Winter Plans ...?

The winter months pass by slowly for a motorcycle enthusiast, at least those of us who live in northern climes where there is precious little good riding weather between Novemeber and March. The winter can be a trying period, where ones patience is tested while waiting for riding season to return once again in spring.

In order to pass this time there is always the exercise of "Planning". That is to plan the upcoming summers trip(s). To look over the map and decide where you want to go, and when you want to go there. And what you may want to see once you arrive.  This activity is a fine way to spend those cold months waiting. And to get organized and ready to go is an excellent exercise, albeit a wasted one often.

What I mean is that once a motorcyclist actually gets on the road..the plans are subject to change almost immediately. I realized this on some of my early adventures. That a perfect plan is often useless once you actually get moving. This phenomenon seems  to only affect my motorcycle travels however , as when I travel by car, train or plane the schedules are fixed and firm. The flexible nature of riding a motocycle is what really allows for this variance.  The very act of traveling by motorcycle is by nature one of defiance and rebellion to the conventional. When most people want to go somewhere they choose more safe, and comfortable means of transportation - within the common guidelines of everyday society. A motorcycle enthusiast decides to operate outside those boundaries and ride a less safe, and often less comfortable vehicle.  This simple decision of conveyance is one of style, substance and conviction.   Not so much that one has to act outside the societal behavioral acceptance (lawlessness?), but wide enough of the norm that the rider can take price in choosing the road less traveled....

The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.