another step closer

Today I sold the motorcycle and I feel both sadness and excitement. Sad to see my first "real" bike go, but excited because it is helping fund my Appalachian Trail hike. Getting on that bike for a ride never failed to lift my mood, bring me fully present to the now (for there is no other way to ride, in my book), and bring me happiness. I had once promised a partner that I would never get a bike. When that relationship ended, I decided it was time to explore my authentic interest in motorcycling, so I saved for the cost of the motorcycle safety course as a birthday gift to myself. My Christmas gift was this machine, bought from a trusted friend.

In just over two years, I put a thoroughly enjoyable 4400 miles on it, along with a few comfort and convenience accessories. I made a couple of my own repairs, learned how to jumpstart a bike, had a few scary moments on the roads, but always felt it was one of the best things I ever did for myself. I've known for awhile that hiking the AT would mean selling the savage, because I needed the proceeds to help fund the trip, and it would be wholly impractical and not good for the bike for it to sit for up to six months. Possessions pass into and out of our lives, and are easily replaced. Without a doubt, as long as I am physically able, I know I will be a motorcycle rider. I'm keeping the riding gear, because I'm sure one of these days, at least one of my long distance trips will be by motorcycle. Riding a motorcycle is the closest thing to flying without leaving the ground, and I know I want to get another one when I return from my hike. Until then, it was money and time well spent.

I am grateful to have honored the inner voice that said I was born to ride, and grateful that this interest is enabling me to pursue other ventures. Some people really do have some internal thing going on that says "I must ride a motorcycle." You can tell it because they're the ones that always notice other motorcycles on the road, that can't help but look in the direction of the approaching exhaust rumble or engine whine, drawn by some unknowable force to the call of two-wheeled transportation. I will always be glad I answered the call. And I'm already thinking about my next bike.