All was now right with the world and I decide to crank out some miles and get into the rhythm of the bike. A steady rain the previous night provided the day with that cool, moist, air lightly scented with the fragrant aroma of the forest. I rode with my visor opened a touch savoring the feel of it on my face and the pure sweetness of it in every breath I took.
After a while the torture device BMW lovingly refers to as it's stock seat dictated a stop. Guard rails and narrow shoulders meant I needed to turn down an alternate road or come across a pull out.
A few miles down the road I see a paved pull out
As I coast in that pure sweetness i am breathing is replaced by the familiar odor of death and decay that seems to flow through your nostrils and coat the back of your throat and mouth with a thick viscous oily substance.
Peering over the guard rail I find.........
Wiley Coyote has left the building. I'm left wondering did he die on that spot from natural causes or has the State of New York decided that one of the ways to close their massive budget deficit is to simply heave road kill off at convenient rest stops rather than doing whatever they usually do with it. I did'nt even bother to take my helmet and gloves off, so I just held my breath as long as possible and rode on.
Fortune was shining on me however and just a few more clicks up the road I spotted......
And in the 20 minutes or so I lingered along its grassy banks and rocky shores ,in sharp contrast to my last stop I found various shapes and forms of...
Life in All It's Splendor