July 2017
Reflection
Summer is in full swing here. The humidity is oppressive 24 hours a day. The air is thick and it feels like a blanket choking you at times. None the less, I’d rather ride in miserable weather than not ride at all. So I soak my T-shirt and throw it on. I gear up and fire the engine on the red horse. I powered up the MP3 player and hit the shuffle button. I clunk her down to 1st gear and as I’m releasing the clutch, “Set ‘em up Joe” by Vern Gosdin comes up and I’m off.
Normally on a ride like this, I don’t really know where I’m going and it doesn’t matter much. I just want to feel some wind and have a few hours to myself. I work hard all week. I do what the man tells me to do. I take care of my shit. I pay my dues with my money and my time. When I get home, I do my chores without question. The grass is cut. The cars are cleaned. The house is straightened. I don’t have much to bother me. I usually find my way out into the back country somewhere, where the traffic is thin and my music is good.
But that is not the case today. I know exactly where I am going.
As I head north out of town, the air running through my mesh jacket is nice against my wet T-shirt. The crawfish ponds are calm now as the season is over. Those critters will have 4 or 5 months to eat and grow. Each pond is loaded with Egrets and other shore birds – they certainly don’t mind eating small crawfish. The sugar cane is tall. We’ve had plenty of rain this year. However, the stalks are skinny and it will be a few months before the sweet harvest is underway. But the rice is dry now. Some fields are being cut, and the nutty aroma is delicious running through my helmet. The soybeans plants are green and full – they will be cut soon. I take mental note of all of these things as I roll along the State highways and it pleases me to see it.
Continuing north, in the thriving metropolis of Big Cane, Louisiana, population less than 200, I stopped at a country store shack that couldn’t be more than 600 square feet. I bought a bottle of IBC root beer and a link of Boudin, which is a rice/veggie/pork meat mixture that is encased in sausage packing and cooked in a steam bath.
Out on the front porch, I sat down on one of the two rocking chairs to enjoy my morning snack. An old man is sitting in the other chair. He must be 85 years old. His face is worn like an old leather baseball glove from what surely must be decades in the fields. If he has any teeth, I can’t see them. Wearing overalls, a long sleeved work shirt, and a straw hat, I bid him good morning and we talked a bit about nothing much. His English was broken by a little French and his thick Cajun accent was very familiar to me, although to many outsiders, it might be misconstrued as some kind of foreign language. Still, he spoke freely and seemed pleased that someone cared enough to talk to him. He struck me as a simple man. Probably lived his entire life within 50 miles of where we were, and was content to be there. I’d venture he doesn’t have any deadlines or schedule to be concerned about. Perhaps his biggest decision for today is what to eat for lunch.
I finished my pop and told the old geezer that it was time for me to be moving on. I pull out of the parking lot and AC/DC comes into my ear buds with “It’s a Long Way to the Top, if you Want to Rock-n-Roll”. I firmly believe that anyone that wants to improve their riding skills should have a healthy dose of AC/DC on hand. If nothing else, it will blow the carbon right out of your tail pipes!!!
I turn left onto Hwy 1179 and felt a tingle in my fingers. My palms got just a little sweaty. I turned the music down and started really concentrating. I rolled through the curvy road looking for something very specific. This is where I envisioned going when I left the house this morning and I found it. I pulled my bike over and shut it down. I took my gear off and walked back to the curve. The grass and underbrush is much taller and greener than the last time I was here. The water in that road side bayou is higher too.
This is where it happened. This is where Pops crashed. The tree where he ended up is right over there. The bike was lying in the ditch next to him right here. And the helicopter picked him up right over there in the field. I poked around like a beach comber looking for something, anything, or nothing all at the same time. A flash of red caught my eye and I moved the brush aside to get a better look. Ah – that’s what this is:
This is the reflector from Pop’s saddlebag. In the tornado of destruction, it must have fallen off. I wiped it off like some kind of buried treasure, and sat down at the base of the tree to do some reflecting of my own.
I reflected on my countless blessings. I reflected on my wife, and how much I love her unconditionally. I reflected on my children, who are so incredible, I cannot believe came from my DNA. I reflected on my friends - I’m surrounded by good people who do good things for the right reasons. I reflected on my good fortunes, heavy in things that money can buy, as well as many things that it cannot. I reflected on my conquered challenges, and the sweet taste of victory to that extent. I reflected on my health, and how great it is to be able to do whatever I want to do without physical disability. I reflected on my past adventures and future ones that I haven’t even dreamed up yet.
And then I reflected on the fact that it’s so precious and fragile. One wrong turn, literally or otherwise, and it’s gone. We can never know when or even if that will happen, or what it even means for that matter. There are some things we just can’t control. My best shot is to be smart. Take good advice when I can get it. Live a little every day. Love my life and live it with passion. Dismiss my grudges and lay my burdens down. Take frequent assessment of my priorities and hold the highest of these in reverence. See the world physically. Enjoy time with my wife. Don’t dwell on my shortcomings. Give it my best shot, but if that’s not good enough at first, don’t give up. Laugh from my belly every day. Appreciate the little things. See both the forest and the trees. And tell my closest ones that I love them and I am thankful to have them.
The sun came out from behind the clouds and the temperature started rising. So I placed the reflector in my tank bag and pointed the FJR south. The ride home was familiar, but peaceful. I was content to just think about my reflection.
Stay thirsty, my friends…..
