The Road.

Riding means different things to different people.    There’s no right or wrong in riding.   100 miles to some, means 1000 miles to another.

• Waking up in the morning, to see your bike is still outside your motel room.  She’s ready to do some miles today, like an old friend.
• The smell of a pasture as you ride by it, knowing its different, and that its going to pass quickly.
• the chill of morning, knowing it will  warm up every mile.
• The evening phone calls to your loved ones.   Needing to know they are safe, but knowing you’ll come back to them a better man.
• The breaks out in the middle of nowhere.
• Driving through main streets of towns that have known better, but pride keeps them rolling on.
• The exploration of new roads, sometimes determined at intersections.
• sitting on your bike at midnight, hearing the world rushing by in distant cars, with your bedroll laid out 10 feet away.
• Sitting on your haunches with a map in your hand, while a biker you don’t even know pulls up and asks if you need help, and means it.
• seeing a B.A.C.A. patch of a chapter member you don’t even know, In a town you’ve never been to.   Knowing you’re doing your part.
• Wondering if you’ll make it home by sunday night, 800 miles away and still riding.
• The worries of your life that are all yours, melting away and knowing it.

I can’t wait for what 2010 is gonna bring to me on my bike.