In Love

As Blackbird rounds the twisties, my legs grasp her sides, my hands lie limp on Highway's hips, my neck is loose, my torso taut, and my toothy smile extends ear to ear. Breathing deep, I drink in the turn, letting it wash the thrill over me. Slinging us from side to side, Blackbird eats up the road like a wildfire on the prairie.

Taking one car-free curve of the mountainside after the other, my heart pounds in my headphones with the screaming beat of Rush's Red Barchetta.

"Wind-
In my hair-
Shifting and drifting-
Mechanical music-
Adrenalin surge...

Well-weathered leather,
Hot metal and oil,
The scented country air.
Sunlight on chrome,
The blur of the landscape,
Every nerve aware."

A summer's road was meant to be shred, twisties were laid in the steep landscape for careening riders, and Highway was born to take me for a ride.

I'm in love ~ with the man, the bike, the road, the life.