Riding by the Half Moon

The chill is rushing up my sleeves, inflating the chest of my jacket. My head can barely turn from the collar pushing against the helmet. Someone has been screwing with my right mirror, because all I can see is dark sky. Can't fix it now, rolling at 70 mph, amid nighttime traffic.

The traffic on Interstate 15 is heavier than I expected for 10:30 pm on a Friday heading south into San Diego. Damn, I thought the 78 was packed after leaving Churchill's Pub in San Marcos, but this is slammed. After having dinner with Trampy Joe and Diane, who I've now renamed La Chuckles, it feels good to ride home, even though I'm freezing my ass off.

I gotta get these sleeves fixed so the wind doesn't pour in. This is ridiculous.

Drivers are more erratic, it seems, than afternoon traffic. Probably been drinking, or partying, if they're out driving right now. Not all of them, but the crazy ones who drift from lane to lane.

The buzz of cars, my V*Star, and my own pulse pound in my helmet with the music on my headphones.

Cause I'm as free as a bird now,
And this bird you can not change.
Oh... oh... oh... oh... oh...
And this bird you cannot change.
And this bird you cannot change.
Lord knows, I can't change.
Lord help me, I can't change.
Lord I can't change,
Won't you fly high free bird yea.

I want to pull the throttle all the way back, scream through the cars and own a chunk of road tonight. I want to push Gracie to her limits, but I refrain. I'm following Highway back to our rental. Just relax and enjoy the ride.

My thighs are freezing. Well, they don't feel that bad. Actually, I think they may be so cold I can't feel them now. I should have brought warmer gear. Why do I do that? Just bring a jacket. . . I have gear for Chrissake. . . Next time I won't forget.

Interstate 8 is approaching, so I better get into the right lane. That's going to be a challenge since I can't see out of this right mirror. Over my shoulder, once, twice, glide to the right.

I love this connector ramp, even though it scares the shit out of me. The turn is so deep! Damn, Highway must hit that at 75 mph. What, am I doing only 60? Lean, lean, look all the way through, lean. . . woooosh! There's that tickle in my tummy! Yeah, still scares me! Ha ha ha ha. . .

The 805 south is coming quick. Change lanes to the left. . . move over ASSHOLE! Fucking dicks who drive Mercedes. I used to drive a Mercedes. Oh shit, here's our turn.

I love the way the moon looks from the bottom of the connector ramp. Pretty half moon, bright as a spotlight, glistening in the dark sky. Up the bridge. . . damn Highway takes this ramp fast! Downshift to fourth gear, third gear. . . he's so far ahead, but this damn ramp scares me more than the other. Relax, bend those arms, lean, lean, lean, woooooooosh! God I love that tickle!

Couple of exits, come into quiet city streets, not a soul in sight around here. Guess that's what one would expect for residential. Gracie purrs along on these streets, roaring in first gear from Stop sign to Stop sign.

There's the rental. Just as we left it. I should have told Highway I wasn't ready to go back so early. I wonder if he wants to go ride just a little more. . .

I love riding in the moonlight.