She sits in a corner of my garage. Her plastic cover is in place. When I walk past her, I feel anger then sorrow. I feel I am abandoning her.
She was not created to sit in a corner of my garage. She was built to bring joy into my life.
She was built to take me down the road. To see what is around the next corner. To smell the air. To meet people at gas stations and rest stops.
Once, at a gas station, a father asked me if his 3-year-old son could sit on my bike. I picked the boy up so he wouldn’t hurt himself. The little boy leans over the gas tank and put his hands on the bars. His father took a picture.
I may be sentimental, but this touched my heart.
She was built for me to get hit between the eyes of a flying dragon.
She was built to safely take me through rain, snow, hail, and fog. She is sure footed.
Maybe, riders should form a support group. I think I’ll go to the garage now and sit on her and put my hands on the bars.
In the next blog, I’ll write about a hornet in my helmet.