I had an argument with a family member the other night and just hopped on the bike and went for a ride. No destination in mind, no GPS or maps, just got up and rode off into the sunset… Literally.
I’m telling you. a motorcycle is like therapy. Hell, I sat through a few “therapy” sessions in my life. The motorcycle is better than therapy! It’s like my personal anti-depressant, all-natural with the only known side effect of being highly addictive 🙂
About an hour into my ride, the white fluffy clouds and the blue sky began to turn various shades of pink. I can see the sun setting in the rearview mirror and it feels like it’s just melting the stress from my mind. I pull over for some fuel.Â
Country hillside landscapes begin to silhouette in front of pink dusk skies. Slowly, the bright green leaves of maples, and oaks, begin to darken as the hills start to intersect with the final gloaming of nightfall.
Riding along the interstate at about 70 mph your nostrils fill with the earthy aroma of the forest. Occasional wisps of evergreen fill your nose. The highway is dark and empty with only your headlights leading the way and penetrating the black of night. The night air, now much cooler than the hot summer sun sends a refreshing shiver through your body and fills you with some much-needed relief from a sweltering summer day.
I pull off the interstate and start riding old country dirt roads. I’m riding much slower at a relaxed pace. An albino stag runs across the road and looks like a four-legged ghost in the brightness of my headlight. Thoughts of Cernunnos fill my mind.The sky above is filled with the starry brilliance of the universe that surrounds us. For a brief moment, all is one as the cool night air envelopes my entire body.Â
I come across a small town and the only open business at 10 in the evening is a gas station. I stop and top off my gas tank and purchase a cold brewed iced tea from a heavily tattooed blond woman wearing a white tank top. She has a natural beauty but looks tired and a little worn out, much like this town.
There’s a picnic bench on the side of the gas station. I sit down looking up at the night sky as I sip my ice-cold tea. I take in the brilliance of the night sky, you just don’t see stars like this in the city.
I feel like I could ride another 3 or 4 hours, but reluctantly I decide to head back home. It’s getting late now and maybe if I don’t screw around too much I’ll make it back home by 1 AM. I pull my phone from my pocket and bark into it, “Google, give me directions home”.
When I return home my head is clear and my mind rested. I lay down on my bed and sleep soundly until morning. Apparently, not only are motorcycles a good cure for depression, but they’re also a pretty good cure for insomnia.
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