The passions people express of riding motorcycles has often been compared to a love affair. With the romance of wide open roads in the US and the freedom of being on two wheels it is not really too much of an exaggeration.
Even if it’s the commute to work, the experience is heightened by the smells of food cooking, the wind throwing rocks your way. The latter isn’t that great, but it happens. A few years back while breaking in a new engine I found myself going through spark plugs like crazy.
One day I needed to to change one out and get back to my office within the timeframe of my lunch break – not so great. No, I did not make it back in time, and yes I did have a socket wrench. A passersby offered help, which was a kind enough offer. That said they didn’t have the tools and I did, plus it was a hot day and I didn’t want to ask anyone else to be on the pavement with me. This love affair is not without its troubles.
Our recent writers meet up was a chance to get out on the road once again. (Cue Willy Nelson in my internal radio) It was perfect timing for my day job to get away and the roads were nice and dry.
I was reminded of how perfect HWY-1 is this time of year. The hills may be dry with drought, but that’s how they look in the California fall. No there are not tons of maple trees turning colors. How boring it would be if both coasts looked alike. I have been on this road many times in my life and it always looks great. After passing Santa Barbara the tune in my head changed to the sound track of The Graduate and I remember Dustin Hoffman’s character driving up and back from Berkley to Santa Barbara about a dozen times.
All of this reminded me of a painting I once saw and did not have the opportunity to buy. It was a student painting and at first glance I recognized that it was in fact the Pacific Coast Highway. There was the blue Pacific and the white sand along with the Oak trees and the hills. On further inspection the black and white lines of the highways formed the fingers, arm and later form of a woman. Her arm above her head, and the curves of the road traced her hips and legs all down to her toes. The rolling hills her breasts and the Oak trees were her hair. Her form was echoed into the landscape.
That image has long stayed with me and I often think how nicely the artist put that. I mean it is a good point. So while the weather is still good it is a great time to get out. The weekend we met up there was lots of other bikers out enjoying the same area. If it isn’t too cold where you are, the question is. If the road is your mistress, is it time to pay her a visit?