Where Did You Go?

December 14^th, 2004

After every ride, I'm faced with the same challenge. My wife (always concerned about my personal well-being) asks, "Where did you go?" or "How was your ride?" These seemingly straightforward questions always result in my groping around in my gray matter for an intelligent answer.

In regard to "where", my problem is that I generally don't go anywhere. Most of my rides are exactly that - a ride. Most of my day trips start out with a direction I want to ride and some roads I want to travel. For example, last Friday I ran up I-64 to US360 (East) to VA3 then to VA33 until I got back to I-64 and headed back to Virginia Beach. This resulted in a 300-mile trip, but I didn't go ANYWHERE. I didn't have a destination in mind other than starting in Virginia Beach and ending in Virginia Beach. There are a lot of motorcycle enthusiasts who actually plan trips. These riders incorporate their desire to go to a specific destination and to travel on their vehicle of choice (their bike). They manage to stop at scenic locations, get in some sightseeing, take a few pictures, and bring back memories of new (and sometimes old) locations.

While my secondary intention was to log in some roads I hadn't traveled before, my primary intention was to "go for a ride." On my recent trip, I did accomplish two of the four activities listed above. I would have gotten some pictures of where I ate lunch, but my camera batteries had died (another thing to add to the pre-flight checklist).

Just because my sightseeing is done at 45-75 mph, does not mean that it doesn't have value. When I think about the number of times I have driven my car somewhere and don't remember anything about the scenery, my "rides" win hands down. Whether it is the shading from the large pines on I-64, the open fields on US-360, or the two lane roads on US-3, I've seen more of Virginia astride my bike than I ever remember from behind the wheel of my car.

When I'm in the car, it is generally because I'm going somewhere (point A to point B). I take the shortest and quickest route that eats up as little time as possible. If I'd been in my car on Friday, I wouldn't have been on US-3 (much less stopping at Kilmarnock's "Alley Cafe" for lunch). So in regard to memories, I've got a few.

Now how do I answer that other question - "How was your ride?" My typical response is something like, "It was nice, there wasn't much traffic and the weather was good". Since my wife doesn't ride (other than short trips), it is difficult to explain the pleasure I get from the wind beating against my body, the vibration of the bike working it way up my arms from the handlebars, the control I feel from just swaying the bike from one lane to another, the sense of pride in being able to judge traffic and maneuver through it, or that childish delight at being able to shout into the wind at the top of my lungs, "LOOK OUT WORLD HERE I COME."

Despite my inarticulate responses, my wife seems to understand that I'm having a good time and I still appreciate my birthday present. I guess that's what they mean about being "Simpatico."

So, where did I go? I WENT FOR A RIDE!
And, how was the ride? IT WAS GREAT!

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