Return to Serenity

You knew that last night would entail a ride of some kind, seeing as how I’d just gotten the green light to put a seat under my ass and a single tire in front of me. The weather looked iffy but I had a job to do; I had to hand off a couple of ride posters that contained info for an upcoming charity ride, in memory of a fallen Marine.

I shot up to Clydes to give one to Johnny to post at the bar, and the other was handed to Danno, to be posted at the VFW. Both locations should see excellent visibility and with any luck, we’ll have a few brave souls make the ride out to Worcester with us.

After doing the handshakes, hellos and handoffs, it was time to return to the homestead and finish packing for the Cali trip (tomorrow!!). But when I stepped outside Clyde’s front door, I saw a whole world of hurt standing between me and my home driveway. The sky had darkened up something fierce, there were bright flashes speeding towards me, and there was a rapidly increasing amount of H2O spreading upon the ground. Who cares! I’m riding again!! Woo-Hoo!! I slid easily into the seat, fired the ol’ girl up and off I went. Hell, I didn’t even take the direct route home, I meandered a bit!

The streaks of lightning were just ripping the clouds apart but I took it as a welcoming of sorts from the storm gods above. They were calling out to me, happy to once again have the opportunity to soak me to the bone. And while my ride wasn’t quite long enough for them to achieve that goal completely, they still did a masterful job with the time I allotted them.

Arriving back at the homestead, I tucked the bike into the garage and freed myself from the wet clothing. Ahhh, such a good feeling to be parking the bike again, instead of the Jeep. All was good in the world again.

And then with this morning’s ride, the return to serenity only deepened. The roadway offered me many gifts this morning; slow gentle curves on which to glide back and forth upon, long straightaways that allowed me to throttle up and pass folks going too slowly, and plenty of potholes for me to exaggeratedly swerve around at the last minute. Folks behind me must have thought I was off my rocker, but indeed; I was fully ON my rocker. The mind was clear and the body; responsive. Casual squeezes of the clutch, combined with determined taps of the boot, yielded the satisfaction of settling further into the seat as the bike pressed me onward.