The article “Today I Ride” by Bud Miller was originally published on the “RoadRUNNER Motorcycle Touring & Travel” magazine website on 05/27/2012.
I ride along a perfect ribbon of pavement as a myriad of shades of green appear in the distance, lose focus, and then disappear behind me in a blur – the green rushing toward me and disappearing ahead at the same time into an endless single shade of blue.
There’s no yesterday, no tomorrow, no future, no past – nothing beyond the push and pull on the bars; the voice and vibrato of the machine that is now fused to me as I enable it to fulfill its purpose; the feel of the response to the slightest flick of the wrist; the entry and exit points of the next turn; the counter-steer; the lean angle and the dazzling sensory explosion of emotion as mind, body and machine coalesce into a perfect unit in search of only one goal: to be smooth, to process what’s approaching me, to interpret it, respond to it, and have it pass me by without a ripple in my rhythm.
It’s a perfect place I’m in. I am the dog with his head out the car window; she’s just said yes; school has let out early; I’ve caught the fly ball in the sweet spot of the glove; I’ve made the tag; scored the goal; tackled for a loss; beaten the buzzer; slain the dragon; rescued the damsel; aced the test; gotten the number and landed the job.
Laughing as I ride I can’t remember how far I have to go as the wind I’m creating blasts the thoughts of serious things off my body before they can settle into my brain and remind me that I have other concerns. Not today, at least not right now. Now is perfect. Now is enough, and there’s a little more of now right around the next bend, and the one after that.
If I could I would tear off pieces, giant chunks in fact, of this experience with my bare hands and give them to people who needed them; people I ache to see as happy as I’ve just been for however long the ride lasted. I’d give the pieces away willingly – it’s that good and I know where there’s more. There’s enough for everyone and I know where to find it.
When the ride nears its end it’s with an odd mix of emotions: glad to have ridden and accomplished the goal, yet melancholy that the goal has been accomplished and there’s no more road for today. Today’s ride will mill around awhile and then obediently find its cozy place in my memory to be called upon whenever I want to remember what this feeling is like. Each ride is unique, each special, each perfect in its own way, each a paragraph in a story that picks up from the last and leads to the next.
The promise of tomorrow is enough though; tomorrow’s potential and the memory of today are enough to sustain me until it’s time to suit up and feel this again. It won’t be long, I know.
Tomorrow I ride.
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Those old two strokes were a blast. I often think of finding one to run around on as a town cruiser. I just love the sound of the things. The 4 stroke thumpers just don't sound as good. I would have to get something a little bigger though. Even the 100's chassis is too small for me now though the engine had plenty of power up to around 50 mph.
I can see the writing thing is working out good for you. It's not easy writing descriptive posts, but it seems to me you have the hang of it. Keep it up. Heh. All I could ever write was lab reports. They weren't terribly descriptive or interesting.
I do need to plan a trip up your way to consume some frosty paralyzers at a minimum. It's been a while. Too long really. I just have to decide when to stop being so lazy.
Those little things look like a lot of fun. I want one to zip around my yard in, lots of terrain at my place to tear around on.
awesome, I've had similar feelings on the bicycle. I vividly remember trying to ride with better riders and bonking, i actually napped in a field once, only a vegetable honor stand with fresh tomatos saved me. I must admit I was nervous about the writing, I'm no expert; Cori said "write what you feel and your audience will find you". Thats worked out well. We should ride soon…
I rode my two wheeled conveyance into DC the past two weekends in a row. It's right close to a half century round trip and not at all flat. I was so tired each time I got back to the house, I nearly fell off the darn thing. The only sensory explosion I was feeling was a sore arse (I need a better saddle), a sore back, a sore neck, sore arms and sore thighs. I think I need to get a two wheeled conveyance where the motor isn't me. Saves on gasoline though. Funny thing is, I have developed some kind of complex where I ride out and back only using the bicycle. Loading it into a car and driving somewhere to ride is cheating. It isn't really cheating, but that's what complexes are about… being illogical.
I do know that feeling of riding a motorcycle you describe though Bud. Nearly forty years ago, I would blast down the trails in the Piedmont of North Carolina on an early 70's vintage Yamaha LT 100 my Dad bought new for my brothers and me to learn to ride. I was too small to be able to flat foot the bike when I first rode the 100. That always made for some interesting moments when I had to stop on the trail.
We also had a Yamaha Mini Enduro and that was the bike I first learned to ride on. I soon graduated to the 100, but for a long time the Mini Enduro was my favorite. Those bikes were just too darn fun and I miss those times riding with my Dad and my brothers. Why did I ever stop riding when I became an adult?
Here are some vids of bikes that show what they looked like and sounded like. Pure two stroke heaven I tell ya. Ciao.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YvQ8bTWdV0o&fe…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1oeeo_-5ZcI&fe…