Back in the Saddle: A Day’s Ride to Jim Thorpe, Pa.

I’ve been to Sleep. Figuratively and literally it would seem. Did you miss me?

It has been a strange spring. I’ve done almost no riding at all due to peculiar circumstances that seem to be circling around like a storm. Good old dealer-service incompetence rendered me stuck on the side of the road instead of on my way to ride the passes of West Virginia. My trip to the Gap earlier this spring looked like this:

This was shortly before my dead bike was dropped and I had my mouth and face redecorated by the heel of a boot. I ended up with that bee-stung lip look a la Angelina Jolie minus the sex appeal, the hot body and well… the Angelina Jolie everything. My mouth was more along the lines of looking like I’d kissed a curling iron. I was just glad to walk away with all of my teeth still connected to my head. Now I wish I let someone take a picture of my blood covered face for posterity. ::sigh:: Good Times.

My bike was left in Pa. at Hermy’s BMW/Triumph where the most gracious dealer ever worked so very hard to undo all the things that went wrong. All in all, I didn’t see my bike for a couple weeks.

Fast forward to weekends where I just couldn’t get time or it rained and then.. WHAMMO! Back injury that kept me at home and hobbled. So, all these weeks later, I’ve just got myself back together. But, as things always do, its getting better. I took my first ride today.

I needed a mental health day, so I took a day off from work and headed out for the day. In hindsight, I think that at a little over 400 miles roundtrip, my destination proved to be a bit further than I should’ve gone first time back in the saddle. But, as my darling boy says, I’ll ride people ’til they are almost starved or about to keel over. I just get going and can’t stop moving forward. Today was no different but I punished only myself. By the time I was about 20 miles from home, I was fit to be tied. I just wanted off that bike. When your back is bothering you, it affects everything. There is no escape from the discomfort. I don’t know what I was thinking. The truth is, I probably wasn’t when I rolled out of the house at 5:30am. I’m glad I went out anyway.

I trundled over to the town of Jim Thorpe, Pa. Walked around a little, took in some of the sights and still managed to make it back home in time to get my little one off the bus in the afternoon.

So… glad to be back.
And I just want to tell the gypsy who has clearly put a hex on me, ‘I’m sorry for whatever it is I’ve done. Please leave me alone now.’

Fuzzygalore

Rachael is the whimsical writer behind the 20+ year old Girlie Motorcycle Blog. As a freelance blogger, she is on a mission to inspire laughter, self-examination, curiosity, and human connection. Girlie Motorcycle Blog can be found on several Best Motorcycle Blog lists.

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8 Responses

  1. novos says:

    What quaint little towns, the kind the West Coast doesn’t have )

  2. steve says:

    Glad your back! I was thinking of you on my spin up to L aconia. The summer is just beginning. By the way have you tried the cramp buster throttle thingy? Later

  3. OG says:

    HEY !!!!

    YOU RODE TO JIM THORPE AND DIDN”T CALL ME TO RIDE ALONG?

    And I thought we were friends… 🙁

  4. FUZZ! says:

    Please. You’re gonna tell ME about cramps?!?! I’m an old pro in the cramp department. :o)

    I do not have any sort of throttle lock thingy. I’m still working thru my gluttony for punishment and pain. That may be something to look into. My hands were killing me when i rolled into the house after a 600+ mile day on friday.

    ..and thanks for still reading 🙂

  5. FUZZ! says:

    To be honest… I didn’t know if I was able to even make it out there or I would have. I was takign baby steps to get back out there. BUT! The Mop has just outfitted me with a lovely pink cellphone so that I’m no longer out of reach while I’m out and about. So when the batphone rings… pick it up! Its time to ride.

  6. OG says:

    My Cramp Buster is the dogs bollocks

  7. Crud says:

    I’m pretty sure I don’t want the dog’s balls anywhere NEAR my grips. What’s worse than dog-sweaty motorcycle grips? 😀

  8. OG says:

    I pretty much walked into that one…. Bee’s Knees, then ? Cat’s Pajamas ? Now there is something to consider.

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