Where's the Muse?
By
g.d.h.

June 29^th, 2006

muse@bikerenews.com

The Muse in his backyard...

Last week I looked on my favorite website and saw that one of my favorite writers had been missing for over three months. My first reaction was, "Say it ain't so Joe." However, look as hard as I might, I couldn't find anything by the Muse on the Biker eNews website since March 20.

How could this be? Something terrible must have happened to the boy. Before I called the police to find out what they were doing about the missing Muse, I decided to see if I could get any leads from his family. After getting no response by knocking on the Muse's front door, I walked around to his backyard. To my surprise, I found the Muse sitting on his deck. As I approached, he was clammy and pale. I could see that he was trembling in his chair. He was slumped over with his head in his hands muttering to himself. Getting closer, I could hear his grabbled sounds, "When, when will I ride again."

I tapped him on the shoulder and as he turned to look at me with tears in his eyes, I could tell immediately that he was suffering from MCWS (Motorcycle Withdrawal Syndrome). I asked him, what had happened and how did he get this way. He looked at me straight in the eyes gave his one word response, "Life."

RM2 Houglan 1944

The Muse went on to tell me that between work, house problems, and family obligations he had only made one day ride, and one two-day ride since March. He had tried to schedule more riding time, but with each eagerly awaited trip, Life had thrown him a knuckle ball every time.

Trying to lift his spirits, I asked him about his two-day trip. A far away look came over his face, like he was reliving a distant memory. He explained to me that back in June, he had decided to go visit his father in North Carolina. Using this as an excuse, he climbed aboard his trusted purple friend and headed west on US-58. Feeling the freedom of the open road, he only had one decision to make, whether to travel to Greensboro, NC by taking I-85 at South Hill, or to continue on US-58 to Danville, and taking US-29 South to Greensboro.

The Muse has a fondness for US-58 and has come to find less pleasure in the Interstate Speedways, so he continued west on US-58. It took him about five hours to get to Greensboro. He wasn't ready to stop, but that was his destination. He was able to spend the evening with his father and brother, which hadn't happened as much as it should in the recent past. It was a chance to celebrate an early Father's Day with this 80-year-old World War II veteran. (Happy Father's Day)

The next morning, the Muse had wanted to ride US-158 all the way back to eastern NC, but thunder storms were threatening. So, he headed back up US-29 to US-58 and rode it all the way back to Virginia Beach. Juiced up on this 540-mile trip, the Muse knew riding season was open and he was ready for it.

The smile faded from his face and he muttered, "Life." I understood. That trip to NC had been the last time the Muse had been on his bike. He had all the tell-tail signs of a starving rider. His hands didn't have the curved shape of hands on handlebars. His legs were straight without any evidence of being bowlegged. His face didn't have the wind-chapped redness. Sadly, he looked like a typical cage driver.

I asked him where his family was, and he said out of town. "So you're free for the weekend," I asked. He nodded. I asked him if he realized there was a four-day weekend coming up. He looked up like a child hoping to see Tinker Bell. "Do you think I can," he asked. I smiled and told him there were Rest Areas calling his name. He got out of his lawn chair and slowly hobbled to his garage. He walked cautiously to his bike and began to wipe off the dust that was weighing down both the bike and his spirit. I left knowing he was on the road to recovery. As I turned to walk away, I could hear him saying, "Soon my precious, soon." I knew I'd be reading a new adventure from the "Lord of the Wheels," very soon.

Everyone wants to be a biker

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