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Left the house at 6:45a...
F-f-f-froze my fingers numb and headed off to Marcus Dairy for morning coffee. IPOD humming.. fingers throbbing.. still.. smiling.

For my pop:

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Love is a many splendored thing.
What is love?
All you need is love.
How do you know when you're in love?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

So many questions revolve around the concept of love. What it is, can it be truly found at first sight? Well... as that darling rube Forrest Gump said.. ';I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is...'; so too do I know love.

Love is when your delicious honey voluntarily scrubs your hideously filthy, mud-encrusted motorcycle... just because.

Have i told you lately, that I love you?

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Okay, people. Batten down the hatches. The locusts are coming. The skies will run red with blood. Armageddon is upon us.

The BK Broiler does the Wing Thing...

'Does this thing make my butt look fast?'

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I rolled away from my garage at 5:20. The sky had not yet broken. The light was still tucked away behind the clouds that spat at me as I rolled along Sound Avenue towards the Oriet Point ferry. There wasn't another soul on the road. Just me rolling along behind the orange glow of my dash.

The sun began to peek thru - a HUGE orange sun. The kind that makes you have to pull over for a sec just to see it. As i caught glimpses of it thru the trees, it was like a magnet pulling me towards a place to stop to get a better look at her salmon colored fire. My photos could never capture the magnitude.

Madonna's - Nothing Fails played thru my IPOD as i sat there snapping the picture in the early morning solitude. I thought the lyrics were pretty fitting as I rolled off to the hum of the Triple sound.

';i'm not religious
Still I feel so moved
Makes me wanna pray...';

I pulled in to the Orient Ferry, grabbed a ticket as Bill & Tim rolled up followed shortly thereafter by Robert. The wind picked up, the skies greyed and things were looking.. well.. wet.

Off to Moto-Mart we rolled. 95 miles from the ferry. The sun was out, I actually got a light rosey tint on my cheeks. The big digi-thermo we passed said 74 degrees. Heavenly... That is of course until we headed towards RT 2 in North Adams. We had about a solid hour of rain. Now, I don't mind the rain really. Except of course when my jacket and pants FAIL to be waterproof!

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I rode my old girl today on my lunch hour to meet up with Kenny. Can I just say, that nothing beats the sound of the Termis at 80. The rumbling clunkity-clack-clack-shuga-clackity-clack-clack of the 996 is music. Weaving it's song thru the air, I feel like a million... no TWO million bucks.

I get the feeling like she says 'okay, people. i'm coming thru. move it or lose it.' Ugh. Pushy broad. I love her.

So, the other night I was trying to articulate to some of my friends how i'm going to tryyyyyyyy to be less judgemental of other people's riding. To which they promptly told me I was full of shit. I meant it at the time and i still mean it. I don't know if i will truly follow thru, but i want to.

By judgemental i mean, like.. when a comment like, ';ugh, i thought he loves to ride, wtf is crying about taking a 250 mile ride,'; or something of that nature slithers from my mouth with a venomous tone. Or how some people talk so much smack about loving to ride when they've got a 3 year old bike with under 10,000 miles on it. How is that even possible? See? This is what i'm talking about. Judgmental.

I know, people have kids and jobs, get abducted by aliens... things of that ilk that keep them away from the bike. I'm one of those folks too. I've been thrice abducted by aliens. Kidding. Twice. Joke old yet? I'm a workin' mom. I know what it means to have to take the riding while you can get it. I don't ride nearly as much as i used to or as much as i want to so, who am i to judge other peoples time and what they choose to do with it?

I'm a hag.

Over & out.

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