Go West Young Man!

32 Days and 5,536 Miles On My Vintage Motorcycle

October 19th

For a month I pushed nature into an unprecedented period of agreeability, but on the 32nd day she finally pushed back. Through Dallas I tread softly over the very spot, marked by a gruesome X, where President Kennedy was assassinated. By the time I reached the Arkansas border a nagging cold had set in and began nipping at my exposed hips. Lustful stares from girls won't keep you warm in low rise denim jeans. Soon night set in and the cold became a propellant for my mind, sharpening the edge of my determination to get home.

When the Little Rock skyline finally appeared in the horizon, acute angles perfectly stamped through the dim sheet of twilight, I smiled. The distant, familiar buildings quickly became my neighborhood and a mile wide grin spread over my face. But that smile escalated into weak laughter and my vision blurred with exhausted tears. Over a month ago I predicted my house would look different as I approached from this opposite end of the street. I was wrong though. Our little corner home appeared unaltered in reality and memory.

It was the road that was different.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

an inspiration.

KernCountyKid said...

Thank you!

Post a Comment