To Hell and Back, Not Such a Bad Trip

Sunday the 26th of April was the Blessing of the Bikes in Macomb County Michigan and symbolizes the official start of the bike riding season.  To show our support, my Veterans association is always heavily involved.  This year there was almost 3000 bikes at the event.  I enjoy going mostly because I get to see some of our riders that don’t normally come around because they live quite a distance away, but this is the event that our Veterans club riders make a serious effort to come out to.  It is, actually, one of the only events where you will see so many different vests from so many different clubs.  Some reputable, some not so much but they all get along.  In the three years I have been going, I cannot recall one incident.

It is official now, it is Bike Season in Michigan.

In Texas, it has been Bike Season for a couple months now, in fact, I now have a bike down there that I can use when I do go down.  Although I have been down there to enjoy it several times, it’s just not enough for me and when I would come back North I missed riding.  So far this year, I have been down to Texas six times.  I am actually actively looking for a job that will transfer me down there permanently but until then I just have to be content with a weekend or a week here and there.

This weekend was the first one of the year that I was able to really get out and ride up in Michigan.  On Friday I made one of my favorite local rides, I rode to Hell, Michigan.

Hell is a fairly popular biker destination with wonderful winding roads and beautiful views.  The town has an Ice Cream Shop, a Tavern, a small shop, and a putt-putt golf.  The whole towns theme is circled around Halloween and they make quite a business out of it but Hell has a special meaning for me for other reasons.  Hell was the first trip on my own outside of my comfort zone after my husband had moved out.

Most all of my riding prior to that had been with a group or with just him and me.  I never really had to know how to get from point A to point B because I never led, I always followed so I didn’t bother to pay attention to what rode we were on, what direction we were going, or any other pertinent information.  So riding alone felt strange and I wasn’t really comfortable doing it.   Don’t misunderstand me, I can read a map and I can find my way around but there were some areas in the local area that I was extremely unfamiliar with and Hell was one of those areas.  

I remember that day pretty well and my feelings of determination, deciding that I was going to make the trip alone.  I wasn’t going to wait for someone to go with me if I wanted to go, why wait.  I think it was the start of finding me and who I was without someone next to me constantly to guide me or to decide for me.  

Hell laid the frame work for my first real Adventuring later that summer, when I went up and around the upper peninsula of Michigan, into Wisconsin, and around to Illinois, Indiana and back to Michigan.  It was a 1500 mile, four day trip, and I did it on my own.  On that trip I did a couple of things I had wanted to do for years; I went to the Harley Davidson Museum in Milwaukee, Copper Harbor, MI, the most northern point in Michigan, I visited some very good friends in Osh Kosh, and I began to enjoy being alone.  I found, on that trip that I got to stop when I wanted, for how long, and where I wanted.  It was a lonely trip and I remember wishing to have someone riding next to me to enjoy it with me but I was determined not to sit around and wait for that someone.  Just maybe I’d find that someone while I was out on my own.

Learning to be alone is an art, I feel.  It’s being able to know your limits and being able to step outside your comfort zone a little when needed.  Trusting that what you want may not be what God has planned for you.  To acknowledge and understand that wanting someone is so much more different than needing someone.  It takes time too.  It took me almost two years after the separation to learn to be more than just ok with being alone as much as I am and there are days when I am more ok than others.

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. 

 

Boredom?

