IT ALL BEGAN ONE DECEMBER DAY 2000

Most people say that you can not change once you become an adult.. that once you grow up.. that is pretty much it. You will either be this type of person, or that type of person... We pin labels on people to define who they are.. I have never been one of those label people. I have always gone against the grain. Not much of a follower and not much of a leader. So on that December day when Steve finally coaxed me into going on a ride with him.. I thought why not.. Why not rock my world a little bit..

Steve fitted me with a helmet with a face shield and bundled me up in an old leather jacket of his. We saddled up and headed out of his apartment complex.. It was a pretty brisk and sunny day out.. Brisk turned to down right freezing as we began our journey. At that time we did not have a communication device so we had to shout back and forth.. I remember riding down the entrance ramp to 459 and the gradual exceleration of speed.. I thought my head was going to snap back into another county at that point... I was holding on to the grips of the bike on either side of me as well.. In fact I think I left finger indentations on those grips . I could not get over how icy the wind had become... or that I was actually sitting on a 2 wheels with a motor attached. It was exilerating to say the least. I really could not relax and enjoy the experience though because .. well for me it was different.. such a huge step out of the box. When we came back home.. I thought to myself wow.. I did it... I thought maybe with a few modifications.. I might actually enjoy this new adventure. Over time we got a communication sytem that is in our helmets.. I moved to a full face helmet which I prefer. We can converse with each other or listen to music. A good bit of the time though I like being quiet and just absorbing the world around me. Just feeling the wind, against my skin.. Sometimes as we traverse old windy back roads.. It is as if we were falling back in history.. I try and imagine what life was like , when these towns were booming. Sometimes when we would ride through wooded areas.. I start thinking about how the Indians made their way across the hillsides. To this very day , 6 years later, I love riding the backroads.. I love seeing old cabins and farms... I love even seeing old grave yards.. where so much history rests... Riding gives me the opportunity to be grateful for all there is to see. For all there is to appreciate in our priceless enviroment. From watching the leaves change , to ridng on beautiful sunny days.. to even riding ( though seldom) in rainy weather..On that cold December day.. my poetry came back, my pros came back and each new ride gives me something new.
Until we meet again,
Happy Trails