open road therapy

I understand the lure of the open road.  I’ve only gotten to eat a crumb from that table so far.  Thanks to a generous friend who let me barrow his motorcycle, I got to run along the Lake Michigan Shoreline today.  The two lane roads amble along the watery behemoth.  The bike and I would just sway back and forth with the rythm of the road.

I will have my own bike again someday.  It’s been 14 since I had one.  14 years since two friends barrowed it and were hit by a car.  I have grieved.  Now I grieve and long for a two wheeled horse.

The road to me is therapy.  Ridding a bike to me is praying.  There’s less between you and the road.  Which is a deal breaker for most people.  I’m open and vulnerable.  Another deal breaker.  There’s something special that happens in my soul when I ride.  I don’t know what it is but right now, I feel at peace.  Its as if I spent all day in silent contemplation.  Perhaps I did.  The only one I talked to was The Father.  I feel as if I just returned from Mount Zion, or Sinai.

My destination was Grand Haven.  This was a good bye for me.  Growing up, my Mom and I went there many times for vacation.  I stopped by the State Park, road up the hill that Prospect St takes you up, and walked along the channel.  I bought a cheap shirt from The University Shop on the Wharf.  I had a cappuccino and a tuna salad sandwich at Jumpin’ Java.  [Thanks for the pen.]

I turned South.  The time had come to head home.  The boys would be out of school by the time I got there.  Besides I had to be home to take Jen out for a belated birthday dinner.   A solo road trip, and date night?  Perfect.

Until next time dear road.

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One thought on “open road therapy

  1. Nice piece of riding (I’m leaving it, but I meant “writing”). I could almost hear that silence that comes even with the sound of the engine and the wind at pace. Your writing is part of the prayer, thanks for letting it be corporate. I’m with you.

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