It Happens Every Week

It happens every week.

On Sunday, I wake up early to read the paper and drink some coffee. Later that morning, I’ll cook Sunday lunch for my family. It’s the only meal we really share together during the week. While I cook, I’ll day dream about yesterday. What a day that was. Yesterday was a play day. I got to ride my bike. We had an adventure together. We left the house excited and returned home relieved of any stress. Yesterday was a blast.

On Monday, I’m back at the office trying to be a good worker, concentrating on the real world. During lunch, I browse the web for what interest me, and inevitably, something about riding comes up. I try to learn something, but what I really want to do is day dream about my bucket list. To ride somewhere special for a month or longer.

On Tuesday, I’m waist deep in my busy life. Deadlines are being met, meetings are attended, directions given and taken. Documentation, compliance, regulation – the career cogs are in full swing. Still, if only for a short break, I think about my passion. I wonder if the full timers I know are enjoying their commuting ride.

By Wednesday, I’m in my grove. Things at the office are flowing – paper in, paper out. Strategies are played out. Challenges come and go – these are directed and handled according to priority and plan. Again at lunch, I surf my passion. But by now, I’m looking ahead at the weekend weather. Looks promising – should be a nice day to ride. If no PM, email, or phone call has arrived from a fellow rider, I check my list of riding buddies and place the bugs in their ears. “Weather Saturday is looking sharp – how about a ride?” I wait patiently for a response.

Thursday brings the start of excitement over the upcoming weekend. 2 more days until the fun begins. Perhaps I’ve heard from a riding buddy. Maybe I’ll be adventuring alone. Either way, I’m good. Now during my break, I’m zooming around Mapquest, studying roads – thinking about what might interest me. I’m considering traffic. If I want to leave early, heading East this time of year is burdensome with that low angle Sun in my eyes. Hmmm – I wonder if that museum in XXXXville has opened yet? Or maybe the leaves are starting to turn at that State park up North? Too many choices, too little time.

IT’S FRIDAY!!!! I only work a ½ day. This afternoon, I’m going to take care of my Honey-dos. The world can have me today. But tomorrow is mine. Just me and the road. I close my eyes for just a second. In my brain, I can smell the pine trees. I can breath clearly – my sinuses are crystal clear. I can hear the whine of my iron horse. I can see the curves in the road. I can feel the 3-dimensional forces on my body as I ride. I can't wait until tomorrow.

Saturday is ride day. I like to leave the house as soon as there’s enough light to be seen. Maybe I’ll ride over and meet a buddy somewhere before we head to parts unknown. Maybe I’ll be venturing out on my own. Maybe I know exactly where I’m going. Maybe I have no clue. Perhaps I’ll turn a corner and stumble upon that perfect little country store. The one that stepped back in time 40 years. The one with that special food or snack that you just can’t get anywhere else. Maybe I’ll find that windy twisty road on the map that looked so inviting. Maybe I’ll find a 400 year old Live Oak Tree, with its massive branches that have taught me a life lesson about bending without breaking. Maybe I’ll visit that body of water – watch the birds enjoy their day. Maybe I’ll stop somewhere and meet someone new. We will chew the fat a while about nothing special. Maybe I’ll find that unique farm field, where the Sun and shadows provide that perfect light. Maybe I’ll ride that familiar road – the one in which I have memorized every curve. I can ride that road in total confidence, safely pushing my machine back and forth and marveling at her power and design. Maybe I’ll go 400 miles, or maybe just 40. Maybe I’ll do all of these, or none of these. But this much I know – wherever I go, I will find adventure, and I will have a blast. And when I return, the world will seem right again. I’ll have a feeling of peace. I’ll be ready for whatever comes next.

It happens every week.

Pants, you write well and you seem wise. I almost completely agree with you. Almost. You can't spend every Saturday riding, it is not fair. You live in Lafayette, Louisiana don't you? You have to fish sometime, you can't always ride. Of course, if you got one of those soft ice chests you could ride to the coast, fish and ride back with your fillets. Then you would have something to cook for that Sunday dinner. One day, maybe we can do this ride/fish thing together.

