Summer I barely knew thee....

The labour day weekend is now a memory in the past.  Albeit an awesome memory - of belly laughs, beer and campfire smoke, of learning all about "pitchfork bacon" (voted the most perfect man food of all time) and of one last ride before it was back to work you fool (which in my reality is the adult working stiffs version of back to school)

Yes, the bugs of this past weekend still cling to my trusty sporty, the leathers now dry and hopper gut encrusted are folded and wait my attention.  But I can't bring myself to do it - it's like completing the act of cleaning up my riding gear and putting it away is an admission of surrender to fall.

Now don't get me wrong, fall is a nice time of year.  Lovely rusts and golds surrounding crisp mornings and starry nights.  But summer - oh that sweet lass of  the year, was by far the fairest in the land. 

Oh she was a reluctant teary wench, pouring out rain and storms in the beginning but slowly she warmed to the months of July and August - in fact the wench became downright hot and bothered! +33 C degrees, vicious winds and scary thunderstorms punctuated by massive hail - when summer got warmed up, it was a hot flash of menopausal dimensions!  Moody tho she was, there were those pleasant sleepy afternoons, when even the flys didn't bother to  buzz.  Those were the afternoons meant for napping in the lawn chair after a breif and feeble effort at making it through the next 6 pages of my book.  Didn't happen - snoozing won out.

Riding my bike, cruising along on a hot day was devine! Bugs be damned, it was full speed ahead, and listening to the calm drone of my bike was awesome.  A trip down the west (or as we say 'wet'coast) was a balm - a way of aligning my stars and cards and whatever else needed aligning. 

You see a good ride is like therapy.  There is no time to dwell on the flotsam and minutea of day to day life, no need to worry if my hair looks okay, if I'm gonna loose weight, if the bills are all paid or if I changed my voice mail at work.  Not important to me at the time.  All that matters is I'm in the zone. 

And the zone is only focusing on the now - not yesterday, not what is happening tomorrow or in other parts of the world.  When a person gets in the zone on their bike it's all about the  road, the bike and your immediate surroundings.  And assuming you are moving along with traffic, the immediate surroundings change second by second.  So I get in the zone, listen and feel for changes in the way the bike runs, or the road feels;  I watch for the road surface, noting areas to avoid, and adjusting my route appropriately.  I notice the immediate surroundings as I move through them - cars rolling to a stop, on coming traffic if there is any, and if none then the sky, the grass in the ditch, cows watching and cheering for me as I zip along with a goofy grin of zenlike satisfaction on my face. and THAT is when I am at my happiest. 

The Zone - it's when I feel connected to the now - to God, to Earth, to my Bike, and the only other thing that matters is seeing  the back of my hubby as he too zones along on his bike somewhere ahead of me.  Sure there are elements trying to distract me - an occassional kamakaze beetle that dings off my forehead at 75 mph - a good wake up call from the Big Guy Above to pay attention perhaps?  Or a mare and colt who try to race for a few hundred feet and then veer off to enjoy their day without me. And once a hawk who just couldn't seem to pull up fast enough to avoid a near miss with my helmet.  But overall, as in 98% of the time - it's a glorious wonderful brush with life. 

My friends hear of all the bad parts of riding a motorcycle, and my mom worries that it's dangerous.  Well it is.  Let's be honest, between me and the big truck hurtling along beside me - I'm the softest thing out there.  And if it's my fate - well then I hope it's quick.  But this is not something I, or most riders dwell on.  We know what can happen, and if that is too much to fathom, and all we think about - then it's time to hang up the helmet and get back in the Buick.  I have faith in my ability to avoid dangers, to look ahead and be defensive.  That too is part of the Zone.  You don't remove yourself from the traffic or  road or horrible wind - you are there - 100% in the moment, paying attention and it becomes second nature. 

And that's why I do it - I love it! I feel energized, even after three hours battling a wicked headwind.  Because I'm alive!

Let me end with this little tale from the past: 

Many years ago, it was in Nevada the summer they'd had a lot of grass and brush fires.  Riding west, three of us were blissfully unaware that a storm was waiting to bear down on us.  I thought the horizon looked too dark, but hey it could be a desert thunderstorm and they are wicked! (remind me to tell you about being kinda struck by lightening some time)  And I do  recall wondering why someone would have a campfire going, because I could see a white plume of smoke going straight up in the distance, highlighted by the black behind it.  Hmmmm that might not be a campfire I recall thinking, almost looks like...a TWISTER! And those people in the oncoming lane on the freeway, they aren't being overly friendly - even tho all the drivers were waving like lunatics - they were TELLING US  TO TURN BACK!!!  And those thunderclouds - why it was wind, it was A HUGE DUST STORM rolling down on us! No wonder there wasn't any  traffic headed west along with us, we didn't have radios - we hadn't heard the warnings! 

Yup, God looks after fools and children, because we finally realized what we were about to head into, stopped and turned around.  It wasn't a problem because no one was traveling towards west but us! So three riders, tails between our legs hauled a$$ back to the last town, crossed the interstate median, rolled into a gas station and tucked our bikes up on the board walk next to the grocery store on the leeward side just in time.  We all burst into the store before we even spoke - then watched as the black sooty sand washed down the windows like water.  That day several people died on that stretch of highway as they were caught in a complete black out on that interstate in Nevada.  Thankfully we three were not among them.  And if that wasn't enough, when we finally got ourselves collected and the nervous laughter and adrenalin died down, we walked out to find one of the bikes had a totally flat back tire.  How lucky were we not to have that happen on the road in a storm? 

The day was saved, we found a shop, mended the tire, stayed the night and lived to tell a good tale.  Scary? you betcha - exciting - of course. Did I feel alive? Oh yes! And Thankful beyond words.

To this day I am thankful that I get to ride and smell the sage and see the sights on my bike with my beloved hubby riding ahead of me.  Now this blog didn't really touch on our wonderful trip to California, the vineyards, the olive groves, miles of walnut and almond orchards - but we'll save that for another installment.

Enjoy life.  Don't dwell on the crap you can't change.  And always give thanks for what you got!