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Common Sense, Ain’t So Common

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Common Sense, Ain’t So Common

So this week I had to get my new bike from Louisiana back to Dallas. Simple, right?

No problem I told my wife, I’ll drive it there.

The small voice in the back of my skull whispered, “You’ve not been on a bike in over 20 years.” I dismissed that little voice.

It then said, “It’s about 525 miles, and it’s already 3:00 pm,” pesky voice spoke out. So what I thought.

That little voice tried again, “It’s getting cool out and you don’t have the proper gear.” I’m tough, I shrugged.

“Suit yourself,” that voice jeered and wasn’t to be heard from again.

So I wedged the half-faced helmet over my head and grabbed a borrowed jacket to head out on my maiden voyage. About 10 miles west of my start, I felt the first sting of what would become millions of sharp-as-arrow rain drops. The helmet did nothing to block their assault.

Soaked to the bone, I slowly swung around the longest exit ramp in the world and eased onto a water-logged gravel shoulder. The new rain suit I should’ve had ready was shoved under a ton of junk in the saddle bag.

Over the next 515 miles, I eventually dried off once the storms ceased. And the little voice’s weather report came to mind as it grew steadily cooler until the uncovered tips of my half-fingered gloves felt the chill.

I had also borrowed a full-face helmet that was two sizes too small. Out of desperation, I squeezed my noggin inside that shell and drew relief that I’d escaped the wind-whipping massacre that an 85 mph average brought.

Over eight hours, a Snickers and a Milky Way bar later, I sent my wife the most treasured message of our entire marriage, “Open Garage Door”

I parked the bike and eased into the bedroom without much more than smiles and groans. She just looked at me like an intruder had invaded our home. I couldn’t have been more proud at that moment for having just completed the adventure. Not because it was over, but despite the sensible alternatives, I set my mind to something and no matter how uncomfortable it was at times, I persevered.

The last thing I heard was her saying goodnight. But then I listened through the buzzing of my ears, and heard it again. It was that same small voice from earlier in the day.

I tensed for the taunting I told you so.

Instead, it laughed, “Good journey, dude. I knew you could do it.”

#Journey #Touring #Highway #Texas #HighwaySafety #commonsense #Raingear #Motorcycle #Dallas #Perseverance #adventure #Travel #Louisiana #HarleyDavidson

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