I'm stuck at work at the moment, just taking a break. Really enjoyed the journey with you on the forum today. Ya left out one little thing: the thrill of twisting that throttle just a little while trying to stay within the bounds of the rules we must all live by. How sweet it is! That FJR engine is a symphony whose music never gets old... especially when played through the speakers of my Staintunes (thanks again Skooter G for sellin' them to me).

Gary

darksider #44

Excellent read. TFS!...and yes I can almost completely indentify 100% to your week for it mirrors my own in many respects. Except I spend 90% of my time day dreaming about my riding adventures but somehow, someway I get my work done as well.

AMEN hppants! Great read. Last 4 sentences define my feelings for riding perfectly.

I like this very much. Thanks!

Great read, hppants! I'm one of those 'full-timers' who commute nearly every day on my bike (I don't mess with ice or big storms - the old car gets pulled out of the garage on those days.) I used to ride nearly every Saturday with my daughter. She went off to college two years ago. Since then I've somehow gotten out of the habit. Lately 95% of my riding is simply to / from work. NOT the same as going for a weekend ride. Your story is just what I needed to snap me out of complacency and start getting my butt up early on Saturday mornings and riding hard for a couple hours while the wife and son are blissfully sleeping. Thanks!

Thank you for reading my post, and for your replies.

I posted this on another motorcycle forum and Sparky's comment surfaced there too. For fulltimers, the passion is there, but the excitement seems to wane a little. A full timer there commented "I think of the bike more as a utility or a tool, then a toy that is played with, and taken care of so as not to ruin it."

But the bike definitely provides a means to the adventure. Without it, sometimes the journey is, well... boring.

I wrote this not too long after my crash in August 2011. Some of you may recall that I made a stupid bone head mistake and the big girl made me pay for it. I was hanging my lip, afraid that I would have to give up my passion. A good friend suggested that I jot down some thoughts, noting that sometimes things are clearer in black and white. I showed her this writing and I watched her read it. As a non-rider, I wasn't sure if she would get it. But she did - I remember her saying (paraphrasing) "You can't give this up. Some people live their whole lives without passion for anything. Learn from your mistake and enjoy your life."

My beautiful bride of 25 years is indeed a great friend.

Pants, again you write well and you are indeed wise. My dad and I have both crashed, both times our fault. I crashed his '84 Gold Wing in '95 totalling a very beautiful and useful bike. I can still see the mud and water beaded up on the freshly waxed wineberry red paint. He crashed his '07 FJR and was within $200 of totaling it. He broke a couple ribs and destroyed all his riding gear. I can remember how disgusted he was when I helped him out of his Tourmaster jacket I had given him for his birthday. Yet, the passion drives you. The weight of the responsibilities at home, the fear of your son growing up without you may take the edge off your courage and slow you down just enough in that curve, but you are still riding. My father will be 67 here in a couple of months and the FJR was his retirement present to himself. He was able to ride it to work for his last eight months there and it was the happiness of that wonderful motorcycle ride back and forth that allowed him to stick it out as long as he did. Well that and the fact that he is not a quitter.

Again, my compliments and thanks for the write up. Do think about traveling a few miles east and fishing for a day though.

Great read hppants...funny how I only got that feeling after getting the RIGHT bike for me (no, not the FJR, lovely as she is...it's my BMW R1200GS Adventure). First bike I've ever owned that I can't stop thinking about...can't wait to ride to places unknown. "Adventure"....it's not the speed, it's not even the twists or turns. It's that sunrise over a trestle bridge spanning a lonely stretch of the Rio Grand, the crisp mountain air on the top of a 14,000 foot peak in Colorado first thing in the morning, waking up in a hammock next to a river listening to all those sounds that so many people only hear on thier "sounds of nature" soundtracks, and of course all of the little things you mentioned in your post. Thanks!