Road trips….

I’ve spent a lot of time on the road. On the road, driving by car to and from various contract gigs, and rolling up at least 100,000 miles on motorcycles.

Of these trips, the bike rides always seem to yield the most interesting experiences for me. People react differently to folks on bikes. Their reaction falls into one, of two, distinct camps in my experience.

The first camp is comprised of those folks who are fearful of bikers. Some of these folks may have had a bad experience with bikers. They might be afraid of what might happen; bikers (in general) after all do have a rather nasty reputation. Some (mothers I’m sure), seem to have this distant stare where, in my mind, they’re picturing their child after a bad accident on a bike. They seem to stare distantly for a moment, then give you that ‘mother look’ as they turn away.

The second camp is comprised of (at least) three types of people.

The first is folks who currently ride. They’ll generally walk right up, make a complimentary statement about your bike, and then start right in telling you about theirs. A trip they’re planning, one they took last year, or the new ‘part’ they’re adding to the bike this year.

The second are the folks, usually older (like my age) who rode at one time in their life. These folks will approach a little more cautiously, watching your eyes to see if you seem receptive. They too will make a comment like “nice bike”, ask where you’re headed (I could be getting gas at the corner station, someone still always asks where I’m headed), and then will tell you about the bike they had. Usually they were in their teens, and are hoping to ride again one day soon.

The third group is made up of those folks who have always dreamed of owning, and riding, a motorcycle. They’ll usually shout their “nice bike” from a few gas pumps away. If you acknowledge the comment, only then will they approach and begin to tell you how long they’ve dreamed about owning and riding a bike. Places they’ve dreamed about going, the kind of bike they’ve always wanted and why they’ve just not gotten around to it yet.

There have been times when those types of things have happened when not on a bike, but, they were rare, and only when I had a “righteous ride”, or at the least something radical.

So, for me, traveling by motorcycle is at least twice as much fun as traveling by any other means. I enjoy hearing the stories these folks tell me, it’s a bond, sort of. They want to share with me, the joy they’ve found in something they know we share. Its one little piece of motorcycling that would keep me riding, if none of the rest of this was there.

It’s not all fun and games. Riding bikes is dangerous, and can get you dead, if you don’t stay focused. For me however, it’s precisely the focus, the heightened awareness, the total ‘in the moment’ experience that defines motorcycling, and that’s at the very root of my love of it.

At the same time, I’m often heard saying that “You’re never quite as alone as you are when you’re riding a motorcycle”. There’s nothing else, except that experience, and you. You’re in charge of your destiny, how fast, how slow, how far ahead you’re planning. Is that curve ahead going to get tighter beyond where you can see, where to set up for the turn in? What are the road conditions like, is it damp, sandy, is there debris on the surface?

All the while, you’re smelling cut grass, fresh manure; hear the sounds of the combines bringing in corn. You can feel the temperature shift as you head into that valley, the cool breeze coming off the lake, your wife or girlfriend leaning into your back, reminding you you’re sharing this experience with her. You’ll hear crickets, dogs, livestock, bull frogs, birds and cicada’s as you roll down the road.

In these days of highly air conditioned, sound proof vehicles, killer stereos, cell phones, personal listening devices and in car DVD players we’re cut off from the outside world once we close those doors. We’re just cruising along in living room luxury.

That’s why my bike is relatively Spartan in terms of creature comforts. I do have a windscreen for trips that will involve 100’s of miles on the concrete slabs that are the interstate. As well as saddlebags, tankbag and a seat pack to hold the required gear on a long trip. Other than that, it’s bare essentials all the way.

You see, in motorcycling, as in life, it’s the journey that matters. Or as my old biker buddy Tim White used to say “The ride is the destination”.

I intend to write some soon, about the adventures on two wheels that Tim and I have shared. One real thing we had in common was that, riding, was what we wanted to do. We worked for a time at the same company, and each Friday folks would always ask where he and I were headed on the bikes that weekend. Our answer was always the same one word “Riding”. We weren’t being flippant, or sarcastic, just stating a fact.

We rarely knew when we left work that day, where exactly we’d end up. Sometimes we’d flip a coin, or alternate turn choices, at the first dozen intersections, before we had even a general direction. Once we’d gotten 30-40 miles out of town, we’d stop, drag out a map, look for some good roads in our general area and head for them. Riding until dusk and then looking for a small motel before calling it a night.

Often we’d sit around the pool, or anywhere outside, and talk about the ride, remembering curves, deer or wild turkeys that had crossed in front of us, and sometimes drag that map out again looking for the nearest twisty roads by flashlight for our trek in the morning.

On occasion if it had been a particularly hot day, we’d have a beer or two, but never more than two it seemed, and on nine out of ten nights just a cold bottle of water or ‘Gatorade’. Alcohol dulls the senses, slows your reaction times, neither of which is desirable when motorcycling!

Tim and I racked up close to 20,000 miles together in just about a year, our jobs did not require us to ride and we usually drove our cars to work! With the exception of one trip up to NY, we rode all of those miles in North Carolina. I could post blogs for a month, just about our trips, and not cover a tenth of our experiences, or the fun we had.

Tim, and his wife Donna live in Missouri these days, but we managed to get together again back in 2001 for a couple of great rides; the first was on RealLady’s and my “motorcycle honeymoon”, the second was our vacation later that year to the Rockies. I suspect those will be the first two rides I write about as they’re the freshest in my mind. They each deserve their own post though; one could not possibly do either trip justice!

As always, thanks for reading… Feel free to leave me a comment, thought or idea before you go!