 

     I keep wondering when I am going to get bored with riding around. 
    A few Friday's ago I went to breakfast and no one was there. Bummer.  So I eat alone, played a game on my phone, drank a couple cups of coffee and just enjoyed watching the people.
   After a while, I pay my bill, and leave. Getting on my bike, I had originally decided that I was going to go back to the apartment and relax for the day, but I just couldn’t do it. That bike turned all by itself north on highway 8 and soon I am in Oklahoma.
     Many weeks back I was in Mena, Arkansas at a bike shop and had a chance meeting with a gentleman named, Jim. He showed me a road in Oklahoma, promised me a beautiful ride, and I decided to find it.
     Oklahoma is full of dirt roads, so there was no chance of my bobbing and weaving until I find the right road, like I normally do. So I give in and look on my smart phone and get a general direction. I didn’t do too badly since I found it on the first try.
     It starts on the edges of the Ouachita National Forest as a pretty straight road full of hills but after I crossed OK144 and entered the spot on the map named Honobia, Oklahoma it became the road that Jim had promised.
     I blink and leave Honobia. Just a quarter mile outside town there is a sign to warn people of the dangers of the road ahead. For me all it did was to get my adrenalin flowing.
     For the next 15 miles there are hills, twists, turns, and views. The leaves are changing and it is so hard to keep my eyes on the road but I manage.  My bike and I take each curve and corner as one as we traversed over the Kiamichi Mountains heading towards US 257 and Talihina, OK. It was such a wonderful ride that I turned around and did again.
     After 14,000 miles I have become very comfortable and yet I can still be overly cautious when I am riding on gravel or making a tight U-turn because if she goes over and I am alone I could be in some serious trouble. I can pick her up but I am not sure I could if she is on an incline. I have dropped her twice on gravel and on an incline and was unable to lift her by myself because I couldn’t get a firm footing.
     At the end of my return over the mountain, I stopped in Honobia for a tush-break and an ice  cream that I shared with one of the local residents that just sits outside the store to greet visitors.
     The town of Honobia has a general store and an RV park...that is it. The town does tote two VERY interesting things, one of its residents is said to be Bigfoot and its residents are extremely proud of their fishing prowess. They celebrate Bigfoot every year with a festival in early October and their fishing prowess is shown by hanging the heads of their catch on fences lining the road. I just saw the fish heads and thought they were baiting Bigfoot.
     The ride and the views on this little road were magnificent and I thank God for such beauty and that I am capable to make these trips. With each turn, twist, curve, and crest of the hill I realize why I haven't begun to become bored with riding. I am at peace on the road and yet I want one thing...all of my riding buddies to see what I see. I want them all to see the view from my bike.

     Don’t get me wrong, someday I want to be with someone, to spend my nights, my days, my rides…all with someone but until that someone comes along, I need to be content with what I have.

     I guess I am old fashioned.  I just cannot bring myself to have someone that is just an “FB”; I want to be with one person for the rest of my life.  Not just for a couple hours.  I am going to want to build a relationship, a life, a home with one man.

     With a “FB” my biggest fear would be that one of us is going to like the other one way more, that feelings and hearts are going to get hurt.  I also don’t share well with others.  

      Relationships are hard.  Trust me, I get that.   But if you don’t ever try to make a relationship, you never reap the rewards of a relationship either.  I love being able to finish sentences, knowing what he is going to ask before he asks it, finding the perfect thing for his lunches, singing songs out loud and out of tune to one another,  and mostly I want to go out adventuring with my special man.   I don’t think you can do these things with a part-time FB.  I don’t know of one couple that has stated, “oh yeah, we were FB’s and then decided to make it a more permanent thing.”

     Where is the romance in, “hey, ya wanna tonight?”  

     Where is the future in, “Yeah, thanks.  Good time.  I’ll call ya.  Bye.”

      After I figured out it was over between my husband and I, I did have one serious relationship that was on and off again for two years.  I think ultimately we just saw life differently.  He was a great guy and I will always carry a piece of him in my heart but I like life half full and I feel he saw it as damn near empty.  I felt that I need time for me, to do what I want, when I want, where I want, with whom I want, how I want.

       I don’t know if I ever really had that in my marriage.  We would talk about my doing something and usually the answer was no and then he would come back a little later and tell me that I could. There were a few things that I wanted to do that he flat out said no to because he didn’t feel that it was the best for the family.  In guy terms, that means that he saw it as too much work on him.      Twice I approached the subject of my going back into the Air Force.  Once during Desert Storm and again five years later after her retired from the Army but if I had done that he may have found himself on the other side of a deployment.  Having to stay home and take care of the kids and I don’t think that he got married to be a single parent.

