Another season coming to a close

Another riding season is coming to a close. And again have not taken that week to ride around the country, camping in the state parks and private campgrounds. The riding season has not ended yet, and highs are still in the 70's, but the calendar is telling me that time is slipping through my fingers.

I will be riding to watch the Cleveland Browns today. Only around 130 miles round-trip. But better than nothing.

Update:
Took off at about 10am. The temps were perfect as I turned out of my community and took a run North. As I clicked through the gears, the stress fell away...those associated with family...those associated with work....those associated with self doubt. Soon, I was a modern cowboy riding an iron horse, charging into the day. The roads called to me, a siren's song to chase the horizon and leave all the pain behind.

All to quickly, I found myself close to Fricker's, and the friends that would be expecting me there. Reluctantly, I pulled off the highway, and into the parking lot. I was first there, and the waitress had our table ready and got the first of a few beers shared during the Brown's first win of the season.

The ride home found me in the same mood. The road called for a longer excursion; days? weeks? months? years? who knows. When I am on the bike, there is only "NOW". And the "Now"s follow each other ad infinitum...separated by a few meals, a few drinks of water, and a night's sleep. I felt myself drifting to an image of riding until I could ride no more. Then find an area where I could sleep for a few hours and continue the trip again.

But as I drew close to my home neighborhood, I made the right turn into the familiar streets and into the driveway and garage. The truth came back to me...I have responsibilities, a family, a job, friends. And those responsibilities mean I can not answer the siren's call of the open road. And in reality, that is OK. My family, friends, job mean so much more than the myth of the open road. Truly, I really have the best life.

And yet, there is Kermit in the garage, highway just a few hundred yards away, and I still hear that siren's call in the distance.