The Rat and Friend's road story's and rants..bikes, rides, roads, eats, place to go and places to stay..Bikes damn it..
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Roller Coasters, Stress and the Wind....
Sort of a blurry picture seems to fit..Been on a roller coaster...been at the limits of stress and frustration..self inflicted to an extent,,added to by outside forces..All work and no play tends to make the Rat edgy..A common simple goal has become a quest..the closer it get the bigger the road blocks seems to be..I need a cure..
Now assholes and dumb fucks are a fact of daily life..For the most part you learn how to avoid them, play them or work them to your advantage..But there are times when you can be overwhelmed by them and it causes stress..The kind of stress you need to work through..find relief..I have a few cures that work well, like blasting watermelons with a shotgun...Double tapping Bin Laden pictures with a .45..ya there might be other pictures that work but we don't need to go there..we need Ride..
Laying in bed, head humming..can't relax and know sleep will never come..simple goal..became so complex..I roared all day at the wrong people because of it..Now laying here it's all soaking in..I need relief..Shotguns, hand guns and long guns are out of the question..I get up..pull on my riding boots..No certain plan..just search for the cure..find peace in the wind...
The old Shovel roars to life..all these years together it seems to know when to behave..we roll..dark and warm for November..as we roll through town a direction I never go..a ride I never make..a road I never take..as the lights fade in my mirrors I crank back the throttle..damn if they could only put this feeling in a bottle..
Now some day's the cure means you have to go fast...riding like hell, escaping your past..Sometimes it means riding mellow and slow..releasing your mind just letting it go..each ride is different..meaning the same..all to escape life and its' little screwed up game..
Got no where to go, no place to be..just me and my Harley riding to be free..the wind washes through me with it's crisp autumn breeze...me and the wind, road and the shadows of tree's..The roar of the pipes fills the air....leaving me smiling and without a care..time passes without effort..life becomes right as I crank back my throttle and wonder into the night..soaked in the light of the moon and the stars..I grab me a gear and pass me some cars..
The amazing feel of freedom...The cure from the road...I drop down the throttle, kick down a gear..The pipes at an idle is all that I hear..