Big Decisions

I tend to do a lot of pondering and mulling over a big decision. I let it percolate awhile, testing it out in my mind. Then I put out an inkling or two, trying it out on Judy and a few trusted friends. I mull it more, then decide. It’s not quick, but it's a recipe that works for me.

 

This latest big decision is life changing. It closes a chapter filled with excitement, exploration, lessons learned, and swagger. It alters my identity.

I am letting go of Big Red. It’s time.

My inner wisdom tells me so, and I am listening. Everything has a season, and this one has lasted nearly 21 years, more than 150 thousand miles across the United States and Canada and into Mexico. Extraordinary adventures, scenery, and friendships have forever changed and enriched me.

So, what brought me to this decision? Declining interest in actually getting out there and riding. Friend Bonnie described, ”It’s becoming more job than joy?” For two consecutive years, Big Red hibernated in her Cycle Shell from November to April. I woke her in time to make sure she was roadworthy before heading to Oregon. This summer, I’ve ridden once with Laurie to Elkton and to and from Honda World for Big Red’s regular maintenance.

Long stretches off the bike means a rider doesn’t get much practice. This is not a good thing, given the myriad situations that call for quick response and safe bike handling. Such a cyclist puts herself and others in jeopardy.

So, I think it is wise to pull back while, as my buddy Dennis said, I’m “at the top of my game.” I would rather do that than be forced to quit riding because of an accident or injury. Now, I will concentrate on finding a good home for Big Red while she’s still in good shape, too. She deserves a place where someone else can enjoy the 100K miles she has left in her.

I'm grateful for the special moments, the memories, and the thousands of miles. And, as we bikers say after surviving a distressing incident or a difficult ride, “Now, I have stories.” A lifetime of stories.

~ xoA ~

Advice from a Volcano

I’ve been away, on vacation on the island of Hawai’i.

 While there, Judy and I hiked in Volcanoes National Park. One day, our journey took us through the lava tube, over a rugged path on the crater rim, and down onto and across the floor of the caldera, where we warmed our hands at the steam vents. 

Our second day, we drove to the end of the crater road and stood atop the lava where the newest lava flow crossed on its way to the ocean a few years ago. 

 Along that drive, the site of ancient petroglyphs beckoned to us, so we stopped for a look at these revered artifacts.

 Back in the gift shop after viewing a thrilling volcano video, the words of Ilan Shamir caught my attention. “Advice from a Volcano” felt like a DayMaker-kinda’ message. So here you are. With love and aloha. xoA

 

Advice from a Volcano

Stay Active

Keep your Inner Fire Burning

It’s OK to Let off Steam

Go with the Flow

Be Uplifting

It’s All a Matter of Time

Have a Blast!

Pele (Original hanging in the Jagger Museum)

Zee Wrap

Key West, FL

Twenty-six posts in 13 weeks. That’ll keep a blogger busy. The same goes for readers and followers. A writer writes for others as well as for herself.  So hearing from readers and fellow writers told me that my goal of reaching other people was being met. Some folks commented on the blog; others emailed me privately. Of no surprise, the post that garnered the most feedback was “I is for Intercourse.”  Most often, responders said, “You really got my attention with that title.”

At meetings, on the phone, or when we’d randomly bump into each other, people would let me know they were traveling with me.

Ketchikan, Alaska

My sincere thanks to you who stuck with me on this challenge, reading along and sharing your memories and experiences and encouraging me in my quest to become a better writer.

And thanks to Judy. She is the photographer who took many of the pictures and often dove into the archives on her external hard drive to retrieve just the photo I needed.

Rainbow Row in Charleston, SC

A to Z, I had some difficult choices to make: San Antonio, Sydney, Savannah or Skagway? Columbus, Chapel Hill, Cusco, or Charleston? Michigan, Machu Picchu, Maui, or Mexico City? And, I forgot all about Ann Arbor until I was on to H.

The Urubamba at Aguas Calientes

The delicious thing was that I revisited many meaningful places and relived long-ago memories. I heard the cacophony of the Urubama River, in the village where we stayed on our way to Machu Picchu. I suffered the queasy knees of those first steps out on the Sidney Bridge.  I felt the comfort of family and childhood days in Columbus and Detroit.  As Anaїs Nin said, I “tasted life twice.” 

