Alive again

[Rick Morris]

@Rick,
That grass will be 3 hairs higher when it gets mowed...next week...But today? right now? today is the first and last day you have.

I saw you posted a pic from the fallen warriors ride and if you're a brother in arms as well as a brother on 2 wheels, then you know that more than most.

When your turn comes for them to pry your angry, gnarled little fists off the handlebars, are you going to remember you kept your lawn manicured real nice or are you going to remember the ride today with another brother, on the back of a prehistoric god, resurrected and carved out of steel and smoke and fire and lightning?

Will everyone around you remark how you never missed a day of work...at the work box....sucking down someone elses idea of living, or will they remember the stories you tell about TODAY, and the smells of everyone else cutting their grass because you chose to take back another little piece of the soul you have to give up every other day?

That Rex in your garage isn't asking to be let out, he isn't wanting to go for a jog, he's angry watching you shuffle from place to place..Every day for him is freedom and the only time he wakes up is when it's time to go piss off the raptors, piss on the cockroaches, and to remind everyone who sees him that life doesn't come from Amazon, it doesn't come in a box, and you can't ever get one second of it back.

Is the house falling down? The bills paid? Family safe? No problems there? Then you have freedom, freedom many don't and never will, freedom you are squandering right now.....

You are among the chosen, the few who can, the men who will.

That long ride? That call that came in from a buddy? That's your life passing you by and that Carnosaur in your garage is shaking it's head. Are you gonna let him do that or are you going to go kick him in the ribs and tell him to roar all he wants because today isn't passing you by anymore....

Sir, In full disclosure I already knew what I was going to do. However I wanted to see another paragraph or two from you. I feel that Hunter S. Thompson and the great one himself Mr Ernest Hemingway would enjoy your written words that come from your soul. I don't always have the opportunity to correspond with some one with your eloquent style of wordsmiths. I rode, I rode a long ride and smiled every mile. Thank you.

 

[Rick Morris]

The lawn will still be there when you get back, but today will be gone. You know what to do.

Agreed. I did indeed ride. I just wanted to read another fine writing by Mr.Phalanx

 

[Manic_Mechanic]

I love when some little "my car is a whatnot with a so and so engine and a fart-pipe exhaust" pulls up, revs at me, and I just let him rip on past....Knowing full well that he wouldn't even be a breakfast snack to this monster. You go ahead and get that ticket, I could have peeled the paint off your doors with a flick of my wrist.

I look forward to that big open bridge that stretches on for ages and the feeling that old-man wind is having a tough time shoving me around because the monster on 2 wheels under me has bigger teeth and knows how to plow through him.

I love the 2 am back-roads where I can go hunting for that line, a little more lean here, a little less there and that anti-gravity feeling of whipping an uphill turn as you get back on the throttle.

I grin from ear to ear at the gas-stations, taking my time, not ripping through and racing to get from one box to the next...house box...car box...office box....food box....all full of processed air and mindless repetition.

I love when I get to a stop-light and a guy on a scooter pulls up, his eyes wide like saucers and rather than ripping off the line, I ease on out with him for just a little ways, slow and deliberate.....One day, that guy on that scooter may be another brother of mine on a real motor and I want him to remember this one when he goes to buy his!!

I hate getting home and knowing the ride is over for the night. Having to lock it up and turn off the lights on something that has a life of its' own, a full on dose of fire-breathing dragon, a chariot to Olympus, Valhalla and everywhere else the men of steel go when the candle goes out for the last time.



I want to ride this **** thing until they have to handcuff me to my walker and pry my gnarled angry little fists off the handlebars while I'm cussing enough to make the lot of them blush and God help 'em if they ever take their eyes off me for a minute because the last sound they're gonna hear is that triple spinning up and the ground begging for mercy.

Hell yes, born again riding the highways and backroads in the saddle of a modern day T-Rex in disguise.

Led Zep...Ramble On

 

[CanberraR3]

Note to self. Never let curiosity convince me to un-ignore someone ever again.