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Motorcycle Life: Living in the Space Between

When I think about something like a Muffler Man, a Futuro House, a Uniroyal Gal, visiting the thing itself is of course the payoff. Snapping photographs of their differences in comparison to others of their kind is something to ponder and take notice of. It makes fanciful imaginings tangible and keeps the fires of whimsy stoked.

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What goes largely unsaid about these roadside sight visits is that the ride to them is a thing. Sure, you see the result, the Instagram picture or blog post about whatever funky object was a destination but I don’t usually say all that much about how important the ride is to me.

I cannot say why, but I feel most at ease when I’m out seeking on two wheels. Of course I love my family and have a comfortable place to live but my personal, selfish, center is found in the saddle. That is the place where my thoughts come clear, they come honestly, unfettered, and uncensored. The saddle is where I take in places I may never lay eyes on again. That space between is filled with life.

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On Saturday morning, I took the ferry to Connecticut with 3 intentions: have breakfast at a diner, see balancing Yugos and frogs on thread spools. But I took in so much more than that along the way.

Some other random bits and notes about my day:

  • I took the ferry and sat in the lounge feeling self-conscious because of my squeaky boots
  • I sat in the ship’s cocktail lounge drinking coffee and wrote in my journal at the bar
  • Realized my right Gerbing glove isn’t working
  • Had a group of road constructions guys staring at my bike as I waited at a lane closure. Wondered if they thought it was cool or lame.
  • Rode past an amusement park my daughter took a trip to during the summer. It was nice to see something that she talked about.
  • Thought “I think I’ve been here before” several times, though I don’t think I’d been there before.
  • Ate at the diner counter at the Main Street Diner in Plainville, Connecticut. We’d just passed in the weekend prior on our way to an RV dealer. At the time, I felt bummed that we didn’t go there for lunch so my stop on Saturday made up for that.
  • I eavesdropped on the conversations. The way the sound carried you couldn’t help it. Plus, the ladies talking weren’t doing so in a whisper. Somebody’s on again, off again boyfriend got someone else pregnant. It was like real-life Days of Our Lives.
  • I saw a smiling man walking with a vacant stare and talking to no one that I could see. I wondered if that would be a nice way to exit this plane – going completely bonkers with a grin on.
  • I traveled Route 66. The other route 66.
  • Saw Yugos balancing on balls. Next to them were a couple flea market tables set up selling… “stuff.” I wondered how much of that stuff I would have to sell to make sitting in a vacant parking lot all day worth it. I also thought I have way too much stuff as it is.
  • I debated if I had enough time.
  • Saw a boulder with an eagle painted on it.
  • Also one with a snake.
  • There are parts of Connecticut that are much more farm-y than I thought. I saw llamas, alpacas, cows, goats, sheep, horses in coats.
  • After seeing the llamas I kept thinking “¿Como te llamas?” over and over again. My mind is like a skipping record at times.
  • Realized that drivers fixate on you when you’re parked on the shoulder.  I feel like their going to drive right in to you.
  • It’s very annoying that I can use Siri with voice commands but she still requires manual input to complete some requests. If I ask “How do I get to X” and get a verbal response of choices, why do I have to use my hands to make a selection out of the results? Why can’t I continue using verbal prompts? When your phone is in your pocket – and you’re using a bluetooth headset this is very annoying.
  • Why can’t Siri understand when I say “Willimantic”?
  • Would I be able to see the frogs on thread spools before the sun started going down?
  • Why are they on thread spools anyway?
  • And why frogs?
  • Maybe I should have googled this before I left.

In the space between there is so much that happens, so much life that gets lived and never spoken of.


 

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