Category: Motorcycle

Blog posts about motorcycles.

A Foggy Virginia Morning with Cows

A Foggy Virginia Morning with Cows

While life unfolded around me – school buses came, people went to work, cows took a morning dip – I just stood. I stood looking at the hills rolling away into the fog.

At first, I thought that maybe I stood there doing nothing. But nothing is far from the truth. I stood watching, knowing, bearing witness to everything before me.

At first glance, some things don’t show their true selves. It is only through continued observation and patience that they make themselves known.

Sometimes all you need to do is change your perspective to see beautiful things. But first and foremost, you have to want to.

My Secret Little World

My Secret Little World

It’s funny when I meet people who initially “know” me from my blog. I can’t say why, but I find it embarrassing when they talk to me about it or say that the like reading it. It’s almost as if these posts exist somewhere outside of me, in some foreign land that I only know peripherally. I mean, part of the reason that I like to write things down is that I am so abysmal at conveying my thoughts through conversation. So, when someone talks to me about something I wrote, though I’m grateful they appreciate it, I often feel like I’m on the spot.

This quirk might be something akin to my weird relationship with vanity. For lack of a better word, it seems sinful to be proud of the things I do. It is rare that I will volunteer to someone I meet that I keep a blog. Is that strange? I mean, it’s not like it’s a secret or anything. But, the idea that I might have to explain what it’s about? No, thank you.

Rewinding the Spring – Returning from a Road Trip

Rewinding the Spring – Returning from a Road Trip

Each time I’ve come home from a riding trip, there is a strange period of decompression that happens. Or maybe re-compression – that’s likely more accurate because it’s the process of rewinding my internal spring too tightly.

When I ride home through the NY Metro gauntlet back to the place where I live, my nerves immediately start twiddling knobs and set all phasers to stun. I’m jolted by the electricity of feeling like everyone is too close to me at all times. It feels chaotic and like everything is out of control. There are too many cars, too many people, too much noise, too many signs, too many of everything! It is a reminder of how adaptable to your surroundings the brain is. In no time at all, these things that overstimulate will fade into background noise. It’s just that gray transition area between solitude and mania that is most uncomfortable.

As the scale begins to tip closer towards home and further from away, I have to work to hang on to the good feelings that sustained me over the miles. This is when the work of remembering happens.

A Great Big Cup O’ Coffee in Wilkes-Barre

A Great Big Cup O’ Coffee in Wilkes-Barre

This big coffee mug sits vacant in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania on Spring street. A wonderful dream – unrealized.

Are we all standing at the edge of greatness? Is it always there waiting for us to take a leap of faith and grab hold of it?

Happiness – is there anything greater than that? At times, it can seem like a moving target. But, when I stop and think about the core elements of what brings it to me, there are some simple truths. It is only after I start meddling by over-thinking, turning knobs and flipping switches that things get complicated. That’s when peripheral garbage distracts me from what is at the center of things.

The relaxed part of the mind knows the way. If only I would listen to it.

Perhaps I should switch to decaf.

Wrestling the Monster of Pre-Trip Guilt

Wrestling the Monster of Pre-Trip Guilt

Whenever I am getting ready to head off on a solo trip somewhere, inevitably I find myself conflicted by a range of discordant emotions. There is, of course, the giddy excitement and wonder about what I’ll see and do along the way. But, conversely, there are the feelings at play that work to undermine my positivity. The big one? Guilt.

Guilt : noun
2 b: feelings of deserving blame especially for imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy : self-reproach

To put it plainly, guilt is a fucking asshole. And because the feeling is self-induced, ergo I too,… well, you know.

Sometimes the hardest thing about taking a trip is just getting out the front door. The challenge comes from releasing yourself from the must-dos, have-tos and ought-tos. It is in those moments of feeling selishness or self-doubt that I have to remind myself of what it was that pushed me towards making the decision to go in the first place.

Fear, guilt, self-doubt – they’re all just slow and painful ways of poisoning yourself.

%d bloggers like this: