When you stop and think about all of the ways that you have changed as a person over your riding lifetime, it’s surprising. For me, wherever I’m at seems like where I’ll always be. When you’re 23 and riding around on sportbikes being an asshole, you can’t imagine life in any other way. I don’t know if that is a symptom of youth or a personality trait. My own progression over the years still catches me off guard, when I am struck by a moment of clarity. This probably has little to do with riding itself but more with the evolution of a person.
The Dreaded Slab
Or… Maybe Not So Much?
To be clear ~ I don’t enjoy droning along on the slab. Buuuuut there are times when I simply don’t hate it either. Could this be an evolution caused by circumstance? Maybe. Usually when I have to do it means I’m going somewhere. Highway stints become a means to an end. And as such I guess I’ve learned that at times it’s “fine.” These long rides become time to think, to look at the clouds, to wonder about what’s coming next.
As we hummed along route 78 heading west, the skies began to break. A lightness behind the cloud began to filter through the grey skies. I kept reminding myself that even though the highway ride wasn’t ideal, it was still worthwhile. In a few short hours, we would find ourselves picking and choosing between the wiggly roads of West Virginia.
Enjoy the ride. Always.