So, Where Are You Headed?
So, Where Are You Headed?
This has to be one of the most common opening questions that people ask motorcycle riders. If the asker isn’t much of a rambling-type, the answer “nowhere in particular,” seems to baffle them at times. I suppose only the wanderers find that much of the pleasure is in the doing not in the arriving.
On Sunday while I was having lunch on the patio of the very tiny Winsted Diner, a woman at a neighboring table called over to me and said, “your bike looks pretty muddy. Where’ve you been?” And aside from being mid-chew, my answer was delayed because the truth was – I had no idea.
Well, I knew what state I was in. And if given a map I could’ve backtracked my way to the spot that I foolishly dipped in to a couple deep, nasty, puddles on a lonely road. Puddles that could’ve suctioned me in to the point that I would’ve had to walk somewhere for help. But, offhand? I had no idea what town it was in. I had been just wandering. My reply to her, “somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been,” was the truest answer I could come up with. And maybe the truest of all.
Don’t know where I’ve been or where I’m going. And somehow, that’s alright.
I more often get asked “You mean you rode that thing from Alaska!?”. I’ve heard that comment numerous times regarding both my 33 year old BMW and the Ural. Neither is very shiny and after going through Canada, covered with mud…
I like your response.
I, too, like your response. I have no idea where I’ve been is an enviable riding state of mind: It suggests the zone, immersion in the experience at hand, ahhh-bandonment of troubling thoughts…
Or concussion. It… It could indicate concussion.
Wander on, Fuzzy-G. Wander on. 🙂
I think my favorite one was when I had to ask the nice gal at the fast food joint just what town I was in.
I knew where I was coming from, knew I was on the road going to where I wanted to be. But, heck, had NO idea where I was in between. All I saw was some friendly looking burger joint lights up ahead like a beacon in the darkness.
She looked at me like I was a little crazy.
Maybe I was. 🙂
I’m still baffled myself sometimes not knowing where i’m going. It is though one of the real joys of riding to let everything go.
It’s probably why the opening of THEN CAME BRONSON resonated so strongly with me.
Great post. Would love to run into a little lunch place like that around here.
Scooter in the Sticks
During rallies I have been in situations where I have had no idea what state or possible what city I was in. But I could tell them I was just at bonus location XYZ.
The question itself reveals the different mindset between them (non-riders) and us (riders). It’s not the destination, but the journey. I’m riding up to Toronto tomorrow and the only plan/preparation I’m making is to bring my passport.
I love your example here, your attitude, and your embrace of this whimsical little place. The hotdog-person is wonderful. (It doesn’t need a gender.)
Funny how when you take to 2 wheels how you end up rambling around, but I always end up back at home somehow. 🙂