Virginia Wind From Where I Sit August 2002

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Backseat - From Where I Sit

August 2002

Anatomy of A Road Trip

With the official reading of 2,063 miles under my backside and the bug strikes not yet wiped off my face shield, I can't help but feel as if I have experienced something magical. Our week-long trip from Virginia to Maine was a first for me (at least the first on two wheels) and I am still under the spell of the perpetual wind in my face and rumble in my ears.

It was a slow "awakening" for me in which I gradually moved from a stressed-out, over-worked suburbanite to a full-blown biker touring the countryside. I am not sure when the transformation took place. However, I am positive it was some time after the first day when we FINALLY got off of Route 95. It may have occurred when we crossed the Maine border but I am not certain.

Regardless of when it happened, I began to feel that I had left the real world behind. Officially "on tour", I didn't care that I sat on the pavement at gas stations drinking water straight from a gallon jug. It didn't matter that my perpetual helmet hair was dangling in my face in knots. In fact, the hairbrush that I carefully packed to be within reach was hardly used. Who cared? I was free. I wasn't one of them. I was now the seasoned traveler just passing through. I looked different. I felt different. I was different. As both the scenery and the people changed around me, I realized I was now the observer and not the participant in the day to day activities of life. It was heaven!

That's not to say that the journey wasn't without its little pitfalls. It did seem like the seat got a bit higher each day and at times my leg just didn't quite want to go over it. But unlike when we ride around home, I didn't look around to see if anyone watched me fumble. I didn't even realize that I had gone in the gas station with my do-rag hanging half-way off my head. Around home when I am on day trips, I am very careful to put on my do-rag mere seconds before my helmet and remove it instantly, less anyone actually see me in it. Suddenly, on this trip, I found myself walking around looking like a drunken pirate and I didn't even notice. The strangest part was neither did anyone else or if they did, they didn't seem to react. I wasn't one of them, I was just passing through.

I admit I had my doubts about this trip at first especially when Kent handed me the tiny saddle bag that was barely the size of my purse to use for all my possessions for the entire week. Yet, somehow I managed. In the end this turned out to be of great benefit because unpacking was a breeze. The only drawback was that last day or so when everything clean had been used and we weren't able to find a convenient Laundromat but like I said, I didn't care, I was just passing through. Besides, the wind from the bike would keep any offending odors at bay. It was like a perpetual dry cleaner (at least in theory).

Now that we are back in the real world, I can only hope that some of the changes in my attitude are permanent. Though I have to confess that one of the first things I did (besides the laundry) was take a long hot bubble bath, blow dry my hair and get a manicure. I guess some backsliding is inevitable. All I know for certain is that I experienced a trip of a lifetime and if I am fortunate, I will have many more lifetimes just like this one.

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