When God closes a door he often opens a window.

     As the snow sets down in Michigan and makes Detroit seem new and clean, I count the days to when I can get back up and ride.

     My last ride of the season was Toy's for Tot's, December 14th and I didn’t even get to ride my own, I rode on the back of my best friend’s bike and allowed his brother-in-law to ride mine. To some that may seem a little strange, some may say that no one rides their bike but them. I don’t see it like that; I don’t mind sharing like that when it comes to making someone else’s day. 

     If I am honest about it, I really didn't mind.  The night before I was forced to go to a farewell party for myself, where I had one big problem.  I couldn't seem to find the end of the drinks that SOME PEOPLE, ....we won't mention names here....THEY know who they are .... kept buying and putting in front of me.  Needless to say, I was pretty tore up, from the floor up. 

     I spent the night at my best friends house.  Settling in to the recliners to sleep in the living room, we chatted and laughed until around 2 in the morning and yet I didn't regret it, even when we had to get up the un-Godly hour of 6 am.

     Laughter and friendship like that is rare and I would gladly give up precious sleep just to spend a few hours with good conversation and great laughs.

     It’s often said that if you want to find someone, stop looking. I am here to tell you that in not looking for someone, I found even more. I found a best friend when I wasn’t looking. He and his family allowed me access into their hearts and home. They allowed someone that was almost a complete stranger to spend a few hours away from my small one bedroom hotel room where the stark white walls would sometimes feel as if they were staring back at me. I was allowed to feel useful. I was allowed to feel needed. I was allowed to feel the love of a family other than my own. I chose a road that wasn’t on my map and I never expected to find the ride of a life time. I hope the view is always this beautiful.
     The Toy's for Tot's ride was pretty awesome, about 800 bikes riding all around Texarkana, clogging up the streets, causing traffic jams, having permission to run red lights and I didn’t have to stop to take pictures, I got to take all the pictures I wanted AND even some video.
      The bike was loaded onto the trailer a few days later with care just before Christmas. I said my good-byes, cried my tears, and resolved that this would not be the end of my southern adventure. I may not make my permanent home that far south but I am not finished trying to get out of the north and back to the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line.  

     Even though I am so far away from the warm weather where I can ride, I find solace in the fact that I have so many friends and extended family that I can count on and that I love with all my heart. I know I could jump on my bike and show up at their doorstep looking for shelter; doors and arms would be flung open, inviting me in.

Thankful

     The weekend is here again and originally I was going to stick close to “home” and ride around with a buddy of mine but he informed me on Thursday that he had things to do around town so he wouldn’t be able to go but we were still going to meet for Friday morning breakfast.

     On Friday morning I wake up to early, as usual, and quickly decide that even if he can’t go it isn’t going to stop me from a little Adventuring, so I pack a bag up and throw it on the back of my bike with Crazy Cow in tow.

     It is great breakfast, the four of us indulge in some lively conversation and as usual it is chalked full buddy talk.  I call it buddy talk because it is three guys and one female and there is "no holds barred".  My guy friends know that I can be trusted with whatever is said.  I am not a girlie girl and I do not get offended easily, so the jokes can get pretty crude.  I have been known to become embarrased and blush on occasion but I take the ribbing and I can ususally turn it back on them.  Since I work mostly with guys, I find it important that they don't see me as an outsider, as a female, as a weaker person.

     Breakfast being over, I listen to them all tell me to be careful as I get ready to head out on the bike alone. I check the radar on my smart phone, which is still smarter than me because I am still finding things amazing that it does that I didn’t KNOW it did.   Come on, admit it, you didn’t read the 200 page instruction book either.  

      I originally planned on going north towards Eureka Springs but the weather looks to be a bit chilly so south is the direction I choose.

      I cruise until I need gas and find myself in Natchitoches, LA.  The sign pointing towards town says Historic Downtown.  Hmmmm, just HOW historic, it is, I find out, it is the OLDEST city in Louisiana at 300 years old.  Downtown is beautiful with a hint of New Orleans only condensed with brick paved streets, on the banks of the Cane River Lake, and plenty of little shops.  The kicker to stopping in this little town by chance it that it is the site of the movie Steel Magnolias.
     This movie spoke to me so much that I named my daughter Shelby in honor of it.  The strength of these women, the fortitude, the courage to face life and death as one, it is a tribute to our resilience.  We may be lead, too often in my opinion, by the men in our lives but in actuality we are the backbone and the might of the family.

     After an hour or so of just walking around and site seeing, I find something for lunch and then carry on down the road.

     In a few hours I am in Lafayette in what is their version of rush hour traffic when suddenly, to my horror, I feel the backpack slip off my backrest and on to the main road.  Out of the corner of my eye I can see a white blur, Crazy Cow, tumbling.  Dear God, I have killed the Cow!  Traffic slows and I am able to pull over just in time to see some gentleman in a Ford Excursion getting back into his vehicle with my bag.  I have lived too long in the Detroit area because my first thought was, this guys going to steal my stuff!  But he doesn’t, he slows down as I am walking next to the road and hands me my bag and Crazy Cow.  I have just enough time to thank him and let him know much that stupid cow means to me before he drives off.  All that stuff in my back pack could have been replaced for only a couple hundred bucks but Crazy Cow has been with me for 10 years or more.  He is irreplaceable and yet he really isn't.  I am just very sentimental about this stupid cow.
     Crazy Cow was given to my son when he was in junior high.  Just a few short years later he is off to the finishing school, then in the Marine Corps, and getting deployed to Iraq.  I missed him something awful and my daughter and I would substitute his presence with the cow.  We would take pictures of him with us on our many aventures and I would make a power point presentation to send to him wherever he was.  This way he was with us, if only in spirit. 

     Too many times in our life we see people crying over stuff, having lost everything, when they have the one thing that is irreplaceable, one another.  I try so hard to see all that I have that cannot be replaced, my children, my grandbabies, the love of my family and friends.  I could lose every material thing I posses, be living out of a box and still thank God for the people he has put in my life.

     It’s getting late but before I make my way to the camp ground that I have chosen for the night I need to find something to eat.  When choosing an eating establishment I stay away from the chain restaurants and try to find something with local flair.  I settle on Don’s Seafood & Steak House. 
     Sitting at the bar, I already know, I am going to try their Crawfish Bisque.  Crawfish are not in season but I LOVE crawfish and will try almost any recipe with them as a main ingredient.   It is not long before a couple sits down close to me and we strike up a lively conversation about bikes, people, life, and adventuring.  I tell them a little about my adventuring and I tell them that I am going to be camping for the night at a local camp ground.  The gentleman, whom I fail to get a name from, tells his wife how concerned he is that I am on my own.  What a treasure to have total strangers, concerned for my safety.

     Isn’t this what it is all about, to become intertwined, and to care for one another?  Being a single female out on my own, I do get a lot of that.  So many times when I pull into an establishment with my out of state plates alone, people ask me out right, aren’t you scared?  Why should I be?  I am always His tool and I relish each day he gives me.

     I know, and I hope my family and loved ones know, that if something ever were to happen to me on my bike, at least I went doing the one thing that has made me the happiest I have been in many years.