      My babies are grown now and off starting their own families.  I am lucky enough to live, almost perfectly, smack dab in the middle of them.  My daughter is 12 hours west and my son is 14 hours east.  I believe that family is important, it’s more important than my own personal wants and desires. For 24 years I put them first and I will continue to do so, within reason.  I did drive 14 hours after my daughter-in-law went into labor with my first grandbaby because I could and I will do the same for my daughter if I can.  Here is the kicker; I am not going to interfere in their lives.  They need to discover what works for them not what I think works for them.  If they want my opinion, they can ask for it and they know that they can call me any time of day or night.

     With that in mind, I need to find what makes me happy now.  I need to find my personal heaven…and so I ride and love the view from my bike.

      I am 48 years old and I have never lived on my own, at least not for a long period of time, say more than 6 months. At 45 I found myself alone with my children grown and my husband of 24 years going down his own road, a choice that didn’t much make sense to me but never the less it was of his own doing.  His road, I am sure that he will find, is a dead end with no way to turn around.  The roads in front of me, however, are full of endless possibilities.

     This weekend I found myself adventuring across Texas…ALL the way across and even up into New Mexico.  View upon view.  Some were phenomenal and some were eye opening as we use the land to fuel possibilities.

     I found that central Texas, known for its oil drilling, wasn’t as pretty as my part of East Texas and West Texas, known for its sparse desert landscape had a beauty all its own.  Being the largest state in the continental US, Texas has one commonality, its people.

     I think it is a southern thing in general. People are friendlier.  The younger ones use words like Ma’am and Sir.  The older ones use darlin’, sweetheart, and lady.  Making eye contact almost guarantees a conversation will be struck up and just getting a cup of coffee means you’ll be sitting with a local and shooting the breeze for a spell.  

     A woman alone on a big yellow Harley is a great conversation starter and although I normally am not one that seeks out attention I am becoming comfortable enough with myself that it no longer bothers me when the questions start.  Questions like, "Is that your bike?" "Aren't you afraid to be riding by yourself?".  Then there are the comments.  My favorite and the one I get the most is, "Nice bike."  Yes, she is a beautiful bike and I love the color.

     Slowing down once in a while is a good thing. You meet people, intertwine with their lives, and narrow that 6 degrees of separation a little more. It opens your eyes, heart and mind to hear and see the way some people are, how different and how a like.

    All in all I realize that I may be on my own but ultimately I am never really alone, I have friends everywhere.  Some of them I haven't met yet and THAT is the adventure.

The Adventure Begins...

