As I ride in the heavy humid morning air, I’ve got some things on my mind today. Most noteworthy is what happened to my friend Barney. We go way back, and used to be related through marriage, although it might take me 3 tries to explain that. Well, my sister got divorced years ago and now we are just friends. Barney has ridden motorcycles for years. He rides Harleys and I know him to be a very good and experienced rider. Unfortunately, as we all know, sometimes experience is not enough. Earlier in the week, a delivery driver pulled out right in front of Barney and sideswiped him. The impact was severe and Barney has serious injuries. He’s had one surgery and will need at least 2 more. To be sure, the recovery will be long and painful.
I’ve been thinking about Barney and the risk he and all of us take every time we throw a leg over the motorcycle. Sometimes that risk is not very apparent, but today, at least for me, it surely is. That reality is hitting me hard. We do everything we can to mitigate our risk, but sometimes, it’s just not enough. And the other thing is this: if someone else’s (or our own) stupidity takes us out – completely out, then while tragic, we leave our loved ones behind without burden. But what if it happens like Barney’s accident – he’ll recover, but not without a TON of inconvenient support for a LONG time by the people he loves?
So today I’m riding along the back roads of south Louisiana. I’ve ridden these roads hundreds of times. I know these curves like the back of my hand. And yet, I’m feeling a bit spooked. Barney’s accident has got me a bit gun shy. I’m looking at this same pavement, and for the first time in a long time, I’m questioning whether the juice is worth the squeeze.
Then out of nowhere, my ear buds start what is arguably the greatest song of my lifetime. And it all started to make sense again.
I found a tree by the brook (Bayou) where a songbird sang, and I started to think that my thoughts were misgiven. And it made me wonder.
As I rode to the west, I saw the rings of smoke through the trees. And I heard the voices of my fellow riders who stood looking.
Without doubt, the new day had dawned, and the forest echo’d in laughter. But sill, it makes me wonder.
So there was a bustle in my hedgerow, but the more I rode, the less I became alarmed. After all, there’s still time to change the road I’m on.
My head was indeed humming, but I can’t hear the piper calling me. I do hear the wind blow, and indeed I absolutely do know, my stairway most certainly lies on this whispering wind.
And as I’m winding down the road, my shadow’s is with me, watching my soul. The world is wonderful through the helmet shield, turning everything to gold. I’m listening very hard, and I can hear and see that all is one, and one is all.
I got home before noon, about 175 miles for the day. After lunch, I wiped the bugs off the bike and with a cold beer in hand, I sat down on my shop chair to reflect. I’m older and wiser, well aware of the risk and the possible consequences. But the reward is still well worth it. I hope that continues for the foreseeable future, yet I know there are no guarantees.
For now, I’ll just watch the stairway respectfully from a distance.
Stay thirsty, my friends…..
