Under cover of darkness...that's how Bessie and I roll. Oh-dark-thirty I headed north, successfully beating the deluge of rain that would happen later that day in Central Florida, on my way to Macon Georgia. I have always loved watching the rising sun turn the horizon first pink, melting into yellow and gold as a new day dawns. It is a brief gift, before the blazing summer sun heats the landscape. As Bessie and I cruise along a virtually deserted SR 27, I am dreading the short ride up I-75. Motorcycles are made for back roads, not interstates. The early hour assured me I would not encounter much traffic, until I hit 75. At least the traffic on the interstate was not nearly what it would have been a few hours later. I was in no hurry this morning, no one was waiting at the other end of the ride, so I stayed in the 'go slow' lane of the interstate, clicked Bessie into cruise control, propped my feet up on the highway pegs and enjoyed the ride as maniacs rushed around me i
Bessie and Me - Writing and Riding