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Showing posts from June, 2020

The Waning Light

  There are times I dread the waning light of day, That golden hour which precedes the night. The night brings sad memories. The night brings old terrors. The night brings lonely hours, Sleepless hours, Blackness filled with sorrow. The darkness carries the quiet, the quiet commands the truth. The night accentuates my aloneness; it echoes my fears. The darkness makes me yearn for my children and for my loved ones long gone. The night plays a melancholy tune in my head. The night makes me yearn for the light of day when everything is new once again.                                                                                                     ~ Author: Debi Tolbert Duggar   As a child I was terrified of the darkness;  the unknown night terrors outside my window or waking up in the middle of the night in a darkened room. I suppose there are any number of psychological explanations for that, most of which I have examined. As I've aged, I still fear the darkness. Intellectually I

#Scattered_Day 13

New Orleans, LA to Tallahassee, Fl = 385 miles Tallahassee to Home = 277 "There seemed to be no cure for loneliness save only being alone." ~ John Steinbeck: Travels with Charley Long distance riding is fertile ground for daydreaming and thinking. In all my years I have not found any other activity that produces more thought than riding my motorcycle for 500 miles or so. I embrace the aloneness of solo travel; even when I'm with my Wingman, I am 'alone' on the motorcycle. I've been asked 'do you wear a headset so you can talk to each other?' NO. We will talk when we stop. I know people who listen to music while riding, not me. First of all, the music sounds horrible with 70 mph wind rushing around you. I'm too much of a music fan to ruin the melody or backbeat. Secondly, music tends to produce a little too much melancholy for me while I'm riding solo; too many memories of people, places, and experiences that I prefer to savor with just the mus

#Scattered_Day 12

Coppell, Texas to New Orleans, LA = 525 miles The morning I said farewell to my cousin and her husband and left Coppell I felt scattered. Morning traffic was blissfully light as I traversed the snarl of Dallas traffic. I trained my focus on navigating the plurality of road signs, confusing feeder roads, exits and overpasses that define Dallas freeways to connect with I-10 without risking life or limb. Stopped again at Bucee Beaver's in Terrell, reluctant to leave Texas.  I made another stop in Longview for coffee and a truffle (breakfast of champions). A melancholy crept over me; something was tugging at me and not letting go. Spending time with my Texas kin made me realize how scattered my family has become. Growing up in my grandparents household, I lived on the same street as several cousins and various family members. We ran in and out of each others houses with abandon. Food and discipline was parceled out in equal measures by caring adults. The lone requirement was 'to be

#Scattered_Day 11

"Bree was an only child of two only children. She never married and never had children of her own. Della, Tish, and Ann were her family. Bree never seemed to mind the 'only-ness' of her life. Over the years she accumulated many acquaintances, mostly through her work and travels. From the outside looking in you would say Bree had a very full life. Della often wondered what a life without family would be like. I mean, who would keep the secrets? And if your family was as bare as Bree's...would there even be secrets to keep? Without a drunk uncle, no one would have to step around the elephant in the room. Without cousins, no one would know that cousin Eloise was pregnant with another man's child when she quickly agreed to marry John. Without a sister, no one would have to hide the fact that your brother-in-law's family was polluted with alcoholics which is why they were never invited for Thanksgiving dinner.  The closets in Della's family were full of skeleton

#Scattered _ Day 10

"Della, Tish and Ann were a little quiet today while I enjoyed the awesomeness of the Texas Hill Country." Fredricksburg, Texas and the Three Twisted Sisters = 250+/- miles Mountain Home, Texas to Coppell, Texas = 320 miles Tuesday morning was clear and cool. I cruised out of Fredricksburg on Highway 16 towards Kerrville. So many roads in the Hill Country, so little time! The Good 'Ole Texas Loop takes the traveler from Kerrville to Fredricksburg to Leakey and back to Kerrville for 150 miles of easy curves and beautiful scenery. My Wingman and I did that loop six years ago. The Gruene-Fredricksburg - Bandera Loop is 230 miles down towards San Antonio on the Bandera leg. If you travel to the Hill Country to ride, make sure you plan to stay at least three days! My goal today was to tackle the Three Twisted Sisters; the Texas Hill Country's most famous trio. Farm roads 335, 336, and 337 west of Fredricksburg. I rode Route 16 south from Fredricksburg to Kerrville then int