For me, it was a marvelous journey -- again. Which was your favorite stop?

 ~ xoA ~

T is for Texas

I’ve romped, driven, waltzed, and ridden my motorcycle across Texas many times over the years. Living in California and visiting friends and relatives back East since the 1970s, one does not escape the “Lone Star” state. In fact, once you set rubber or your feet in Texas, it’s days before you’re out of there. So this post will consist of Texas moments and memories from several trips. 

On journeys where Texas was not my destination, I remember (and can still feel) how fierce winds caused my motorcycle to lean sideways as I rode through Amarillo in the panhandle. What’s a motorcyclist to do in a situation like that? Hold tight and keep going. 

 

But, in March of 2001, Judy and I drove to San Antonio so I could attend a conference. We spent a week in this town of The Alamo, taking in the River Walk and other nearby sites and eating our fill of Shiner Bock black bean soup at the Zuni Grill. 

En route from Bakersfield, our drive took us through a landscape shot with color. Lavender runners of bluebonnets lined our pathway as we passed through desert scenes. The foothills crinkled into Sharpei furrows, breaking up the flat lands of the western desert. Yellow rocknettle and desert marigolds spread out over the landscape mingling with the bluebonnets. Many of the yuccas were in bloom, and we also saw red and green prickly pear cactus.

While taking a break at Study (STEW-dee) Butte, I visited with a local man who told me about the Texas road across the highway that was the “2nd best motorcycle road in the country.” Judy and I looked at the sign and at our map and saw that the road would take us right down to the Rio Grande in under twenty miles. So, we detoured onto it. Route 170 led us past Terlingua, which boasted a restaurant called “When Pigs Fly BBQ” and into Lajitas. Yep, there was the famous Rio Grande; in this place, merely a narrow strip separating the U.S. from Mexico. We flagged down another tourist to take a picture of us with the Rio Grande in the background. As we posed, an SUV entered the water from the Mexican side and drove across to the U.S., right behind us.  So much for border control.

A cross-country driving trip in the spring of 2002 found us spending two full days on I-10, getting ourselves across Texas. Mid morning on the second day brought a welcome diversion as we rolled in to the heart of Davy Crockett County and the little town of Ozona.  One cannot leave Ozona without stopping to see the David Crockett Monument, which is on the east edge of the town square.   This town square also boasted an inviting gazebo and a number of pecan trees that had shed ripe nuts all over the ground.  Like kids, we bustled around, gathering up pecans and stuffing them into our jacket pockets then posing for photos in the shadow of Davy’s statue.

Next, we hit the capitol city of Austin, home of the LBJ Presidential Library and host to an amazing Mardi Gras celebration. After touring the Texas Capitol building and LBJ’s impressive library, we made our way to the Driskill Hotel. This historic hotel opened in 1886 and was the site of the first interstate telephone line use, in 1899. LBJ kept a suite there throughout his political life and spent the 1964 presidential election night at the Driskill.

Our last night in Austin, we joined the Mardi Gras revelry.  A six-block-long section of downtown was closed off for the event. Humanity filled the streets, including a very large and comforting presence of Austin’s finest – in cars, on foot, on motorcycles, and on horseback. We also saw EMT’s on bikes.  

Getting into the spirit, we stopped at a “cigar shoppe” to pick up some Mardi Gras beads. Others had multiple strands of varying colors, sizes, and designs – some with lights. We wound our way through the crowd, noticing some folks wearing masks and others sporting jester hats. Teenage girls sat atop guys’ shoulders and vied for strands of beads that the crowd threw at them. These girls would grab the beads and put them around their necks. Then they would lift up their shirts, baring their breasts for the cameras that flashed like crazy. Now, we decided, we had officially seen everything. Texas was living up to its reputation.

The most gorgeous West Texas sight came as we drove toward home. A magnificent sunset with pinks folding into deep fuchsia and vibrant reds presented itself across a dark blue sky. In the foreground, the silhouettes of palm trees stood tall overlooking the lights of El Paso City against the backdrop of the blue-gray Franklin Mountains.This captivating scene was a perfect ending to our time in Texas.

 ~ xoA ~