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2006-01-03 - 8:23 p.m.

So I have been fused at for never posting .

I would like to say that it is not my fault…aliens ate my laptop, I cant get connected in the ass end of Maryland, I have nothing to say, my life is boring! So leave me alone!!!

But I doubt that anyone would really believe me.

So how about my real excuse…
I cant access Diaryland at work, and therefore while I am feeling the most creative (of course this happens when I am trying to avoid work) I don’t have the tools to write.
Ok…this is only a half truth. I do have Word at work…and of course I could email the file to myself at home, but for some reason, this seems like too much work. I mean really…all my entries would prety much look the same: Spent the week traveling to the same place that I did last week, and when I finaly came home, another fish was dead. I mean really! Who in their right mind would want to read such things. Not I…that is for sure.

I could try and spice things up a bit by saying that I got to eat lunch in a tiny little dive that is sandwiched between a titty bar and a didlo shop, but folks would not likely understand.

Then there was the sitting around in a Borders trying to download a few files so that I could sit around my hotel room all night and rot my brain by playing games. But again…I don’t think folk would really understand.

Oh…and then there is the trip to the hood…a part of town that looks like it belonged in a 3rd world country under seige. A place where the TFO’s with me calmly explain that there is a good 25% chance that a minor drug lord or crack whore may take a few shots at the car…or at least brandish a weapon and hurl threats at us and our families. But that is something that I don’t understand…let alone anyone else.

I mean really. When you spend all your days traveling to the same very un-exotic and un exciting places like Hagerstown, you tend not to have much to write about. Or at least nothing that most folks would care about.

I can tall you all about the paper thin pillows at the Microtel, and how I stuff them with towels in hopes of making something suitable to rest my head.

I could tell you about eating out 3 times a day and how miserable that becomes. Is it a sad thing that I relish sitting on my sofa at home and eating cheerios out of a real bowl with a metal spoon? I could tell you that my wardrobe now consists of only what lives in my duffel bag. I mean everything I wear now comes home on Friday, into the wash on Saturday, and back into the bag on Sunday.

I guess all I can really say is that my daily life is like an Groundhog day. Every week…it is the same ole same ole. Kinda boring eh?

So come on Bear…I know it cant be that bad. There has to be some neat things that have been happening in your life right?

Hmm…I rode the SV this last weekend. That is fun, in a very cold sort of way. In fact, have you ever ridden a motorcycle in 35 degree weather? 65mph in the dark, in the cold is…exhilarating! Cold…for sure…but when you are out there, crouched over the tank, desperately sucking ever last scrap of heat from the beast your barely hanging on to. Staring into the dark with your visor cracked open to keep the shield from fogging, which causes the snot to run down your chin in a torrent because of the cold wind in your face. Listening to the wind ripping at your body, clawing at every irregularity on your helmet, creating a thunderous roar that threatens t drown out even your thoughts…you know…you really know that your alive. You hurt…Not right away…it take a little while, but eventually, your hands, your legs, your feet, your face all start begging you to slow down, to make it less cold, to just stop…only for a minute. But you know that you cant. You don’t want to, no matter how bad it hurts, no matter how cold it gets. As long as you can keep a grip on the throttle, you know you can keep going, and that is what is important. And then there comes a point when you body stops caring how cold it is…when you stop caring about where you are or what you have to do. You begin to realize that there is nothing but the the wind tearing at you, the bike growling under you, and your feeble light trying to keep up with your ever increasing speed. It is all about the now. RIGHT now. The feel of the road…the road who is your enemy, your friend. Every corner is a gamble…will it be the one that puts you down? Grinding your machine to scrap…grinding your body to scrap? Or will you push the corner forcing the bike to maintain its feeble grip on the road only to take you to the next corner, the next challenge? And when you have a close shave…you find God…if only for a moment. And you swear to him that you will never be so foolish with your life again…and up comes that hard left with the reducing radius, and you throw the bike back down again…and God is only a wisp in your mind. Slowly the corners begin straighten out, the pace relaxes…you relax and before you know it…you find yourself on the long…boring… straights…and you begin to think…think…think.

Eventually the cold catches up with you again. It is seeping onto your core, and you are truly beginning to feel miserable. You start wondering why you took the bike out today? You wonder why you did not wear more layers. You think that this will be the last time that you ever do something this foolish again. And then you start thinking that if you go just a little faster, you can get home to your warm home just that much sooner. But really…it doesn’t help. And…Time…slows….for… you. Those cold straight roads do that to you ya know. And suddenly you are again aware of every ache, sting, bite, sore, and pain that is present in your body.

And then you realize that your there. Home…Warmth, Comfort, Safety. And as you slowly put your bike in its normal parking spot, and shut things down…you feel a bit of relief. You body slowly stops hurting as you pull off your helmet. Your hands start stinging as you slowly putt the cover on your baby. And as you turn for the door you catch yourself wondering when you will get a chance to do it all over again. When you will get the chance to Live again…


So I am still sitting here in a Borders…drinking coffee, writing, listening, and wondering…What part of the ride is this? And how much longer will it be…till I get to do it again?

 

 

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