Thought for the day

The day after a ride, some thoughts

I do not want to go quietly into the night, yet that is a possibility for us all.  I want to lead an interesting life.  I vow to embrace and enjoy the ride.  I will try most things once.  My comfort zone is pretty wide.

I took Vanessa on a motorcycle ride.  It was a beautiful day. 

She later told me that she never thought that she would ever ride on a motorcycle and that she would not expect to enjoy it. 

She told me she enjoyed the ride and my company.  It was well out of her comfort zone. 

I did feel a bit guilty afterwards.  Perhaps I am overthinking.

Most women I have dated were anxious to go for a ride.  This seems a bit different. An obligation to me? Perhaps she was overthinking.

My conundrum for today; do I want to push someone out of their comfort zone?  Safety is not assured.  Or search for that woman who longs for the ride?

I liked this quote:

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms, 1929

 

Another thought:  Regret lives in the past.  Worry and anxiety live in future.  Sometimes it takes a divorce to figure these thing out.

Day 10 continued, Blurry eyed and missing my shoe

I am on a mission to see my mom.  I focus and ride.  I pass through the badlands but do not see much and do not stop.  I pass right on by Wall Drug. 

80 MPH speed limit is South Dakota.  The powers that be appreciate that this is a boring stretch of highway.    The weather remains good, a little warm but comfortable.  The tunes are playing but difficult to listen to at 85 MPH.  I try to get off every couple of hours to stretch my legs or refuel.

Tangent warning:  Sometime I get impatient.  I am doing better with this as I age but when I get frustrated, tired and hungry I get careless.  I have the bike packed to the gills and on the back is a red waterproof bag with a drawstring type opening.  It is over-packed.  The right thing to do would to repack.  In that bag I cram some drinks, some jerky and by beloved, officially licensed, Margaritaville boat shoes. 


I loved those shoes. Casual, cool and comfortable.  I would wear them at camp or in the hotel.  I am not a particularly stylish guy, but I felt pretty stylish wearing them.  They replaced another beloved pair and are not easy to find.  They were the last item in the bag.

I do make a stop at the Corn Palace in Mitchell South Dakota. Fueled the bike, the body, and took a picture.


Haste makes waste.  Because of my haste, and my cramming, I am now missing my shoe.  Somewhere on I-90 in South Dakota is one size 9.5 stylish boat shoe bounced out of my bag and is now decomposing in some ditch.

I finally hit the border to Minnesota.  The speed limit drops and more road construction greats me.  I consider passing through Fairmont Minnesota.  My parents grew up there.  It reminds me of the small town and some of the people described by Garrison Keillor in his wonderful stories of Lake Wobegon.  My grandparents are buried there along with some of the ashes of my father. 

It is getting late and I decide I will not make that trip today and chose a more direct route.  I feel some remorse, when will I make that trip? 

I head NW on Highway 60.  I am used to a ground speed of 85 MPH.  The speed limit is 55 MPH.  60 MPH seems slow.  55 MPH seems ridiculous.  I hope I do not get a ticket.

Around sunset I find myself in St. James Minnesota.  I am exhausted.   I call my mom and tell her where I am.  She plans to wait up for me because I guess that is what mothers do. 

It is dark as I head into Mankato.  I know the way home but am exhausted.  I stop at a McDonalds to regroup.  I am really not too hungry but do need a break. 

I think I know the route home but my eyes are not cooperating.  The roads are dark, curvy and unlit .  I start seeing double on the reflectors that line part of the road. I am scared and unable to drive the speed limit because I cannot see the road. I am sad that my eyes are behaving this poorly.  My body is tired and my mind wanders.  My mission continues.    I am taking my time as I really do not and cannot see the curves in the road very far ahead.  I am getting passed, something that does not happen to me often, and use the car ahead of me as a target.  The car goes too fast and I again struggle in the dark.  A semi passes me, it is a bigger target  and I follow it to Shakopee.  I get my second, third or fourth wind.  From there the roads are better lit and there is more traffic to follow. 


