(i say part because this is just some thoughts, no real answers or
anything)
went with the lil lady out to lancaster county PA for a hot-air
balloon ride on sunday
i knew it would be cold coming back after dark so i made sure we had
sweatshirts
i took my saddlebags off about 4 months ago, just before the big heat
of the summer, and my bike feels totally different (and so, so much
better)
i'll be the first to admit i bought the cheapest bags possible (for
lots of reasons) and that i didn't mount them properly (when i put
them back on, i'll know how to do it right [cross-tightening])
whereever i ride now, the ride is easier, there's nothing bouncing
around or threatening to fall off or break
obviously carrying things is harder - if it can fit in a backpack, or
under my shirt, great, but i don't enjoy feeling like i'm shoplifting
things i own and i don't like the ride when i'm not totally relaxed
so i stopped carrying things
never had more fun on the bike, just plain riding
but on sundays i'll take the lady out to brunch, or here and there on
a saturday, and it's always short so i never noticed ...
we left from her place in NJ and the ride out to near-pennslytucky was
just shy of two hours
it was all highway miles and a bit past an hour i stopped and we had a
lick of ice cream and stretched our legs
arrived at the meeting point, left our stuff with some kind-seeming
strangers who were ballooning with us (helmets, jackets), set up the
whole balloon and launched just in time to un-make the sun set; we
went high enough to see it again without the hills in the way
we floated around ... was a good time
the pilot told me how he's been doing it for 25 years, how he loves
it, how there's a zen to it, how he reads the wind, all of that
landed on the edge of a cornfield, knocking down a handful of stalks -
the farmer came, angry, with the police, and we had to stand around in
the knee-high weeds until dark, when we were 'free to leave'
found our stuff in the custody of some other kind folks, suited up and
headed back
it was cold, but i rode all winter and i rode in the middle of the
night in the summer and the spring when i wasn't wearing the right
gear, and i've frozen before and i know what that is - this was cold,
yes, but it wasn't unbearable
we did the highway again to get back ... PA turnpike to NJ
turnpike ... i was lamenting how pointless a ride that was, going back
the way i came *and* doing highway miles
i wanted to take good roads
we have a gps now, it does "avoid highway" trip figuring and it's a
great thing ... so many shortcuts all over the place!
but its battery was low and we were tired, hoping to get back, so the
highway it was
it wasn't simple, though, because there were accidents all up and down
and my attempt to ride easy got frustrated and i got aggressive and i
split lanes more than i would have liked to and i rode the shoulder
for as long as i could before hiding in the crowd
but the worst part was having the lady on the back
i realized that while it's nice to have a person to talk to, she's
just sort of ... weight ... and she moves, she moves like a pendulum,
she doesn't sit still and when in first gear the bike wobbles like i'm
drunk
at speed though, she holds down the back tired well enough that i can
easily break my solo speed limits
but i don't really have a need to do 120
i was anxious to get out of the traffic, anxious going around the big
trucks that swerved into nearby lanes, anxious to get out of the cold,
anxious, frustrated, high-strung
but then i realized all of that, other than the safety bits (which i
could control my portion of), was just a product of thinking i needed
to BE someplace ... sure, i'm heading somewhere, but i'll get there
when i get there, right?
or is that what people call 'loser talk' ?
sitting up, riding, it's a moment that we are ourselves, it's our zen,
it's a moment in which it doesn't matter if we get where we're going
or how long it took us to get there
i thought of my ride like that, not about rushing to get back but
about how even after i get back, if i could get there instantly, i
would not feel any better i would just not have the anxiousness of
hoping to get there ... but no doubt there would be something else to
worry about, to be anxious about
am i getting old? is that what this is?
i dropped her off and headed back to my own place
the roads were empty, it being late on a sunday night, and i made it
back to the city without a hint of trouble
went as fast or slow as i wanted and there was nothing to muddle up
the pretty efficiency of leaning over to take a turn at speed or just
leaning all the way back to stretch while taking a straightaway
and sitting up, riding, even (almost especially) on a highway (because
on pretty country roads, you're part of that scene, and on the boring
highway you're stuck in your own head ... no?) ... it's that same
moment, it's the secret truth that it doesn't really matter where you
are
still feels better without any bags, without any lady
you tell me what that's about
don't think i quite get it, really
-c
> still feels better without any bags, without any lady
> you tell me what that's about
> don't think i quite get it, really
If you're talking about the handling of the motorcycle, packing a
passenger
and/or carrying a heavy load messes up the weight distribution. The
rear tire
has too much traction and the front tire has a hard time stabilizing
and steering the bike. It's a whole lot more work when you're packing.
Some fat broad kept pestering me to take her for a ride. I used all
sorts of excuses, like I had to do my laundry and shit. She offered to
wash my clothes for me, so I figured that I should take her for a ride
and give her a mercy fuck so she'd leave me alone. I packed her fat
ass from L.A. to Frisco and boned her several times and dropped her
off in L.A. after three days. It was great to get her off my bike and
she never bothered me again.
XML Sitemap
> i dropped her off and headed back to my own place