Following My Heart Back Home

Following My Heart Back Home

I carry Love with me everywhereI stood in the gas station near Windham, NY, sweating. My shadow stretched out on the ground in front of me, surrounded by an orangey glow. This was it. Decision time.

In an instinctive move, I stepped forward, swung my leg over the saddle of my bike and turned the key. It was time to head south; time to head home.

Kenny wasn’t expecting me, so I was hoping he’d be excited to hear the unmistakeable sound of my Speed Triple humming in our driveway. Just 200 more hot slab miles stood between me and our little house. I put the hammer down and tried to ignore that sting that was starting to radiate across my hindquarters.

Our house is home of the best hugs in the world.

The following morning when Kenny came shuffling down the hall, I was already up and dressed to roll. “Where are you going now?” he asked.  Unfortunately, I hadn’t planned anything beyond getting my butt on the ferry and crossing the Long Island Sound, so I said… “I don’t know.”

View from the Port Jefferson Ferry

I had an 1:15 minutes to figure it out while I sat on the deck of the boat. What was the rush? I kissed my honey goodbye and headed for the ferry.

There was still more riding to be done.

4 Replies to “Following My Heart Back Home”

    1. Thanks, T 🙂

      You aren’t kidding. There IS always more riding to be done. Its kind of funny how you can just get home from one ride and already be thinking about the next. Or, planning the next trip while riding the current one!

  1. My wife asks me the same questions. No clue where I’m headed. The best feeling is when someone at work asks where I rode to this time – and I’ve really no idea of the town name. I can only describe it!

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