Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Again...off on my own because we are in playoff hockey and that means that all the rituals need to be performed before each game. I was a little timid - but hey - I made it up my driveway and out to the open road. It is strange to have no destination in mind so I quickly decide the beach is where I want to be. As I head south I feel more comfortable. I like the groove of the bike....I have to brake for someone who decides to make a u-turn on the bottom of a hill...but I was prepared.

I got my first official wave from a biker this year...and it was a wave with a smile. I liked that. He probably liked that I smiled back too. We are all looking for that recognition. I make it along Marine Drive and the sputtering warns me I am almost out of gas. I am thankful that I brought my wallet this time. Again a first - I have to fill it up by myself. Bravado kicks in quickly with me as I try to figure out that my tank is locked with a different kind of lock.

You can't look cool when you are studying how to put a gas cap back on properly. Why try anyway? So I don't. I continue on my little venture and realize that I might happen upon people who think I am a poser. Oh no...I suddenly realize I would rather be far off on a country road than have anyone staring at me. But I am committed to driving down Marine Drive in full view of those that might care to judge. I run the gauntlet unscathed and continue on my way.

The bike is feeling more comfortable. We are more in sync. I am in tune with the timbre of the motor, reaching its peak before changing gears. I feel relaxed with maneuvering through the roundabouts, thinking of all the new drivers who must be confused. The ride home feels less adventurous. Less appealing in fact. It is, after all, about the destination - the purpose of the trip in the first place.

I am here now hearing in the background that my sweethearts' team is down 4 -1. Now 5-1 in the time it took me to get the words out. Ken will be sad. Sad is the most I will allow. Devastation would be allowed for the year we have had. For all our youngest daughter has had to endure. Devastation would be allowed for a death in the family....Sadness for your team will suffice. Riding season is here....and so the next time I go to the beach, I hope he pays for the gas.......

No comments:

Post a Comment