This has been a tough spring season. Hardly any LSD riding to
date. I don’t count riding to school, which takes anywhere from 15 minutes to an
hour plus depending on my starting point. I’m talking about doing 500 or 600
miles on a warm Saturday and perhaps another 500 plus on Sunday. Long weekend
rides have taken a back seat to priorities.
A friend of more than 30 years died a few weeks ago. For the past
year I’ve visited her several times a week. It has not been easy on multiple
levels. But it’s the least one can do for a friend. It’s also been a challenging
teaching quarter because my two classes were filled over the brim. It
made returning submitted work in a timely fashion pretty dang taxing. But at
11:59 June 14th the quarter officially ended. I shall miss my students but not
the struggle to keep my head above water.
(Annual b-day ride with Dave)
Add iffy weather as another reason I’ve not done any LSD rides.
Ordinarily the weather does not phase me much. The chancy weather helped me
rationalize being grounded more often than not. But when such weather finally
turns consistently sweet, it makes longing for two wheels that much more
pressing on the spirit. Priorities. I don’t regret spending time with my friend.
It made me realize again how I now have fewer years ahead of me than I have
behind me. And, she was about 12 years younger than I am! Sometimes, I just sat
there while she slept. I gave a tribute at her funeral. Those moments spent with
her over the past year prepared me for saying goodbye. We make time for that
which is important to us.
While there is some truth to the idea that how old we are has less
to do with the number than how we feel, let’s be real. I will not be swinging
my leg over a sport turning bike at 83. At that age, I might have to consider a
low
seat cruiser.
Now, that school is effectively over, my head is filled with ideas
for glorious solo adventures with Jesse Owens II (my motorcycle). I yearn for
being in a position to take to the road come every mid-June and not returning
home until mid-September. It is a dream and a goal that must wait until next
year. This summer is taken over—or so it feels—with some necessary writing
projects that must be completed before September draws to a close. I’ve come up
with hundreds of reasons to avoid the task but avoidance only prolongs the
inevitable; besides, I’ve run out of excuses. I have friends who have
volunteered to provide quiet space with zero distractions. How can I refuse?
Thus, my rides will occur mainly on weekends. One can cover a lot of ground on
weekends so, I’ll not complain. I am reminded of my early morning rides, years
ago, to Indy for lunch at Shapiro’s Deli and then turning around to return home
before dark. Or my visits to St. Louis and always getting home too late for
comfort. I can remember a few weekends that totaled 2,000 to nearly 3,000 miles
of two day riding. So, I should be able to puts some miles end even if I lack a
big destination. I have factored in an Iron Butt ride before the season
closes—and it will be official. I’ve done two iron butt rides, both were meant
to be official. However, I never turned in the paper work. I wonder if there’s a
statute of limitation on that. Hmmm….(Note to self: check IBA rules). While
there won’t be any cross country trips, I enjoy the many mini trips. Alas, my
winter dreams of a summer solo ride to Nova Scotia must remain a dream for the
future.
In addition to modest riding goals this summer, I am re-committing
myself to actually publishing the blogs that I pen. I have a backlog that can
only be explained as negligence. I was going to say “being busy” could explain
it but really, that’s not completely honest. Yes, I’ve been crazy busy. But so
what. Lots of folks are busy. I do a bunch of stuff I detest doing but I have to
do it. Why am I not doing what I want to do and enjoy doing? Riding and blogging
about it is fun, freeing, and the biggest, most natural stress buster that I’ve
ever experienced?
(Farewell, F800ST)
The itch to get on the road, beyond normal riding, is severe. I’m
loving the GT more and more. I have let go of the ST. I heard it has a great home. The GT is all that the ST was missing for me. When I stroll by the GT, I can hear its
engine seductively rumble, calling me…and my leg involuntarily twitches a little, hoping for a good swing over the saddle.
