Destinations Unknown

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The kind of road that feels like walking through the house you grew up in. When you can walk through the house in complete darkness and not bump into anything, you have become one with it.

How can you write about motorcycles and not talk about the many roads we travel. Bikes and roads go together like the whole peanut butter and jelly thing, only we get more out of getting lost on a back road than getting lost going to the kitchen. Just as these highways we ride take us to destinations unknown, they will also take us to places so familiar that we can see them with our eyes closed. The kind of road that feels like walking through the house you grew up in. When you can walk through the house in complete darkness and not bump into anything, you have become one with it.

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Have you taken a road you know you’ve never been on only to be convinced you’ve ridden it before? The scenery is vaguely familiar, the signs jump out at you as though its something you’ve already read, but you know deep down you haven’t been here. A classic case of deja vu perhaps? Maybe. It’s more likely a case of Biker’s Perspective. If you ride far enough you will eventually see how the landscape is put together. Rolling hills and green valleys with barns and silos dotting the scenery will eventually take you to either mountains, with their pine trees and elevation changes, or south to a drier climate with the road stretching out as far as you can see. Almost as if we are on a Hot Wheels track randomly snapped together to take us to the best places on earth. Just as long as the road doesn’t do a loop, we’ll be okay.

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One thought on “Destinations Unknown

  1. In 2012, my big cruiser had been causing me problems so Triumph extended my warranty a year. Toward the end of that time, I wanted to put the bike to the test and make sure it really was mechanically sound. So just about this time 3 years ago, I spent 3 days riding 1500 miles from San Diego to America’s Lonelist Highway…Highway 50.

    Although I didn’t have the feeling of deja vu, I felt immediately at home, comfortable with every mile of the lonesome road. I felt that I belonged there; the bike belonged there.

    When I pulled off the very straight road to rest or snap a photo, the almost complete silence was welcome. I felt a kinship with the road and didn’t want the ride to end.

    Nice write-up, Jeff, as usual!

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