There are some days when you get on your motorcycle and as you sit, you feel a ‘click,’ a noticeable change and you settle down, lean forward, put your hands on the grips and start the bike. Kickstand up, roll throttle slowly on, feet up and off you go. The road rolls under you in a comfortable rhythm and a peace settles in; all is right with your world.
I am tired. Physically pooped. Running around Friday evening, staying up way past my bedtime and not getting near enough sleep to feel recuperated in the slightest Saturday morning did not make me want to do anything except lie around and watch movies all day..
Coffee does not break through the morning haze.
But it’s time to ride.
Jacket on, helmet in hand, keys.
Pack the tank bag and make sure water is in there.
It’s 10° above normal at a painful 107° and a day of motoring around greater Phoenix-land is planned.
By the time I get to my friend’s garage, I’m sticking to my perf jacket. I peel myself out of my gear and set it on the bike, hoping that the jacket will protect the seat from getting to that ass-burning temperature.
But no time for socializing! It’s kickstands up and off we go!
The event is rather uneventful. I sit on some shiny bikes, drool over the newest latest and greatest, fall in love three or four times. We leave to return to the garage and tend to a misbehaving front brake.
Sorry about your front brake! See you soon!
And then there were three.
Have a good dinner! See you soon!
And then there were two.
And the two are off for a late afternoon Bartlett Lake ride.
Two worn out riders make their way through the desert heat to meet an Irishman.
The Bartlett Lake ride is quite nice. Full of long sweepers, with some slower corners and a lot of shrubbery trying to confuse you at corner apexes. Unfortunately, we have an escort for much of the ride, so are forced to behave like responsible adults. The ride through the hills is lovely with the saguaro standing at attention on the hillsides. We park at the boat launch and sit for some time at the lake edge. The water is still warm enough for a swim and there are campers with tents and a fire enjoying the early evening.
With nightfall approaching, we straddle our bikes once again and head back through the mountains.
The sun is just settling below the horizon and as we ride the sky changes from robin’s egg blue to pastel shades of pinks and purples and oranges and yellows. The saguaros and mesquites are silhouetted against the twilight sky.
We ride smoothly on.
And all is right with the world.