   To say that I am addicted to riding is an understatement but you have to understand where that need and desire to ride comes from.
   After 24 years of marriage, two kids, two countries, eight homes, and two states I found my husband deciding he wanted to go somewhere else and I wasn't invited.  I was devastated, to say the least.  He was my family in a state 2400 miles away from where I grew up, we had had been one another's best friend, therapist, lover, care taker, and so many other titles and now what. What was I supposed to do on my own?  Where was I supposed to go?  Who was going to hold me at night? Who was I going to ride with?  Our son was living in North Carolina, finishing up his last year as a Marine. Our daughter turned 18 and couldn't handle living at home without her family and she moved out to her boyfriends which made me feel even more alone.
   I reached out to people that, for the most part, had been only acquaintances, and they encouraged me to join them and the Veterans Riders group they belonged to.  I found a group of people that I had a lot in common with and, even better, I found a new home and family with them.   I was quickly embraced as one of their own and found new reasons to ride.   There were charities, poker rides, parades, bike nights, and just "because we can" rides.  I started a women's rider group where it was just us ladies cutting loose and riding out for lunches.
   Seven months after our divorce was final, I rented a condo.  I was 47 years old and I had just rented my first place entirely my own and I was scared out of my mind.  I remember very clearly sitting alone one night, feeling very sorry for myself, when I was hit with the realization that I wasn't really alone.  I had so many numbers in my phone of friends that I could call and they would have showed up, talked with me until the wee hours of the night or joined me at any local place for conversation, just to make me feel better.  I was truly blessed by the hand of God. I lost something that had meant the world to me, something that I thought I could never live without, and He gave me something greater.  He gave me something that would never leave me, friendship.    The first few weeks and maybe a few months in my own place were hard but I finally started to enjoy it. I decorated the way I wanted.  I watched what I wanted.  I cooked when and what I wanted.  I did dishes when I wanted.  I went to bed when I wanted. It was a LOT of freedom and I really started to enjoy it.
   Work had been so slow and they asked me if I wanted to learn this computer system that tracked maintenance and parts.  I welcomed the chance to be getting something done and learn something new but no good deed goes unpunished.  Six months after I got my own place, I was told that I was needed in Texas to start inputting maintenance data at one of our sites.  A month later, all of my household goods were stuffed in a 10x10 storage unit, my little truck was packed with enough clothes and personal items to last me six months, Crazy Cow, my son's stuffed cow from sixth grade, was in the seat next to me, and my bike was loaded onto a U-haul trailer being pulled behind.  Once again, I was scared out of my mind.  

   I was leaving my friends, my first home on my own, the comfort of all that I knew for a place I had only visited once for two days four years ago. I knew almost no one and there wasn't a Veterans club like mine close by. I found myself forcing long hard deep breaths to keep calm.
  I was driving over 1000 miles with my life in storage and the most costly thing I had ever bought on my own being towed behind my truck. God, I prayed, please let me get there safe. He did.
   I had made arrangements at a long term hotel that wouldn't break the bank and gave me the safety of not being alone.  The hotel staff was a God send and I was quickly shown the true meaning southern hospitality when their Maintenance man helped me unload my bike and the receptionist got me a room on the first floor as I requested so that I could park my bike right by my window at night.  We chatted about the color...my favorite color...yellow and it was then that I decided that this was going to be an adventure.
   Work runs a little different down here.  The shop ran four days a week, 10 hour days, so you had a three day weekend, every weekend.  What a way to go!
    It was hot that July but I never let that stop me.  I didn't care that I had swamp butt whenever I got off, it would dry and I kept the room at the hotel at a bone chilling 67 degrees so that I would quickly cool down as soon as I got back.
   I quickly noticed how different the roads were down here from up north.  Up north, you had to be careful because the road may start out as pavement but it may dump you into a dirt road after a few miles.  I hadn't run into that issue down here.  If the road had a number attached to it and it started out as pavement, it ended the same way.  

   I rode that first weekend into Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Louisiana, my bike ate up the roads and I put on 200, then 500 and then 750 miles under me. The odometer just turned the miles away each weekend; I was usually putting on at least 700 miles. My music would play, I would sing along as loud as I wanted not caring who would hear, I'd watch the trees as they passed by, whistle at the horses, take mental pictures of the hills and valleys and all the while marvel at the beauty of God's creation. The view from my bike was phenomenal, breath taking, and a miracle that only He could give us. I wished everyone had had the opportunity to see the beauty that I did.
Something inside of me began to change. I could feel it. At first I wasn't too sure what it was, it took some time to figure it out. I was independent. I had found my independence. Throughout the divorce and since I had been wondering who was going to ride with me, who was going to hold me at night, who was going to be with me and all the while I had the answer right in front of me....myself.  

     God didn't make me to be a woman that needed just anyone. He made me self-sufficient, independent, strong, bold, and He made me to trust in Him. I may WANT someone to be beside me, to hold my hand, and to spend my days and nights with but until He brings that one person into my life, I am good with what I have got right now..ME!