I’m waiting any day now. my camera is ready, my bags are already packed, and my route is planned. I just don’t have my bike yet. Tomorrow? I hope? Friday? I honestly don’t know.
Maybe you don’t know what I’m talking about. Maybe touring is not your idea of a good ride. Thats cool. To me, it *IS* riding. Of an 15 hour a day, 3 day ride, this is what its like for me:
- first 2 hours, are nothing but stress like any other day. wondering if I forgot anything, if I am gonna hit rain, if I’ve abandoned my family or if something is going wrong at work.
- next 2 hours I realize that I’m actually heading somewhere. My senses come back. My feet are up on the foot pegs, and I swear to god theres a tiny hole in my boots where my problems and my life stresses are dripping out.
- next 2 hours its dusk, and I’m getting excited. It’s still a friday or a thursday night. I’m feeling alive again. I start to notice the evening stars and The smells of the road. Music sounds better. Starting to feel alive again.
- I hit my hotel room or pitch my tent, with a new point of view. Tomorrow, the world is fucking mine. MINE. I’m gonna see what there is too see, and my watch isn’t worth looking at because time has slowed down and doesn’t matter.
- I wake up, with the cold air on my face, and the day at my feet. Every decision now is a good one: Do I eat at the local coffee shop, or quick mart? There are no wrong answers. everything is an experience now. I have all day. Tonight, I’ll be even further from home. Load the bike, and get on with it. Its all good.
- I ride all day. I feel my wits and my senses come back. I know, worse case scenario that If I have to I can not show up to work till tuesday morning, or make 1k miles on a ride home. Maybe I’ll be back monday at noon. It’s not going to screw up today.
- Toward saturday at around 4pm, I make more decisions about my day. I’ll live by them. I hit my camp by dusk, set my camp, drink a nip of scotch, call my wife and tell her my philosophy or description of my day. by this point, I’m a new man and I miss her and my kids. I’m looking foward to seeing her.
- sunday morning, I head home. no matter how far away that is.
Cheap therapy for about 6 tanks of gas, a sleeping bag and a love of the open road. You tell me what else can do this, and I’ll kiss your ass. After 42 years of life, I haven’t found it.
Amen Brother!!!!! Ride safe! And the next trip is to Maricopa, right? 🙂
The two things that help calm me down and clear my head is Sunday Morning Worship, and a motorcycle ride.
Keep the rubber on the road. Tell us how it goes.
nice, very nice. i totally agree, there is NO amount of therapy that compares…especially to the first 15 hrs rolling, and the next 15 hrs, and the next… 🙂
ps, boston was right, you're a good read mr zip66
Ride sounds right. Cold here in Michigan. But soon. Like the Patton picture. My dad served under him. Boston said stop by.