(also posted at my blog at themightyviking.com, along with other articles, etc., including other motorcycle articles. Just search the tags for motorbikes or motorcycles) I don't always get to ride just to ride, without some end destination in mind. Today's ride was about riding until I decided to turn around. I didn't find that destination for about 30 miles. Along the way, I lost a lot. First I lost speed, because of the 25mph corners. Then I lost my knowledge of where the road I was on was going, when I turned onto a road I'd never been on, and didn't really know where it went. Then I lost the oncoming lane - the road turned into one of those one-lane roads where people just figure out how to get past each other in the unlikely event that they meet someone. finally, the paint on the roads disappeared - just a flat piece of asphalt, no markings, no signs, nothing. And right about then I began to realize that losing stuff can be the greatest feeling in the world. And I began to give up things voluntarily. The sound of my exhaust is a low, loud rumble that is somewhat unique - a little different than the usual Harley sound. It's tempting to hold back a little bit, but when you let go of that internal resistance to the sound, it fills you up, holds you up, and your whole being is powered by that vibration. I gave up my interest in going fast, 40mph was as fast as I felt like I needed to go. Last, but not least, I gave up my expectation of getting somewhere. each moment, each corner, every straight stretch, tree, river, hill - each one became just a moment unto itself. Its funny how when you get to where you need to be, you realize you didn't need to go anywhere particular to get there.
