Yesterday dawned brilliantly sunny. Low humidity and no rain forecast for the entire day.
I mentioned the forecast to The Spouse on Thursday, and he said what I hoped to hear, “you should go for a ride on your Harley.”
So I cleared my Saturday schedule of most things… only leaving two essentials…
…mail a package that I promised to send to a buddy, and get some plants for our front garden for The Spouse.
Those things completed by 1000, I pulled on my newest pair of Chippewa Firefighters, then proceeded into my garage to check out my long-neglected Harley.
All was well, even tire pressure. He was anxious to get out.
I decided to ride by myself since the group I used to ride with was going to a poker run. I hate poker runs. No other buddies seemed to be available. That’s okay… I kinda wanted to ride by myself anyway.
I gave The Spouse a kiss, mounted up, and took off.
Originally, I had a destination in mind to find a historical site a friend asked me to find, but as I was riding along, I found that a major bridge over the Monocacy River was closed, so I decided to detour and ride around my home county’s bucolic countryside.
I deliberately “got lost” and rode over 120 miles to nowhere… anywhere… just me and my Harley’s quiet, smooth rumble.
Boots up on the riding pegs, sit back, relax, and ride as slowly as you want on totally empty country roads of my home county. Ahhh… just what this biker needed.
Life is short: ride your own ride.