nklr moto-python and the leaning of mife
Posted: Thu May 03, 2001 7:17 pm
And now for something completely different:
Here lately, I have had the time alone to ponder and think: Just what it is
about dualsports that gets me excited when the weather warms and the
snow and ice melt? Why, when I can drive the wife's performance car do
I opt for riding the bike to work in the rain and cold? Why has my four
wheel drive pick-up sat since I got the KLR? Why is it that now I feel that
I need to keep a dualsport in the "stable"? Why not just stop where the
asphalt, gravel, graded, two-track, one and a half track ends? What drives
me to think I need to take a behemoth on single-track when I have a trail
bike? Am I nuts, or do I have very large ones? What would Phaedrus do?
Would Phaedrus care? Aw, he's too busy obsessing about obsessing
about what quality means. I'm beginning to think, I too, need some time
in a padded room to sort things out.
How could anyone be able to describe that it's the journey, not the
destination that's important? So many people get cought up in where
they've been and not in how they got there. Sure, Canyonlands NP is a
beautiful destination from the scenic overlooks, but if you ask anyone that
has ridden the White Rim what Canyonlands is like for them, they will
probably tell you that the experience is awesome. Experiencing something
and not just viewing it, is that what I'm after? I'd definitely enjoy being
stomped by a moose in Yellowstone than hit by a Winnebago from
Sheboygan on I-25. Not that I'd just lay there to be stomped (don't laugh,
it's happened). It's the little things that make a ride great, like stopping at
"Bob's Last Chance Gas" (I know it's Bob, his shirt says so) to top off the
tank (because it just might be the last chance for gas) and discuss the state
of the world. Remeniscing with strangers takes talent, but works as an ice
breaker. Waving at the first car you've seen in the last 3 hours. Helping a
rancher get his cow back in the fence with your bike and his pick-up. Getting
chased out of an area at gunpoint is exhilarating, but not a favorite thing.
Seeing that the "rat race" generally ends at the suburbs. Finding an arrow
point laying by your kickstand. Stopping to talk to the tanning naked girls
laying on a rock by a trail. SCHWIING!! Getting lost and finding your way out.
Don't know about that last one, I ALWAYS know where I am...within 50 miles.
Sorry for the ramblings of a crazy person. One more push and I'm over the.....
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEE
"Swede"
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