It’s funny how things change as time passes. When I first started riding it seemed like a 45 min ride was a grueling experience. It took me hours to psyche myself up for it and a full day to prepare for it and calm the excitement/jitters. Now, my perspective on riding has changed.
Just last night a conversation took place around a table with some fellow riding companions about what constituted a good ride and a 45 round trip just wasn’t something I get excited about anymore. I guess it all has to do with the amount our group has all ridden in the past.
I know it sounds silly but when a person is used to a 1 hour ride as a good start – 10 – 15 mins just pales in comparison.
The other thing about perspective that I find shifts is the ride or destination as well as the gift of meeting new people that this perception brings home to me. This year, our ride will take us to the United States of America and specifically the area around the North West and Central States. Names are being thrown around in tones of awe as if they were part of the quest for the Holy Grail. Spearfish. Billings. Crazy Horse Monument. Devils Tower. Needles Highway. Sturgis. The buzz words of the North American motorcycle culture. Murmured words of worship. Quick adjustment: communicating with someone who actually lives in the area who treats these names with the familiarity of an old friend.
It makes me take a step back and realize that the area I live in – an island off the coast of North America – is actually pretty special. Twisting highways that takes me along oceans and cold mountain lakes. Wildlife that roam and make this place home – bears, deer, raccoons, cougars, eagles, hawks, and too many more to count or list. And some of the best ….and worst… roads a motorcyclist could ever want.
Sometimes I’ve complained because there is only two ways to ride to “get” to the rides I want to take. Then I realized -> at least I get to ride them. Its all a matter of perespective.