What will be, will be.
There are some instances in life that you just don't know if your gut feeling was right, or was stupid, or borne of fear or what.
Last weekend I slung my yoga mat over my shoulder and across my back, like some hippie anathema to a samurai sword, and hopped on the Sporty- South Austin bound.
I purposely take a non-stress route. Highway 29 is a four-lane road (I guess five counting the turn late) but is out in the country and offers little more than longhorn-speckled fields and rural businesses (think small engine repair, backhoe services, etc...). It's a nice ride in the daytime when suicidal deer must be sleeping. Then I usually take the even less inhabited end of Parmer Lane to Scott's house, 183 to Mopac (both scary secondary highways but fine on weekend mornings due to less traffic) and to the yoga hut.
But because Scott's place was not part of my journey, I had to figure out the best route. Parmer's kind of a pain in the ass because it's 65mph but with stoplights every mile or so. But I don't mind stopping and starting as much as I mind cornering. It still makes me nervous. I don't know how fast I can go safely but I don't want to go so slowly that I anger the (if not before-now) bike-hating motorist behind me and end up a smear on his front bumper. So I tend to travel in right angles- stop to turn situations.
I was driving myself crazy trying to think of a good route when I was seized with a fear that pleaded, "Go back! Go back!" Nothing amiss had happened. I was enjoying going at my own speed and feeling the connection with the road and the surroundings that only riding a motorcycle can offer. But I turned off of 183 on to 1325 and went home. It ended up being an hour ride just to travel in a big square that might as well have been a circle.
I wish there was a "choose your own ending" page I could peak at to see if my fate would have been different had I pushed ahead. Would I have died in a tangle of steel or would have just gained more much-needed practice and experience on the road. One never knows. I'm alive to ride another day, so my choice must have been, if not optimal, at least reasonable. But again- one never knows.
Last weekend I slung my yoga mat over my shoulder and across my back, like some hippie anathema to a samurai sword, and hopped on the Sporty- South Austin bound.
I purposely take a non-stress route. Highway 29 is a four-lane road (I guess five counting the turn late) but is out in the country and offers little more than longhorn-speckled fields and rural businesses (think small engine repair, backhoe services, etc...). It's a nice ride in the daytime when suicidal deer must be sleeping. Then I usually take the even less inhabited end of Parmer Lane to Scott's house, 183 to Mopac (both scary secondary highways but fine on weekend mornings due to less traffic) and to the yoga hut.
But because Scott's place was not part of my journey, I had to figure out the best route. Parmer's kind of a pain in the ass because it's 65mph but with stoplights every mile or so. But I don't mind stopping and starting as much as I mind cornering. It still makes me nervous. I don't know how fast I can go safely but I don't want to go so slowly that I anger the (if not before-now) bike-hating motorist behind me and end up a smear on his front bumper. So I tend to travel in right angles- stop to turn situations.
I was driving myself crazy trying to think of a good route when I was seized with a fear that pleaded, "Go back! Go back!" Nothing amiss had happened. I was enjoying going at my own speed and feeling the connection with the road and the surroundings that only riding a motorcycle can offer. But I turned off of 183 on to 1325 and went home. It ended up being an hour ride just to travel in a big square that might as well have been a circle.
I wish there was a "choose your own ending" page I could peak at to see if my fate would have been different had I pushed ahead. Would I have died in a tangle of steel or would have just gained more much-needed practice and experience on the road. One never knows. I'm alive to ride another day, so my choice must have been, if not optimal, at least reasonable. But again- one never knows.