The Satisfaction of Just Doing It

I went out for my first long-ish ride of the year on the Harley yesterday. It was a sunny, beautiful and hot day here in the Chicago area. We went out early to avoid the worst of the heat, but when it’s 80 degrees at 9 am, there’s only so much you can avoid.

Our Memorial Day ride took us along Route 6’s back roads as we headed towards Starved Rock State Park. I was nervous for about the first 40 minutes or so focusing on making sure my turns weren’t too wide, that I wasn’t taking a curve too fast, that I was giving enough space between me and my parents on their bike, that I could control the bike when the sideways wind gusts blew past. I wasn’t allowing myself to enjoy the ride. I was too much in my own head.

There are two ways into Starved Rock—one road from the east, which climbs up a very curvy incline and down a very tight curvy descent around rock walls, and one road from the west, which just takes you straight into the parking lot. Without being told, I knew which road my father would want to take—it was his test for me. I can’t adequately describe the fear I felt, all the while telling myself “you can do this, you can do this.” I shifted into second gear, I looked ahead into the sharp turns and I made it through the first round of curves, then I let out a deep breath not realizing that I had been holding my breath the entire time. Then the second round of curves came and I made it through those, and the third round came and I made it through those, each time letting out a deeply held breath. When we got to the top past all the curves, I smiled and felt so proud. I was finished, and I did it.

When we reached the entrance to Starved Rock, we learned that portions of it had been closed due to flooding on the Illinois River. I never made it down that steep descent around the rocks, and was more than a little relieved about it. 

On our way back home, there was one point where I had this sort of epiphany. I had just gone through a long curve and realized that I hadn’t coached myself through it. I didn’t tell myself to slow down a bit and look ahead and keep a tight line. I wasn't thinking about it anymore, I was just doing it. I also had this feeling along the way of being in total control of my bike and not letting it control me, which I realize sounds odd. I had to get out of the mindset of “what is this bike going to do” and change over to “what am I going to make this bike do.” It’s a significant difference. 



The royal wave, though lovely, is just not the same.



The other thing I’ll say about riding that I find particularly enjoyable is the motorcycle wave. From what I've seen firsthand, most motorcycle riders will wave at each other. What an incredibly friendly thing to do! Can you imagine if people walking down the street said hello or hey or nodded to everyone they passed? The wave makes me feel like a part of something special. That simple gesture from even the burliest of  bikers conveys a sense of community and belonging. It’s just one of those things that makes me incredibly happy.

In knitting news … I decided to start working on a very cute summer tunic from Classic Elite Yarn’s “Round Pond” booklet called “V-Neck Lace Medallion Tunic.” The only downside to it is that it’s knit in two pieces that have to be seamed (sigh). I considered reworking it into an in-the-round project, but I just didn’t have the time or desire to sit and figure all that out. I will just have to suck it up and seam.