Ya know? Life is pretty good.
It’s been a mild winter here by even a desert boys’ standards. Some days, I feel pretty bulletproof. Other days, I see the chinks in my armor and even that is good. Brings me back to center.
I love what I do for a living. Man, I don’t know why, but I do.
No, thats not true. I know exactly why I do. Thats another post, for another day.
But i’m starting to sense spring. Something to explore out there. A nap under a tree in a park by a saddled up bike, in a town I don’t know. I can hear the engine ping as it cools down. I’m in a whole new neck of the woods, and man, I’m ready to explore it and document it on this blog. I just need a friday night to get lost, a saturday to get even more lost, and a sunday to figure out the fastest way home.
But its different up here. The desert proves, and preserves old things. Snow, rain and altitude rots structure. Time will always take its toll, and there’s more time up here between me and this old history. The ghosts will be different; but maybe a break in the repetition is good for the soul. I know route 66 like the back of my hand through 3 states. man, I rode it a lot. There are nights I see the old road in my dreams. Up here, There’s new trails to plow, and places to know with some intent. The history up here is a little different. The desert will educate a less experienced traveler; back in the day and even these days. Air conditioners in the 50s and cars with water bags in the 40’s changed what the landscape we’d see to the average man. it’s not so much the okies up here, its the pioneers. Maybe its a deeper history. Hell, I don’t know but circumstances and pins in maps will let me explore it. Maybe I’ve avoided it.
Either way, I’m ready to re live it.
it’s not like it matters. A new road is a new road. Queue the eagles and rubberneck the roadside as it passes through old towns. Sooner or later history is gonna make make you turn around if you’re in tune, because you can’t miss what you thought you saw a mile back. Who knows if you go this way again? To me, thats why I ride. It’s the old sign, from the guy who put his shingle out to get a little of the money that was passing by his piece of land. His startup money was neon, his successors; did they try to recapture it? Either way, that old, funky neon sign means you have to ride back. Get a picture. Feel those ghosts…of another day. To me, it was a better day. Ingenuity was rewarded. Life was simpler. Honesty was part of hard work. Thats why I ride. it’s disintegrating fast. It’s gotta be drank in, so you can have a piece of it and pass it to your kids, because if you do it right it will become a part of you. A really good part of you. Reporting it on my blog, It just feels like my part of the whole deal.
Yah, life is really good.
It’s just a perspective that I can’t get enough of. It fills my whole soul. It might be gone forever, and I gotta see it.
I just need a bike to take me there. Sure as shit, I’ll find it. Man, I need a bike. One thats in my garage so I can know.
I will figure this out.