Moments

Moments.
Sweet, precious moments.
When nothing else exists.
No past.
No future.
Only the moment.
The smells drifting across my nose.
The air ebbing and flowing around me.
The roaring exhaust notes.
And the road, curving, twisting, tilting.
At such times, the road is nothing.
And the road is everything.

People sometimes ask why i ride. Or shoot me strange looks as though I might have somehow lost my sanity.
And sometimes I talk to ex riders, who have hung up their gear for the last time, for their own personal reasons, who talk wistfully of past rides.

And this is why I ride. For those sweet, precious moments.

For the exhilaration.
For the way it feeds my soul.
For the purity.

Life is meant to be lived. How do you live yours?

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