Today, a long awaited day from a week of waiting for a fairly warm, slightly breezy sunny day. I got my new helmet yesterday and prepared for the ride, fitting my boots, picking out the perfect long sleeve shirt, and finally preparing the bike. I started my moped up and ran, I didn't forget to turn on the petcock or the on button. Really it was a perfect day for riding, except some dicks in cages but I'll get into that later.
My routes are pretty easy, I'm not into interrupting the rat racers on busy roads or holding up granny who can barely make out the white line of the road. I enjoy the side roads that are rarely traveled, lately I've been noticing the flooding going on in our area, some of it in my room but mostly on the side of the road. The swollen bodies of water running along the road remind me pictures of Europe's canals, some from Holland and others of the France's Burgundy country, ok maybe not really like them but the ditches looked like they were full of life. Its not only the scenery but the colors, blossoms just forming on the branches of trees in the distance, grass turning from the dull winter green to a livelier emerald. The sights, sounds, and smells of the farmland are awesome!
I drove the back roads to Dorr, MI and then from there to where I work near downtown Grandville. I rather enjoyed the flat lands south of Byron Center and then the hillier roads just going north of 84th St. on Kenowa. I could just zip down hills making my speedometer max out at the 40mph mark make it bounce. It was a ride to remember, the sun, the birds, the ducks landing in the flooded parts. Nothing more beautiful could happen today in nature.
Yet beside me on the road lay the common scourge of the pavement, those people who drive 4 wheeled cages who disregard there freedom for a more fast paced world that will never be able to be caught, if man ever did catch up to the world it would probably just watch the world and race back home to slow down and order pizza. Just to continue our perpetual race of nothingness for the almighty dollar so they can stuff themselves with sub-par food made on a assembly line. Yet among those are those fast paced idiots who endanger all who travel on the black pavement, life is almost meaningless to them, they drive because they haven't any concept on how to drive, how to be patient, how to enjoy the ride. I ran into these people on several occasions, approaching a stop sign a cager decided to pass me while some one at the four way stop was turning and becoming on coming traffic. Yet again when going up a hill, the cager was near and as it crested the hill, jostled for position in front of me frantically avoiding a collision. Then many other pointless times people passed me, a 30mph zone when I was going over 35.
I guess the meaning of 2 wheeled culture can stem from a good ride, its natural art in motion that parallels a meaningless death by a imbecilic cager(s) who is most likely on their phone or not paying attention. Yet with mopeds its like a cigar, its something that isn't enjoyed by many, its slow, and has a pleasantness about it. Yet the more you smoke the more likely you are to die, sometimes quickly other times a lingering painful death. Maybe thats why I live today and ride today, to draw in the beauty of this world before it is snatched away from me.
With the senses and the nostalgic feelings from before I think as I ride on a empty space of road, void of potholes or distractions. I think of what is wrong with this world and why riding makes it feel so right, I guess thats the paradox of the world. Knowing something awful is happening elsewhere and knowing that it can't affect you as you sit there on that seat in motion going down a road, hugging a white line, and nothing happening apart from the senses fueling the self with amazement and thoughts going by just as fast as trees and mailboxes.
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