#Scattered_Day 9

"Della was counting on this cross country trip to help pull her life into a little tighter perspective. She needed inspiration for a new book project. Her love life was in tatters, and frankly she was not enjoying this phase of her life. She half listened to Tish ramble on about alternative routes. She watched Ann as she nodded, not saying anything about Tish's suggestions. Della wondered how she was going to keep it together, while accommodating the idiosyncrasies of her two friends. " (I'm just shoveling sand...) Van Horn Texas to Ft. Stockton Texas then several hundred miles on backroads in the beautiful Texas Hill Country = 566 miles Van Horn Texas is literally a wide spot in the road off I-10 about 120 miles  east of El Paso. It was too early to stop (I'm a stickler for 500 mile days) when I came through El Paso. The next hotel was in Van Horn; I can almost clock the pain in my hip by the odometer...420 miles and my right hip starts with a dull ache. Time to

#Scattered_Day 8

"Tish (looking sympathetically at Ann across the table): Della, maybe we could just drive to Sedona. I mean its not like Bree will know. Della (laying her hand firmly on Tish's forearm and looking her sternly in the eye): Tish, we promised Bree the  three of us would honor her wishes. Bree made it very clear; we are to ride the bikes to Sedona, taking the time to see the points of interest she always wanted to see along Route 66. And that's what we are going to do. Della (looking directly at Ann): And you will just have to get over the whole I-cant-do-hills thing. Tish: Oh Della, please don't be so harsh on Ann, she has legitimate fears! Sometimes Della just wants to take Tish and shake her. Tish has spent the majority of her adult life taking care of everyone else's emotions (and generally their physical well-being as well). Tish's son died by suicide less than a year ago and Tish is just this side of acceptance in the grief process." Friday/Saturday: Aro

#Scattered_Day 7

I came to Sedona to understand the attraction; I left this morning still unclear of the attraction. Sedona is known for the majestic red rock scenery and its tangible regenerative effects. And the vortexes...many people seek out Sedona for the uplifting power of the vortex meditation sites. And then there are the aliens; I actually met two people who traveled from Seattle to 'commune with aliens.' I believe in the restorative healing powers of Mother Nature in general. I'm not sure there is anything 'magical' about Sedona. I traveled to Alberta Canada where I visited Red Rock Coulee in Southeastern Alberta. It is literally in the middle of nowhere; 54 kilometers from Medicine Hat...which is also in the middle of nowhere. Red Rock Coulee is where the horizon meets the sky the area is part of what is known as the Canadian Badlands. It is a geological wonder.  The vista is so vast you can literally see the curvature of the earth. Giant round boulders dot the barren lan

#Scattered_Day 6

"Della stood on the red rock ridge that overlooked the lush desert landscape, once underwater millions of years ago. The arid wind swirled the reddish dust around her feet and the heat created a haze that hung like a tapestry out along the horizon. She closed her eyes to give into the experience of the vortex. She felt the energy move up through her feet and take hold of her core; not a jolt, but a firm hand lending guidance." I sat on my cozy little patio as the hummingbirds flitted to and from from the feeder that hangs four feet away from me. If I sit very still the tiny birds have no fear of zooming in, hovering near the feeder, their wings beating noisily, before landing on the feeder for a drink of the sugary liquid. I waited until 7am to shatter the silence of this quiet little neighborhood tucked in the hills overlooking Sedona. I was anxious to traverse the area on Bessie before the heat settled over the landscape. The Chapel of the Holy Cross sits high above Sedona;

#Scattered_Day 5

" Della knew that Ann's life with Lars and with the world at large, was not always honest. God, how can someone stuff their real self, their true sexuality for so many years? Why wouldn't a person so stifled develop compulsions and fears?  At the age of 54,  Lars, Ann's husband of 30 years drops dead of a heart attack ;  slumped across the keyboard of his CAD system, his lunch untouched on the desk. Ann was saddened of course, but she hardly grieved. Della remembers the memorial service; Ann was not outright jubilant but she was somehow more relaxed, comfortable in her own skin. At last she was able to free herself from the shackles of the fictitious existence that defined her life with Lars. Della remembers to night at dinner, shortly after Lars memorial service,  Ann revealed to her and Tish that she loves women. Ann described her experience (not in graphic detail, but enough) with her college roommate so many years ago, and looked Della in the eye, and admitted she

