Skip to main content

"This is Why I Ride"

'All I Wanna do is have some fun....until the sun comes up on the Santa Monica Boulevard'


April 1, 2013

I rode Bessie2 to school today; Teacher Work Day - no students, which means I didn’t have to be there at oh-dark-thirty OR have the hassle of changing from ‘Biker Chick’ to ‘Teacher Chick’ with my apparel.

Me; along Rt. 66 in New Mexico
Once again, I was reminded of why I ride. I love hitting the road about an hour before sunrise; the air is crisp (even in sultry Florida), a couple of layers of clothing are required, the morning smells fresh, aromatic, and the sunrise from the seat of my Harley Davidson is always a special gift. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen some fantastic sunsets, but I’m a morning person, and I’ll take a front row seat for a sunrise over a sunset any day! 

My first cross country trip on my bike alerted me to the sensory experience of riding; I was pleasantly surprised at how alert the olfactory glands are on the open road. The orange blossoms in Florida, the salty smell along the coastline, the fetid smell through swampland, the parched, dry smell of the Mojave, and the pecan groves in West Texas. Yes, and even the visceral smell of fresh road kill on hot asphalt is alarming. This morning, along a 13 mile stretch of backroad through a nature preserve in Osceola County, I rode through the orange groves, inhaling that flavored oxygen, then I hit a strip of pine trees and it smelled like someone just sprinkled Christmas along that sandy strip of asphalt in Central Florida. The Christmas smell reminded me of my trip along the north shore of Lake Superior in Canada; air so fresh it was antiseptic, the wind so clean and sharp, yet unable to penetrate good leather and an additional layer of Under Armour. I inhale it all, greedily, as if I’ve been starved of air and only recently been allowed to breathe. This is why I ride.

Vintage Biker Chick
I travel North for most of my commute to school; this morning, just as I make the turn East, the sun was scattering it’s first pinkish hues along the horizon, outlining the low lying clouds with a silver lining.  As a photographer, I’m fascinated with light, especially natural light. Photographers call the first hour of sunlight - from twilight to light - ‘magic hour,’ for good reason. To be one with the elements while the day is being introduced is pure magic; to be on a lonely strip of asphalt where its just you and a few unseen critters watching the light show unfold before your eyes is a gift. My first solo road trip was up the East coast - from Florida to New Brunswick Canada - just to ‘get my feet wet’ on the open road. I got to the D.C. area and timed the trip so I would be able to cruise around New York City, early on a Sunday morning. I hit I95 North just before sunup, cruised towards the Big Apple - scared to death of riding around Gotham City itself - and as the skyline of lower Manhattan came into view, the sun had broke through the haze and positioned itself directly over that beautiful skyline. The sight was beguiling; luckily there wasn’t much traffic, because I couldn’t take my eyes off of the ‘bedazzled’ skyline.  And no, I didn’t stop for a picture, but in hindsight, a photo could never have done that scene justice, it is just forever etched in my memory. This morning I remembered: my trip out West with my friend Bill (Ride Free Billy, ILY). We were fascinated with the colors of New Mexico; it was like riding through a rainbow, or riding through a box of 64 count Crayola crayons. The color was mesmerizing; it surrounded you on the asphalt, the heat shimmering up from the road was awash in color, the hot, dry air swirling around you was vibrant with color, and even the rain - sharp, stinging, violent, and quick - was like crystalline drops of every hue. And the sunsets; like sitting in a prism as the light source slices through to the other side, exploding colors onto the horizon. This is why I ride.

It’s not about Bike Week, Sturgis, Rolling Thunder, countless bike nights, and poker runs. Its about the ride; the sensory ride. Its about the journey....and the journey makes the memories. 

“If I don’t ride, I won’t live long.” 
Bessie Stringfield - My Hero
Bessie Stringfield

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Knew Better

July 3, 2013 Typical Pennsylvania Road I always hate saying ‘Goodbye’ to my Dad. He won’t travel since Mom passed several years ago, which means I don’t see him except in the summer when I travel North - or every few years during the Holidays.  I’ve learned many things from my Dad; some of the lessons came hard, some of the lessons were difficult, and unfortunately, most of the lessons were learned much later in life. Had I paid attention the first time, my journey would not have been as rough, and my ability to grasp the many opportunities presented to me would have been easier. As my Dad and I both age, we get a long better, and our relationship had deepened after my Mom passed...for this I am grateful. I left Indiana early this morning - taking 35S  - the fields were shrouded in a chilly mist as the sun cast a pinkish glow to the East. I was filled with anticipation that I was going to see Frank Lloyd Wright’s ‘Falling Water’ home south of Pittsburgh.  Wh...
1 comment
Read more

Summer Road Trip 2014_Final Thoughts

I awoke Friday morning exhausted; as if someone had put on boxing gloves and gently but consistently pummeled me from head to toe. I dreaded the long journey ahead of us. Since arriving in Indiana early Wednesday morning, it had been   a whirlwind of responsibilities. Mine were minimal compared to what my brother and sister had already had to do to arrange the funeral, tie up loose ends, and cover all the bases that need covering when a parent dies. After the service and dinner at the church, I think we all felt a foreboding. Our Grandparents were gone,   our Mom was gone, our Dad was gone…..who does the family gather around from this point forward? We were all at loose ends. The trip back to Florida would be another ‘get on the super slab and ride’ kinda trip….the worst. I-75 South is congested with traffic, and the Weather Gods were not going to be in our favor today.   We gulped a cup of coffee, my brother gave me a hug and we TRIED to sli...
3 comments
Read more

Plan? What Plan?

"Embrace uncertainty. Some of the most beautiful chapters in our lives won't have titles until much later." In the last few months I've been asked from several readers and followers, 'How do you plan your trips?' I also see the question asked numerous times (like over and over and over and over...) on the various biker-related groups on social media.  Penny Tours I confess: I'm not much of a planner! I ride in the spirit of the intrepid Bessie Stringfield, a pioneer of the sport of motorcycling who in 1930 became the first black woman to ride solo across the U.S.. Bessie was notorious for her 'Penny Tours.' She would toss a penny in the air and wherever it landed on her map of the U.S.....that is the direction she would travel. And yes; I've done the Penny Tour many times. Just a few weeks ago in Indiana; I had a 'free' day between events and tossed the penny on the map of Indiana. It landed in the northern part of the state near the ...
2 comments
Read more