Sunday Ride To Clear The soul
Danny and I went on a brisk little ride today. Remember Danny? He's the one who gave me all the free parts to help get my bike going again. This guy is a brother in the highest order and though I've only known him maybe a year on this level, we met perhaps three years ago, I have a huge respect for him and the more I learn about him the higher the respect climbs. No, not just because he lent a helping hand on my bike but because of who he is as a person.
When he rolled into my driveway he was ready to roll on down the road. We'd both been busy today and time to ride was upon us for some mucho cobweb cleaning of the grey matter. We had been trying to get a ride in for several weeks and last night sitting around the bonfire we made plans for today. RB was more than ready and fired up easy with no gremlins to muck anything up.
Wooley over the idle of the V-Twins: "Where ya wanta go?"
Danny: "I don't know. I figured I'd just follow you."
Wooley: "Alright. Let's head up 62 North and see what's that way. Been years since I've been that far up before hitting the 119 Split."
Danny: "Sounds good. How you like to ride?"
Wooley: "Staggered formation."
Danny: "Alright, sounds good."
We pull off and make our way to 87 North then swing through a cut over across some little back roads into the country. Hanging a left on a knoll and we're on 62 North at a leisurely pace down the the hill, around the curve, over the two lane bridge past the old Glencoe Mill Village , which was having a gathering today,more great information here if your into history like me Textile Heritage Museum at Glencoe North Carolina, up another rise to five points then keep on getting it. Once in the clear of traffic lights and traffic I roll it on. Checking my mirror to make sure Danny is there as we make a sweeping right on a clear road. Nothing in front of us and nothing behind except asphalt that is disappearing behind and welcoming us ahead like ribbons blowing in the breeze. We pass farm after farm then hit some forested land where the temperature drops a few degrees then back to fields on both sides. I take in the scenes of grazing cattle and sleeping tractors while keeping an eye out for deer and birds to cross our path.
On down the road we roll until it ends at a crossroads. Left and we'll continue on Hwy 62 North, straight will put us on Hwy 49 which splits off 62 towards Roxboro and Virginia, right will take us towards Hawriver. I tell Danny as he stops beside me I'm not sure if I'm doing fifty five or sixty, the speedometer needle keeps swinging back and forth. He shrugs and I check traffic before pulling off. He says his back brake is fading. We hang a left there at the old Rock gas station onto 62 North and I get on it a little to see how my new carburetor setting is. RB hunkers down and takes off like a shot in third gear sliding me back on the solo saddle as I toe up into fourth. Surprise and a big grin comes across my face from the acceleration of a non stumbling twist of the throttle. Now I know I can pass if I need to as RB Settles back down to a reasonable speed I believe to be fifty five while Danny catches up. Not far up the road we come to the split off for Hwy 119 by the long closed old One stop Lake stop shop that would take us up towards Sedalia and Hyco lake but I'd done that last week with Billy and it's a familiar section. I keep straight on 62 past the cutoff into forgotten territory. It's been sixteen or seventeen years since I'd been up this far on 62. Rolling hills and forty five mile an hour curves greet us not far along: we take the curves at sixty with ease. Continuing along, smoke from the fireplaces of an old Long Home fills the air as we pass. There are not many fields on this section as forest land lines the roadway with pretty foliage of differing hughes in oranges, reds, tans, yellows and browns. Descending a hill there is a sweet smell in the air and I breath it deep wondering what it is; what plant is spraying it's fine perfume this fine afternoon for us to enjoy as the road and daily pressures unravel, loosen and blow away in the wind. We ride on.
Further along the road a few miles more I pull into a Shell station in a clearing at the left side of the road. Danny pulls up and I ask him how much farther he wants to ride. He asks if I have a watch for the time so I check my cell. It's ten past four. He tells me his back brake is now gone, nothing. We decide it best to head back.
Making a U-turn we head back down the road towards home. Not a mile along I check my mirrors for Danny and not only do I see him but also a long trail of bikes. I wonder if they'll pass us but they fall in and continue on at our pace, in from what I can tell, adjusting their staggered formation to ours. We roll like this for miles with me in the lead. I can't help but think how fricking cool it is that I'm leading this large pack down the two laned country road. I speed up to seventy and the group speeds up, then I slow it back down to fifty five as we approach some traffic then to sixty. Everyone seems to be reading me and moves as one. A rough section patched of road and I move left and everyone moves left almost single file. Signaling a right turn off, leaning my bike, RB handles it with no problem as I wonder how close my foot peg is to the ground. Straight now I check the mirror to see the whole pack farther behind making the turn along with Danny. To damned cool, to damned cool.
I must remember to slow the pace through town because of Danny's no back brake. More miles disappear beneath us and attach themselves to my odometer, captured clicks of the day.
Holding up my hand Danny and I split off on another back road five miles along. A few miles more and we come to the intersection where I go left and he goes right towards home. He says he has to find and fix the brake problem this week. It doesn't lose fluid anywhere but losses all pressure. I tell him to just tell me when and I'll be there. He heads his way and I mine and arriving home I feel rejuvenated. Maybe I'll tackle that stupid riding mower starting problem now.