#Scattered_Day 4

600 miles from Weatherford OK to wherever it is I am in New Mexico near the Arizona border. Leaving Weatherford, Oklahoma this morning, I anticipated heat, not wind and certainly not cold wind! I stopped about 50 miles down the interstate and hopped over to the tattered remnants of Route 66. I pulled my leather jacket out and snuggled down into it, flipping the color up to protect my neck. I snapped a picture of Bessie on the Mother Road as the sun is coming up in the east. The history of our country as a mobile society lies buried deep in the old concrete road and the many tiny towns it runs through. The old road runs along I40 and the juxtaposition of the four lane super slab with this narrow barely two lane road is amazing.  Stopped for breakfast and the Denny's off I40 would be a great place to open a restaurant. I understand seating is limited and staff is probably either limited or overworked...and frankly, when I'm not traveling I'm not a fan of eating out so much. I

#Scattered_Day 3

Shreveport, LA to Waterford, OK  = 458 miles "Della walked into Bella Via restaurant, stopped briefly at the hostess table and scanned the room for Tish and Ann. Ann waved enthusiastically from a table tucked in the far corner. Della strolled over, stopping briefly to speak to an acquaintance seated near the entrance. Air kisses all around for her two dearest friends Tish, and Ann. This lunch was to review the details for their trip along Route 66 to carry Bree's ashes to Sedona. Della (as she sipped the Chardonnay she ordered with her fresh tuna nicoise) : So...are both of you packed? Remember, less is more on the bikes. Tish (who ordered the American Cheeseburger, side of fries) : Do you think I should bring a bathing suit? I really hate myself in a bathing suit but a swim would be nice after a long day of riding. Della: You look fine in a bathing suit; and yes, bring it. Ann (who remained relatively silent while picking at the rosemary garlic bread): Will there be mountains

#Scattered_Day 2

552 miles from Bremen, Georgia to Shreveport, Louisiana I had a difficult time conjuring Della, Tish, or Ann on todays ride. First of all, I despise the kind of Super Slab Ground Pounding style of riding I've been doing for the last two days. It's all because I made reservations in Sedona! Something I never do just for this reason. So as of tomorrow morning, that's gonna stop. I'll get to Sedona when I get to Sedona. And if my hosts' psyche skills are legit, she will already know that, right!?  Frankly, I wanted to quit today. I'll admit it. And if you read my book 'Riding Soul-O,' you know I'm okay with 'honoring my limitations.' After calling the 4 key people in my life (my go-to people) and having this discussion their collective advice was basically 'you are tired, you need to get something to eat, a good nights sleep and make your decision in the morning.'  I'm not a quitter. But I will 'Adapt, Improvise, and Overcome.&

#Scattered_Day 1

"The ornate, hand carved wooden box that held Bree's remains perched on Della's kitchen counter awaiting her attention. Della's bike was packed for the trip and the last item to go on the bike was Bree's box. Della purchased a hard-shell, watertight case, the kind you might carry expensive camera equipment in, that she fastened to the luggage rack of her 2018 Road Glide. The case was lined with thick foam rubber and the wooden box with Bree's remains fit snuggly inside. Della agonized for a few weeks over the transport of Bree's remains. I mean, you don't just toss your dear friends ashes in a Ziploc bag and stuff it in your tour pack. Bree bought the box on one of her treks to India to find enlightenment. Of course when she bought it, she had no idea she would end up in it as 5 pounds of calcinated bone. The box sat on Bree's tea table in the sun room, along with a cacophony of other collectibles she amassed from her travels. The day she was diagno

#Scattered

"Della poured the cold remnants of her morning coffee into the sink. She ran the water and slowly, deliberately rinsed her cup, setting it gently into the dish drainer. Her thoughts a million miles away from the automated task at hand. Although Della anticipated throwing her leg over the saddle and chasing the horizon on her solo road trips, she clung to the familiarity of her kitchen, the morning sounds outside the window a symphony to her ears. Most days, Della relished the quiet order of her life. Recently though she felt her world had scattered in too many pieces; Bree was gone, a bright light extinguished too soon and now Della, Trish and Ann were tasked with carrying her ashes to Sedona.  Della hoped the road trip would enable her to collect the scattered pieces of her life, out there on the lone strip of asphalt. She always found inner peace and redemption in the wind." Like Della, I have felt too long scattered; a piece of my existence over there, another piece lays b