Last year with the motorcycle I always felt that I had to
be driving flat out to get somewhere. Several times I had it running close to
one hundred miles an hour. No real destination, just motion.
There was no running or escaping from anything, just a
driving urge to be . . . somewhere. I put about ten thousand meaningless
meandering miles on the motorcycle during that season. Road noise was my
soundtrack.
I truly enjoyed it. What part of it I am not quite sure. When winter hit I sold the bike. I thought I had done it and got it out of my system. Then I bought another one.
So far I enjoy it more, the experience is the same and
yet different. I am more relaxed when I ride. I have any one of several
destinations in mind and I have taken a slower pace. None of this really means
anything other than I have slightly changed. I am a little more comfortable
with myself. I will see where it takes me.
Here's an interesting perspective on the whole 'miles-vs.-fun' thing. Language and grammar warnings apply, but it really is something that most travelers never consider.
ReplyDeleteGreat read. Thanks!
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