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(I rewrote this from an earlier essay, if you've seen it before, I beg your forgiveness!)

:(





I took out mySilver Ghost, myST1300, for a mental health run some time ago.


The run took me thirty twisting miles along the upper Yakima River, a river known to be one of the best trout streams in America, and I encountered a total of perhaps four cars on the route. I idled slowly through the metropolis of Cle Elum, Wa, population 2500 or so, and then came back on the upper Peoh Point road, high above the river, with an uninterrupted vista of the storm-torn Mt. Stuart range on my left. Halfway home, the storm lowered, caught me, and I rode through first a spotting rain, then sleet, and then full-blown snow, just enough towhiten the road. I scared up a coyote in the mist, which tore across the highway with something alive in its mouth.


I have been experimenting with saddle position because of a old rotator cuff injury and repair, and I stopped in the driveway of a palatial home to adjust the seat again. Not far up the road is another huge estate, which belonged to a young businessman I knew, one of my former students as a matter of fact. Two years ago, this fellow, who had inherited both the business and the estate, removed all his clothing at 2:00 am -- and then stepped into the path of Dodge Ram pickup truck speeding by onInterstate 90. He didn't survive the incident.... left a young wife and two children. Suicide by truck......

I finished the ride recharged, with every sense alive, and extremely grateful for my bike, the road, my life......I believe it is the illusion of control, the illusion of omnipotence that makes biking so attractive. On every ride, I am able to make hundreds of decisions, some minor and some major, which effect the immediate quality of my life, and even the continuance of that life itself. For a moment, I seemingly have total control. I believe that the poor fellow who stepped out in the path of that truck that awful night felt he had none, no control over his circumstances at all -- except for his last, final decision. Tragic beyond words.......


Yes, I am very grateful for my bike, grateful for the meaning it lends my life, grateful for the reasons for living it gives me.
 

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If you did post this one berfore,,,,,,,, then I am ashamed that I missed it then, and very thankful I caught it now.

Your words arealways able to reflect what I am sure many of us feel. Thank you once again CJ.

And Hey,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, it's snowing here right now. But I hope to take the ole girl out for some crisp fresh air on Sunday.
 

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Mel, I rode Sunday. It was 32 degrees but I had to ride. Not another biker on the road and not many cagers either. After a few hours my fingers and toes started getting cold so I headed home. My spirit revived, mind clear and perspective on my life renewed. I will ride all year every chance I get until I can no longer get on my bike. Then I will do like my father did and reflect on all the good rides I had and how beneficial and theraputic riding is for me.

Bernie
 

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I too have found that a ride on a crisp morning recharges me. It erases the tension that has built through the week. It helps put things back in the correct perspective. It helps to cleanse my soul. I can feel myself become bent over during the week, tense and aggrivated. A weekend ride in the clears my mind and loosens the tight muscles of my neck. This weekend should be in the mid 30s but at least it will be dry. I will be out at some time to open my lungs and lift my head into the wind.
 

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do mental health runs now include an extra battery for peace of mind?
 

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I know just how you feel, if it weren't for riding I don't know how I would keep my sanity sometimes. I feel rejuvenated and totally relaxed after a good ride but disappointed that it's over but then I start thinking about the next one.
 

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My buddy just called and asked if I wanted to ride Sunday. I have to find a way to makesure I can now.
 

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i loved it. we all in our own way, use our rides to recharge, think, and reflect on things, on our life.
 
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