Is that roadrash all over your body, or are you just happy to see me?

It was observed yesterday that a motorcycle was seen on the streets of Cowtown. Yes, it was 7 degrees (~40 F) yesterday so I am not questioning the rider in question from a "sanity check" perspective...yet I can't help but wonder if said rider has noticed the volume of rock shards that were spread all over the road after November's dump a la neige.

I prefer my Road Rash to be accompanied by some beer and "herbal essence"...preferrably on a 19" monitor.

But that is not what I wanted to write about today.

Had a discussion with some friends this morning; more random chatting really...but let's not dissect this...yet. As always I am looking for my muse and biding my time until I can ride again. So far it has been 56 days since I last rode (I don't count Day 9 when I rode to the gas station and topped up the Silver Jet [aka the Hammerhead]...see prior post). This is a long time...especially when one considers the relationship one has with one's ride. I anticipate that it will be approximately another 99 days before I ride again...God/weather willing. During this time I fully expect to receive various mean-spirited notes from my friend in the Big Shitty describing trysts and forays he experiences with Naked/Sexy...he really can't help himself and I would do the same to him.

I console myself with the realization that he IS in Toronto all the time and THAT more than compensates for any extra riding he gets in.

Which segues quite nicely back to my prior random thought...which I neglected to segue FROM. But writing IS an art and I, therefore, can be afforded some liberties in this "long-anticipated-and-soon-to-be-critiqued-but-appreciated-for-what-it-is-anyway diatribe-ian muse".

Today I was inspired again...and what inspired me was something that I had never before considered to be inspirational (again see prior post).

Today I was inspired by the image of pink and black riding leathers. Although I guess it would be remiss of me to point out that if the planets had been aligned differently, there is a chance that I would have been inspired by the image of purple riding leathers.

Yes, it's true.

No...really....

What?

No, they aren't Marty's, although I am sure he has some to fit his diminutive frame. Marty's tastes meander not unlike a mountain stream; and he IS from London.

Yes...I will continue now...

The thought of said pink/black leathers affected me in a way that isn't not un-dissimilar from the affect felt by Andrew Largeman as Sam climbed onto the back of his grandfather's Dnepr.

I never should have referenced GS...the thought of NP has now invaded my mind. This may prose a problem for me...

Back to pink and black leathers.

I want to spend some time on the Silver Jet / HH next summer. I'd prefer a riding partner, as I almost always do, but expect that the logistics of convincing someone to spend an extended period of time in random ride mode with me may be "obstaclacious"...urban dictionary, here I come...but I will make the effort nonetheless.

Random Thought: Paul spent a considerable amount of time riding while in Hawaii last fall recording World Container; all these years and I didn't know he rode. I keep no secrets from him........

The thing about riding is the sense of sameness that can be experienced while you are alone. When I pass another F150, the driver and I don't exchange waves...we just stare ahead into the void. When I put gas into the Corolla, the lady in the yellow curlers doesn't come over and ask me what year it is and how long I've been driving a Toyota...she grabs some chips and pop for the kids in the back seat and drives away with her signal light still blinking.

I know that any excursion undertaken on SJ/HH will inevitably find me meeting someone new...at least new to me...at some point or another. This is a given. I may dislike the person/people, but we will connect in some way.

Right now I am feeling a little disconnected...but I need to thank Kelly for reminding me (unintentionally) about what it is that keeps me going.

Maybe I need to put Michigan on my destination list. She can join me for 3 hrs, which would match her current high, then I'll carry on.

You just never know where you'll end up...but that IS the point...isn't it?

Santé