Skip to main content

Girl Neglected


I could hear my girl Bessie calling to me this morning at ‘oh-dark-thirty’ as I slid into my car , ....it was a mournful sound of a woman neglected!  Between work and the weather, the opportunity to ride has been slim; we fixed that this eve! 

I couldn’t wait to get away from school today for two reasons - 1.) I have the chance to talk to the new man in my life who happens to be an entire continent away at the moment, and 2.) I promised myself if it was NOT storming when I left school, Bessie and I were riding!  The beginning of this school year has been the roughest start I’ve had to school in several years; great kids, great school, new administration, and lots of changes as we shift to Common Core....Ms. D. has been feeling off center and needed to chew up several miles of asphalt to feel ‘centered’ again.

Found Him!
A quick ‘good-bye,’ and a quick change of clothes and Teacher Chick was transformed to Biker Chick...I felt almost guilty as I uncovered poor Bessie who has sat neglected for a few weeks. I gave her a gentle and loving rub down with the McGuire’s and within seconds she had a shine that we were both proud of!  And you know....no matter how long I am forced to let her sit (because it is never a choice to let my bike sit), she turns over with gusto the first time I flip the start button....like her owner, always rarin’ to go!

I only had an hour before I was expected at dinner with my Daisies; headed out through Lake Alfred to Dean Still Road. Always a pleasure to grab some of those curves that  wind through the very edge of the Green Swamp; with each twist and turn, my centered returned and the slightest glimmer of stress that had started to appear, thought better of it. Then I circled back around to 27 where I could jump on I-4 and really give Bessie the chance to clear out her exhaust! Traffic wasn’t too heavy, so I found a clear spout and squeezed the throttle......70, 80.....yeah baby......one more click and I will have felt like I at least ‘looked for the edge’ this eve.....90mph and there it was ...my center again. All is right with my Universe. And for the briefest of moments, I held the throttle tight, flirting with danger, afraid to ease up, afraid to go faster, suspended at that precise moment with the wind, the noise of the engine, and the vibration underneath me where I am one with my Bessie.  Ahhhhhh.....it is so true: “You never see a motorcycle parked outside of a Psychiatrists’ office.”

I promise I will not let you sit for another two weeks....I know how important it is for a girl to be rode hard every now and then!



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

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

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 slip out quietly…

Summer Road Trip 2014_Day Eight: Life is Short

The shrill sound of my cell phone at 4am Mountain Time jolted me from a deep, tired sleep. It was my brother delivering the startling news that our Dad was dead. We had just arrived in Colorado Springs, my daughter had just arrived in Denver where my Niece lives. One deliberate (or random) act can change the course of life itself. He called 911, laid down in the bed he had shared with my Mother for nearly 50 years, placed the .22 pistol under his chin, and chose to end his life, leaving those of us who love him to wonder 'why?' It is impossible to place logic on such a selfish, illogical act.  I was speechless when my Brother delivered the news, he too was in such shock that the details came over the wireless connection as matter-of-fact. My Dad was a man who seemingly had it all; a loving family, three successful children, six awesome grandchildren, a comfortable retirement, a nice home, a dedicated church family, and good health. He left a note, he left detailed instructi