History Repeats Itself

I have been riding motorcycles for 44 years. Riding is a huge part of who I am and what I do. My wife doesn’t ride…ever. And it might be my fault. When we were dating I had a Suzuki Bandit. She agreed to go with me on a few day rides. I guess the reason she doesn’t ride anymore is a matter of semantics; we don’t seem to agree on what constitutes a day ride. A typical day ride for me is anywhere from 200-500 miles, depending on my mood. It includes, well, riding. Of course, I allow for the obligatory gas stops, which also double as lunch stops. When I ride, my meals consist of roadside coffee and protein bars and water from the gas stations where I fill up. I rarely ever sit down at a restaurant. I rarely ever ride with another rider, so there is no one along to adjust my agenda. I just ride. Well, my wife had something else in mind. She actually expected me to stop and feed her…at a sit down restaurant! Can you imagine?

The last ride we took together consisted of about 300 miles of backroads. Somewhere along the way she got tired of being hungry and made a comment. I gave in; I bought her ice cream at a Dairy Queen. She talks about that ride to this day, as the day I rode her all over Southern Indiana and never stopped to buy her a meal. That was 17 years ago.

I suppose I travel the same way no matter what type of vehicle I am driving. We traveled about 500 miles yesterday, Wrightsville Beach to Knoxville, TN. I had planned to stop at 12 Bones in Asheville for some BBQ. The place is your typical hole in the wall BBQ joint and it gets rave reviews. After we navigated through the River Arts District, we came around the corner of an old warehouse and there it was…with a full lot and a line out the door. As we pulled in the lot, I said, “I don’t want to wait in that line,” while my wife simultaneously said, “I don’t mind waiting.” In all fairness, the line was moving pretty quickly. However, I paid no attention; I was in travel mode. You know, the “We have to hurry and get where we are going so we can stare at the 4 walls of the hotel” mode. What a dope. We kept on moving, with me promising to find something soon. We didn’t. We made it all the way to Knoxville before heading downtown to eat our one meal of the day. I know, I’m a jerk. But look on the bright side; I bought her DQ at a gas station on the way!

Later,

Shep

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One thought on “History Repeats Itself

  1. My wife used to ride with me but never made the long rides with me. I like the 4 day journey to destinations unknown. She liked the two hour rides with with a 7 point agenda. Well after we had our two kids, she decided not to get on the bike again till they are over 18. Sometimes we are just built differently.

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