Being a biker isn’t easy - part II
August 7, 2005 - Part II
My ass is sore.
My shoulders ache.
My arms are tired.
My back is stiff.
I’m sunburned.
And this is only day one.
It won’t take long though, that I do know. After four or five days I’ll really be back in the saddle again, for after days of hugging the yellow line I’ll once more become accustomed to the rigors of long-distance motorcycle riding.
Those of you who never do more than a quick ride to work, or a short bar-hop on a Saturday night will never understand what it means to get dirty and gritty with asphalt perfume. Mile after boring mile, you think. Well, let me tell you, it’s never boring. You know why? Because there’s always another curve, more blue sky, another town, another bar, more hotels, women who want to know how long you’ll be here and where you’re going next. Old people walk up to you and tell you stories of the bikes they owned and the rides they took generations ago.
I’m ready for that and more.
Adventure awaits.
I am off.
I miss you, mon amour.
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