A nice Saturday ride

It's only been a few days after my longest ride yet, easily over 150 miles including my commute to and from work that day.  I'm sure that a better writer could describe it in detail without the sickening use of so many adjectives.

This past weekend I got the chance to go over hill and dale, through valleys deep and wide and twist and turns at speed that challenged and scared me...while at the same time putting a grin on my face and a ringing laughter in my helmet that only I could hear.

Not the church in question but similar.

I lost track of the miles as my riding partner Gary choose a route through the orange groves and forgotten little towns of rural Florida.  We rode hard and faster than I would have liked at times due to a late start and the fact that I had to work late in the afternoon.  We rode for a solid two to three hours passing a small local winery...which frankly I hope to find again on another journey.  Past an old Spanish Church straight out of the American southwest which called for exploration but learning it's story will have to be put off for another day.

We rode on down tracts where farm equipment roamed free and threatened to push us off into the saw grass, past trees loaded with oranges and kumquats.  Turn after turn to the right, to the left until I was unsure if I knew how to get home if I should lose Gary around a corner.  Truthfully it would not of mattered, every road leads somewhere and once you're somewhere you can always figure out a way home.  A brief stop for gas to feed a hungry beast and his smile was as big as mine.  We were children on Christmas day again; all brought about by a few twists and turns in the road.

Just an old funky building found on another ride.

While the ride did encourage me to ride longer and harder, proving to me that I can indeed go more than 50 miles in any one direction - without numb ass too - it also got me thinking about one of the reasons I wanted to ride in the first place.  To discover the hidden parts of America you don't see from the Freeway.  That old Spanish church, a small winery, an old graveyard, some weird little building that has a story to us, if we are willing to listen.

I can also see the attraction of rallies and poker runs.  Making and sharing stories with new friends over endless cups of coffee at the local diner and then chewing up the asphalt.  I may have bought scooter with the intention of simply going back and forth to work with it, but damned if I don't want to do more with it now.  That sense of adventure...of wanderlust...is hard to explain.  I've had friends that have been bikers all their lives and who would try to explain it to me.  I don't think I ever "got it" till now.

You go into a twisty and you feel your body react...you see that butterfly at the edge of the road...Your connected to the world around you in a much different way when your riding.  Suddenly "taking the long way around" doesn't seem like it's that bad of an idea.  So yea, I hope to go riding with Gary or others again.  Hopefully we will have more than two and a half hours to spend on the road.