I thought a lot about Guy Ride 2000 on the long ride home last Thursday
from Brevard to Smyrna. I
thought about the places we went and the things we did as I tried to put
my finger on what it was that made this week so special.
There were some
obvious things, like the awe inspiring beauty of the Blue Ridge Mountains,
and the wonderful people of the rural South who made our trip such a joy.
There was also the freedom of being away from home with a bunch of
guys, which meant that no one had to shave or watch their manners.
Of course the fact that we were away from work in and of itself
made for a pretty good week! We
all made new friends and the strengthened old ties.
There was even the drama of watching new family in the making,
which reminded us all how blessed we are to have our the wives and
families we have.
As Ricky, Rooster,
and I rode on toward Nashville, I felt that sense of peace and well being
that I had felt so many times during the past week settle over me again.
As I basked in the warmth of the mid-day sun and these feelings, I
began to realize that there were other, less tangible things that made
this trip such a freeing experience.
Here had been a
chance to be more who we really are than we can be in our day to day
world. Dress shirts and ties
are not things we decide to wear, but things mandated by our society.
Jeans and T-shirts and bandannas and leather jackets are things we
chose to wear because they reflect what we feel inside.
Here had been a
chance to be a bit of an exhibitionist; to fulfill that desire we all have
to be seen and heard – and we were definitely seen and heard wherever we
went! Paradoxically, this
trip was also a time for some inward reflection, for even though we rode
together in a loud and visible group, we were each alone with our thoughts
as we thundered through the Southland.
Somewhere around
Dayton, TN, it dawned on me how totally relaxed I was.
Stress comes from dwelling on the past, or worrying about the
future, but when you ride a motorcycle through Deal’s Gap, or Neel’s
gap, or down the Blue Ridge Parkway, you are forced to live in the present
moment. There’s no time to
reminisce about the past, and your future extends only to the next curve
in the road. Think past that
next turn, and you’ll have no future.
I believe it is this exhilarating sense of living in the present
moment that makes a motorcycle trip through the mountains so
extraordinary. Never do you
feel so alive as when you live totally in the present.
This feeling clears your mind and stays with you for a while after
the ride is over - and it calls you to the next ride.
Far too soon,
Ricky, Rooster and I approached Murfreesboro and we all knew the ride was
drawing to a close. A week of riding seems like such a lot of time when you are
looking forward to it….…… As
I waved goodbye to Ricky and Rooster and headed for my house, a smile
spread across my face as I flashed back to a scene in North Carolina that
pretty well sums it all up.
Pappy Pipes is
relaxing on the porch of a country store, a bologna sandwich in one hand,
a Coke in the other, and he proclaims,
“This must be Heaven!”
I couldn’t have
said it better myself.
- Toothpick