Existential Harley

Yesterday was fabulous. The ride was better than expected except we got just a wee bit lost a few times and I thought that I ran out of gas.

For those in the dark, motorcycles that do not have a gas gauge come equipped with a handy fuel reserve. As my motorcycle wheezed and spat from fifth gear to fourth, I muttered all sorts of profane language and kicked my stupid self for not checking the fuel levels at the last pit stop. Then my friend from work pulled over, pointed to my fuel shut off switch and told me to turn it to reserve. EFFING DUH! I would like to think that had I been alone in this situation, I would have remembered but really, the more likely scenario is me with my thumb out like a Ted Bundy lure asking for a lift to the nearest gas station.

After the ride, I had five minutes to shed the leather for more appropriate Grandma gear and get out the door to Tiffani's baby shower. Her current situation isn't that far out of the ordinary. Girls are having their babies at a much younger age down here in the south. One man was surprised to learn that Dylan and Olivia were mine. He thought that their mother was this girl who happened to be twenty years old. I'm not sure where the disconnect happened since the second I walked in the door, Olivia draped herself over me and chanted, "Mama, Mama, Mama" like a Buddhist monk. She then proceeded to torment Dylan with little pinches and pokes until he was nearly spastic with his need to clobber her. I admire his self control. However, he did speak up once or twice: "MOM! DO SOMETHING!!" The point is that my kids clearly claimed me as their own and still, the man couldn't get his head around the fact that this forty year old (WHO, I REMIND YOU, LOOKS LIKE 32) had young children.

Anyway, it was a busy day. Today, I'm headed to the dealership range and then out for a ride with Dallas. While at the dealership yesterday, I ran into my friend Tim, the Rider's Edge instructor. He's teaching a small class this weekend and casually suggested that I hang around and chat with his students, presumably about my experiences so far. Eight weeks ago today, I was stressing about passing my road test.
Fifty six days.
Two months.
Impossible.
It feels like this has always been a part of my life.

Riding is one of the best decisions that I have ever made. Every day when I come home, open the garage door and see the two bikes, I am thrilled all over again. I ride daily, even if it's just a quick jaunt through the neighbourhood. Now, I acknowledge that I'm probably more passionate about this than a lot of people but there are these instances of indescribable joy that happen when you are on a bike. Yesterday, our route took us through a section where the road is bordered on each side by a wall of rock. The view ahead included a postcard panorama of forest, meadow and blue sky. It was sunny and clear and the scenery was absolutely breathtaking. As we passed through this mini canyon, the pipes of 250 motorcycles reverberated against the rock and in that moment, any stress in my life just melted away. I was filled with this sense of happiness and gratitude and I thought, "Wow. I cannot believe that my life looks like this."

And really, isn't that what it's all about? We spend our lives searching for whatever it is that gives us those bursts of clarity; the ones where we unconsciously focus on our blessings and where we come away with a sense of peace that even the worst day at work can't touch. My kids, the perfect chip shot and my Harleys provide those times for me.

It makes me tingly to think of what else might be out there that I haven't discovered yet.