Part two; and “The Ride”

On one particular night following I was again out for a ride. I seriously thought about stopping by my friend’s home to see if he wanted to go for one of our rides. For some unknown reason I decided against it alone time was needed. I headed out, just me, Lizzie the bike and the road to wherever I wanted. That night, I stopped on the road edge in a beautiful area kicked her into neutral and shut down.


There I watched Buffalo grazing in a grass covered field.
I saw ground Squirrels scampering around eating blue bell flowers.
I listened to a young Coyote pack yip and howl in the distance of a nearby isolated canyon.


Yes, solitude and the moment was just what was needed to sort things out for myself once again. Truly our adventures are found in the journey, not the destination. I’m coming to understand that in so many ways these days. The next day I saw my friend and told him I had nearly stopped by to collect him the night before. I was going to tell him of the Coyotes, Squirrels and Buffalo. But it was then that I noticed the sparkle was gone. My first thought was; oh no, you wrecked it? No, he said then he related the following tale.


On the very afternoon I had taken my solo ride, he too had ridden his Texas bike to work, he was told that the water was out at their home, so my friend came home and parked his bike in the driveway. Being a maintenance man by trade he went straight to work locating the cause of the lack of water. He soon found that a valve had been turned off in the back yard. But while he searched for the cause, his bride had a pressing appointment and she was needing to leave right away. She hopped into her car parked in the garage and backed out of the garage and straight over the top of the Texas Bike. “Yikes”, I thought!!!


My heart sank as he told the tale. After which I asked; how bad did it get hurt? With as much courage as he could muster he described the damage; scraped pipes, bent handlebars and damaged grips. Following his description; all in all I thought; that’s not bad! I said,” no worries my friend you can have that fixed in a jiffy and while you are at it, why don’t you have the shop adjust your clutch for better friction zone and front brakes for better balance control. Let me know when you get it back and we’ll take that ride.”

I felt a twinge of real sorrow for his little bride, the one who gave her best friend  the most awesome gift and then to have also accidentally and temporarily taken it back. Her pain was evident by the blood shot eyes from obvious tears she had shed at the thought of damaging her best friend’s prize gift. Despite this small set back, my friend was back on track, he had a repair plan and without doubt would have that bike in top shape in short order.

Last weekend after several weeks of hearing of the repair progress, my friend and I took our first of what I hope to be many rides on our motors. We rode out into the Uintah Basin over Wolf Creek Pass to a little known hamburger joint for lunch. When I arrived at their home, it was nice to see the smile on his brides face at knowing her best friend was about to start a new adventure that she had intended for him some months before.

Now we all should know and recognize that the destination and lunch we planned that day were simply the excuse. The real purpose was the adventure and the ride. I lead out because I had been in the area many times before and had a pretty good idea where this tucked away hamburger place was to be found. In fact another friend of mine had told me of it and gave great directions to find it. As I lead I could see him in the rear view mirrors cruising along behind holding distance and line off set to the right side just where he should be. We blew past the normal restaurants along the route that most bike rider’s use off US 40 and back over Wolfe Creek Pass. We continued through small towns, seeing the beautiful farm houses, large expanses of alfalfa with pivot wheel sprinklers running, rugged landscapes of large solid boulders on the road side that were bigger than most cars and passing only the occasional resident or farm implement. The two lane road seemed to stretch forever out into the Uintah Basin and secretly I was hoping that it would.
As we rode my senses, well they came very much alive. Those of feel, of smell, of sight, the sound and something else located deep inside. Truly, the adventure is found in the journey!

A change in temperature as we climbed higher, rode through the mountain pass and descend the other side.
A smell on the wind, of water being sprayed on welcoming crops within a parched dry land.
Of freshly cut alfalfa still drying down in the field.
A mountain meadow covered in wild flower and the damp aroma of cattail growing beside.
Pine trees mixing with Aspen in the cool summer air.



I stopped only once at an intersection where my friend pulled up alongside to my right. I looked at him and saw a face with a huge smile, a grand sparkle in his eyes, a man full of near contentment. I say near contentment because I know that for him it could be one step closer to perfect if only his bride had been snuggled up behind and along for the ride.

He said; “Wow, this is beautiful country out here!” I replied; “yes it’s rugged and rough, but beautiful in its very own way.” This is the America I’d like to remember in my mind’s eye as I continue to grow older. Now please take notice as I have done, my memory is one from the seat of a motor, her pipes sounding off while rolling on power across our beautiful land!!!

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