I won't ask him just yet. The time just doesn't seem to be right. He's trying to heal and work through walking and standing all over again. Two back surgeries in the eighties complicate things. Being 72 years of age doesn't help but at the same time he's active and concerned about his overall health. A fairly quick healer.
The choice he made is one which we see on a regular basis. Its the odds on favorite that make it ugly. The consequence of rolling the dice and playing those odds. As riders we make those choices every day. Some of us will ride our entire lives and never suffer for it. Others, for any host of reasons will not be so lucky. The roll of the dice.
I'm not a betting man. To a point. I'll ride whenever I can but I'll ride with wide eyes, as they say.
Its one thing to ride. Another to ride at the edge of your skill and yet another to ride with your mind somewhere else. No one gets to make those decisions for you. Its all yours. A judgement call.
Riding with your mind somewhere else. Suddenly reality rises out of your thoughts and BOOM you're wondering how much time elapsed since you opened your eyes to stare at the sky. No longer part of the horizon but taking up your full view. That's what my dad described to me. His hit, flying through the air and landing on the pavement.
I don't mind slowing down anymore. I can find a reason to put the machine on the boil some other time. I don't mind paying closer attention to the view ahead and to the sides of me than I had in years past.
To those who wait.
I hold a Friday night ride at the local Dairy Queen here in St. Cloud, Mn. We've been meeting between 6:30 and 7:00pm. This last week was the first week I've missed it. The afternoon my dad called to tell me what happened. I'll keep that ride a'rollin. I've met some of the best scooter people on those Friday Nites. And you know, pop wouldn't have it any other way.