The storm rises and the pressure grows... I hear sounds off in the distance of memory and that foul tasting, claustrophobic panic rises in my throat again... and I have to ride.
The lightning is flashing in the distance as I pull on my gloves and turn the key. The engine rumbles to life and I can feel the throbbing vibration of the power under me. I can feel the panic of living in this life already starting to recede...
The wind feels fresh on my face as I roll out of the driveway...before I lower the visor.
I need movement... the sound of the tires over the breaks in the pavement, the rush and sweet scent of the wind... The throb of the engine, the feeling of my body merged with machine as it leans around the corners working as one. An invisible, unspoken request made; a nimble, unquestioning response from the bike given.
The demons in the wire begin to quiet...
Lightning and dark clouds behind and in front. The fresh scent of rain has washed away the stench of the smoke from the fire storms in the mountains that for days have awakened the sleeping demons in my mind.
A bubble of Freedom surrounds me and is carried along as the Raider rolls me away on that ribbon of asphalt that unchains a mans soul.
It is that bubble of Clear, pressure excluding air that is generated every time the bike is fired up; that keeps me moving. Somehow, if even for only a couple of hours, if even only a few pounds of pressure, the bike never fails to loosen the vise constricting my chest.
The grasping, prodding, thieves of a man's life seem to lose their power... while Two Wheels roll. And so I roll... with no purpose, no destination... just roll. Breathing without having to think; "Breathe in... Breathe out."
I Roll... for that bit of time... unencumbered by the meaningless, useless burdens thrust on me. I Roll... knowing the True Joy that Life can be... when the torments mankind has created are locked out.
I Roll... with a movie reel of life running through my head... that rapidly fades into insignificance... as long as the two wheels turn.
They say I'm crazy... that to ride is dangerous. They say I'm selfish... To ride is to run away. That I need to stop such doings, live safely and be who I am expected to be. Talk about it and work and put it all aside and behind. "They", haven't got a clue. The reality is far different. It has always been behind... Chasing. There is no closure, that is a fantasy and a fable. There is only endurance.
To NOT ride is dangerous. To NOT ride is an odious thought I cannot endure. The ONLY thing that seems to hold off the mind numbing reality of Life... is to ride... To NOT ride is to lay down and turn up my toes.
Grab Your Handles and Ride!
Brian
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... Splitting the wind on a Motorcycle... Feeding my soul with the Healing power of the Open Road... following that twisting, Ribbon of Highway that leads me on...
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