And the Roads which Take You Around Them.
You can try to predict how a riding season here in the north woods might go, but you really can't be sure. The nation suffered an incredible stretch of heat this summer. The kind of heat I won't ride in anymore. But for some evening rides, I had to wait until the heat broke.
I got to thinking about where I've been riding. And where I've been meaning to ride.
There's an area I've been meaning to explore. A motorcycle store is in a town right off the expressway. You can see the building from the freeway. The place sells Triumphs and BMWs among other brands. They also carry a good selection of gear.
So I decided to take the back roads and wend my way to this motorcycle store. Only I wasn't real attentive to the time. Apparently I was having too much fun to notice I wasn't getting all that much closer for all the riding I was doing. I arrived ten minutes after they closed. And I wasn't the only one. A few others rolled into the lot during my stretch-and-drink. I chatted with one fellow restoring his father's KZ650 who'd done pretty much the same thing I had; got lost in the spirit of the ride. On the way home, I stretched that ride even longer. Once or twice I was completely disoriented as clouds blotted away the sun. At one point I rode better than two miles on a dirt road. The lushest, densest, greenest overgrowth on a country lane I can remember. If anyone saw me they had to know I was lost. And they could probably tell I didn't care that I was lost either.
These roads around the lakes. They're the slow way to get somewhere. Only the locals and other riders seem to enjoy them. They almost seem like a natural barrier to folks in a hurry. Which is fine, because they're fantastic to ride at legal speeds. And it isn't just these roads. A curve can surprise you with an incredible view. A lake with sailboats and fisherman for example. Rolling hills of wheat and tassled corn. tracts of woods such a dark shade of green they actually appear blue.
It's a slightly different heading on the compass. A new angle on the ride, so to speak (sorry-couldn't resist).
To the roads around the lakes.