First Ride This Spring
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From: Walker Basin, CA
First Ride This Spring
Well, it finally happened yesterday. The first ride of spring. The weeds are mowed, the brush cut back, the windfall limbs cut up and stacked. I decided to take a day off for me. A mental health day. A day, long needed, to clear my mind and free up my soul. A day just for Me.
I woke up early, before daybreak and started the coffee. I needed a cup before heading out. The darkness was giving way to daybreak and I could just barely see the rabbits on the front lawn. Make a mental note to set the rifle by the front door. The wind was blowing and it was cold outside. I was thinking it might not be a "shirt sleeve" day like the weatherman had lied about the night before on the TV.
I found my helmet and gloves, the jacket and chaps, gulped the coffee and headed for the garage. I pushed the button to open the door and the first golden rays of the morning sun peeked between the clouds and highlighted my ride in corner. The windshield sparkled and the tank glistened in the faint light. I had polished her the night before and she was waiting for that touch on the start button, just waiting to purr to life.
I swung a leg astride and sat on the cold leather seat. Just took a moment to warm it up. I hit the starter button and she roared to life. A few minutes to warm up and we headed down the driveway. I stopped and unlocked the gate, all the while keeping an eye to the sky for some hint of what the weather would do.
I live in a mountain pass, so the weather funnels through my area with high winds and rain or fog many times when the weather is milder in the valley. Today was to be one of those days.
I wound around the side road to the county road, all the time listening to the throb of the engine, while grinning from ear to ear as the pipes belted out the HD roar. Every turn brought the up and down sounds of the change of the heartbeat of the TwinCam 88.
I headed down the road, descending into the valley with the morning sun warming my back. I looked over on the next mountain and could see where the road made it light brown cut just below the top of the hill. The wild flowers of spring are still in bloom and the colors were brilliant. The bright yellow buttercups were laying on the hilltop with patches of deep purple lupines scattered around. With the layer of the light brown road, the buttercups and lupines, it looked like a stack of pancakes with butter and blueberry syrup poured over the top. Reminded me I hadn't eaten that morning. Oh well, there is a coffee shop down on the highway where I can get something at the truck stop. The turns came and went as I danced the Harley Hula and swayed back and forth with my ride. We were hand in hand, arm in arm and body to body as we swayed ever so gracefully through each turn. The scent of the wildflowers, the smell of the oak trees mixed with the fresh smell of morning gave a heady aroma to the morning dance. The smile on my face and the feeling of freedom told the whole story as I relished every turn.
The breakfast stop came all to soon because it marked the end of the winding road and the beginning of the state highway. When I walked out after a bite to eat, the sun was higher in the morning sky and the clouds had blown out. Temperatures were rising and my spirits were too. I made the cell phone call to my buddy to make sure he was finished with his "Honey Do List" for the day. He told me he hid the list and was heading for the place we were to meet.
We joined up and headed north on Hwy 99. The miles quickly rolled by under the wheels and we were soon in Visalia and turned onto a road known as the Blossom Trail. Every spring when the trees bloom, nature puts on an unbelievable display of sights and smells for all to enjoy. The scenery was fantastic. The clouds over the Sierra Nevada mountains, the sun breaking through in spots highlighting the green of the foothills. The cloying sweet fragrance of blossoms fill
I woke up early, before daybreak and started the coffee. I needed a cup before heading out. The darkness was giving way to daybreak and I could just barely see the rabbits on the front lawn. Make a mental note to set the rifle by the front door. The wind was blowing and it was cold outside. I was thinking it might not be a "shirt sleeve" day like the weatherman had lied about the night before on the TV.
I found my helmet and gloves, the jacket and chaps, gulped the coffee and headed for the garage. I pushed the button to open the door and the first golden rays of the morning sun peeked between the clouds and highlighted my ride in corner. The windshield sparkled and the tank glistened in the faint light. I had polished her the night before and she was waiting for that touch on the start button, just waiting to purr to life.
I swung a leg astride and sat on the cold leather seat. Just took a moment to warm it up. I hit the starter button and she roared to life. A few minutes to warm up and we headed down the driveway. I stopped and unlocked the gate, all the while keeping an eye to the sky for some hint of what the weather would do.
I live in a mountain pass, so the weather funnels through my area with high winds and rain or fog many times when the weather is milder in the valley. Today was to be one of those days.
I wound around the side road to the county road, all the time listening to the throb of the engine, while grinning from ear to ear as the pipes belted out the HD roar. Every turn brought the up and down sounds of the change of the heartbeat of the TwinCam 88.
I headed down the road, descending into the valley with the morning sun warming my back. I looked over on the next mountain and could see where the road made it light brown cut just below the top of the hill. The wild flowers of spring are still in bloom and the colors were brilliant. The bright yellow buttercups were laying on the hilltop with patches of deep purple lupines scattered around. With the layer of the light brown road, the buttercups and lupines, it looked like a stack of pancakes with butter and blueberry syrup poured over the top. Reminded me I hadn't eaten that morning. Oh well, there is a coffee shop down on the highway where I can get something at the truck stop. The turns came and went as I danced the Harley Hula and swayed back and forth with my ride. We were hand in hand, arm in arm and body to body as we swayed ever so gracefully through each turn. The scent of the wildflowers, the smell of the oak trees mixed with the fresh smell of morning gave a heady aroma to the morning dance. The smile on my face and the feeling of freedom told the whole story as I relished every turn.
The breakfast stop came all to soon because it marked the end of the winding road and the beginning of the state highway. When I walked out after a bite to eat, the sun was higher in the morning sky and the clouds had blown out. Temperatures were rising and my spirits were too. I made the cell phone call to my buddy to make sure he was finished with his "Honey Do List" for the day. He told me he hid the list and was heading for the place we were to meet.
We joined up and headed north on Hwy 99. The miles quickly rolled by under the wheels and we were soon in Visalia and turned onto a road known as the Blossom Trail. Every spring when the trees bloom, nature puts on an unbelievable display of sights and smells for all to enjoy. The scenery was fantastic. The clouds over the Sierra Nevada mountains, the sun breaking through in spots highlighting the green of the foothills. The cloying sweet fragrance of blossoms fill
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