Like A Favorite Lover......Only Better

May 16, 2013

Brandon Farms Strawberry Shortcake

I glance at the clock every fifteen minutes or so, anxious for 4th period to end. I hurriedly complete the mundane, end-of-the-day-teacher tasks, grab my bag and practically race to the parking lot.

Since taking delivery of Bessie2 in March, I have designated Thursday as my ‘start-the-weekend-early’ ride night. I rush home, anticipating the evening like I would anticipate the time spent with a favorite lover.....only better. I practically take the turn into my neighborhood on two wheels, scream down the driveway, and as I stumble in the backdoor, I’m peeling my teacher clothes off as I make my way through the kitchen, dining room, and into the bedroom....a swath of garments laid to waste behind me. It takes me about two minutes to transform from ‘Teacher Chick,’ to ‘Biker Chick.’ 

I stop to slather on sunblock, grab my boots, my keys, and head back out the same way I came in, ignoring the discarded clothes with a resolve to pick them up when I return from my ride. I give Bessie2 a quick polish - no self respecting Biker Chick is going to cruise with water spots dotting the chrome.

If the current Florida weather were a women- it would be drop dead gorgeous. The humidity has not discovered us yet, and apparently the Love Bugs’ mating season has come to an end......there were only three bugs who splatted on my windshield all evening. 

The destination on Thursday is determined by what I might want for dinner; tonight I decide I want to ride through Eastern Hillsborough county to Danny’s All American Diner - featured on Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives. 

Not Bessie2

If the Midwest is America’s bread basket, then this part of the Southeast - especially Central/South Florida - is America’s fruit basket. The backroads here are laid out symmetrically; creating tight squares of rich, sandy soil where a variety of fruit is grown year round. The strawberry plants lay brown and exhausted atop their plastic coated beds, having produced sweet, succulent berries all winter.  The fragrant smell of cantaloupe assaults my senses around the next turn; the golden globes of fruit laying patiently as a group of migrant workers pick their way across the field, collecting the harvest.  I pass a slow moving pick up truck loaded down with mangos. On either side of me are fields of ‘U-Pick’ blueberries....and of course the citrus. There is always something blooming, growing, and being harvested. 

The backroads near Plant City and Brandon enjoy a canopy of ancient oak trees with intermittent magnolia trees, festooned with Spanish moss; I ride along, sheltered from the hot sun, the air fragrant with fruit and the heavy sent of the magnolia blossoms .....good Karma abounds, and I remind myself what a lucky girl I am to have this love affair with my motorcycle. There have only been two men in my life who could make my heart beat as fast as my Harley Davidson.....and the advertising is absolutely correct...........it IS the most exciting thing I’ve ever put between my legs. My apologies to the men in my life.

“The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right. If it disturbs you it's wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed.” 

― Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values