Getting old with glaucoma sucks!

I rolled into Mom’s driveway around 11:30.  It is good to be home.  Mission accomplished. 

Day 10 Homeward bound

It is time to head home.  It is nice to go home.  It is nice to have a home to go home to.  My destination is my boyhood home.  I left home at 18 and have not lived there since except for a couple of months after college.  I usually visit at least once a year.

It was a pretty idyllic home to be raised in. It is on the water, Medicine Lake.  My best friend lived down the street.  A woods to play in.  A gang of other kids to play with.  Boating, fishing, skiing, sliding, and amateur sports like wiffle ball, touch football and pickup hockey kept us occupied.  It was there when I first rode a mini bike then a motorcycle.  Brilliant!  You turn the throttle and you go.  You turn it farther and you go faster.  The gateway drug.

Thanks mom, thanks dad.

Home is different since my dad died.  His presence is still everywhere.  I see it in his post it notes which lists projects and tasks which will never be completed.  His parts bins all labeled and organized. 

Mom is there and is holding it all together.  Her gardens are beautiful.  I know she is lonely.

I have people to see and to talk to.  Something I have not done much of this trip.

But I digress…..

I did not have the most restful night.  I came “home” a bit late but there was still music playing off in the distance.  As I am in my tent I hear other bikers with their loud exhausts announce their arrival back into camp.  This goes on until the early morning. 

In the very early morning we have the early risers, who also have incredibly loud exhausts, announcing their departure from the camp.  They are off to their own adventure.

I pack up my tent, and sleeping bag.  I compress my air mattress.  I am ready to roll.  I head east out of the Sturgis circus. 

I am surprised at the number of compounds lining I-90 filled with motorcycles.  Every exit for the next 40 miles has something to attract bikers.  It is really incredible how many ride motorcycles and how many of those converge on Sturgis the first week of August. 

Today will be long and boring.  Most of it will be on freeways.  There is not a lot to see in South Dakota.  The rider is a bit tired from the adventure and not quite as willing as the machine.  This bike is made to munch the miles.  Reasons why I bought it:

1. Because I could, it is an expensive extravagance (I have pulled the plow for many years)
2. Because I like to plan and knew this machine would do the job
3. I wanted to take the trip, ride the roads before I die
4. Six cylinders and uses them all!
5. You cannot buy happiness but you can buy horsepower and that is pretty satisfying

Minneapolis is 600 miles away. 

Another Tricky Day

https://www.dvidshub.net/image/2583569/itx-3-16







Some pictures as  my son is involved in training at 29 Palms California.  I would like to think that he is in one of these photos.


"You want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like "honor", "code", "loyalty". We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something."


I am grateful for the service.  I am quite sure that I want my son on that wall.  But he made the choice and he serves with honor.


Tough duty.  Not nearly as nice as the name implies. I would prefer that my son stay far away from desert training.  Yet I want him trained for the job he may have to perform.


I am fond of saying I had another tricky day.  Juggling personnel, making calls on trials, trying to keep current on my files and emails. 


Another tricky day for him but his involves high explosives and now nice bed at the end of the day.    Perhaps my days are not so tricky. 


One more deployment and he may be out.

Thought for the day

Another blog

This guy is pretty interesting.  Vijayraj Kamat


https://favans.quora.com/


I am following his blog. 


He is an INTJ and deals with such mundane topics such as the meaning of life.  He also posts on being an INTJ. 


He has a pretty good TED talk about lies we tell ourselves which can be self-destructive.


Good stuff

INTJ dating guide

Checking my list....


Damn, I like this list.  A related quality.  Don't be boring.  I promise to try not to be boring.

Some quotes I like

The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man. George Bernard Shaw

“He had delusions of adequacy”  Walter Kerr

“He has all the virtues I dislike and none of the Vices I admire”  Winston Churchill

I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure.”  Clarence Darrow

Diamonds are nothing more than chunks of coal that stuck to their jobs. -- Malcolm Forbes