In My Brain... Day 2

Part II, Day II

10:45 AM  Starved Rock State Park, Northern Illinois

"Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child’s balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying

Pointed threats, they bluff with scorn
Suicide remarks are torn
From the fool’s gold mouthpiece the hollow horn
Plays wasted words, proves to warn
That he not busy being born is busy dying

Temptation’s page flies out the door
You follow, find yourself at war
Watch waterfalls of pity roar
You feel to moan but unlike before
You discover that you’d just be one more
Person crying

So don’t fear if you hear
A foreign sound to your ear
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only sighing"--- Bob Dylan

So glad this one showed its beautiful face on the playlist today as we clipped north. I love this one.  I was first introduced to it through the soundtrack to the movie "Easy Rider".  Try to find me a biker that has no kinship to that movie... yeah, good luck.  Today's ride so far has taken us along the banks of the Illinois River, again totally reminiscent in this romanticised imagination of mine of that seminal movie. 

"As some warn victory, some downfall
Private reasons great or small
Can be seen in the eyes of those that call
To make all that should be killed to crawl
While others say don’t hate nothing at all
Except hatred"

There's a great scene in the movie that occurs right after the riders are "encouraged" to leave the small Louisiana cafe where they had stopped to dine.  They end up setting up their camp along side the road (another lost art) and are pontificating with a bottle of cheap bourbon and a joint by an open campfire.  George, Jack Nicholson's character is in  discussion with Billy, played by the great Dennis Hopper...Check it out....

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Times have changed since those days, but how much really?  Let's talk about freedom.  All of us do.  They spout about it to us on the TV, especially during election time, about what it means.  Who really knows what it means.  How many of us are truly free?  Free to make our own decisions.  Free to chart our own course, to do with our lives what we wish.  I worry about the definitions of freedom that my children might espouse.  Do they know what it means to truly be free?  Do I for that matter.....

Evening.....

Made it to Milwaukee.  What a city.  What a feeling for those of us that love these motorcycles.  More on that love in days to come.  But what a ride to get here....

"For them that must obey authority
That they do not respect in any degree
Who despise their jobs, their destinies
Speak jealously of them that are free
Cultivate their flowers to be
Nothing more than something they invest in

While some on principles baptized
To strict party platform ties
Social clubs in drag disguise
Outsiders they can freely criticize
Tell nothing except who to idolize
And then say God bless him

While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society’s pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he’s in"-- Bob Dylan

Thinking back, as we rode, on the trek of Captain America, Billy and football helmeted George as they made their way to Mardi Gras... As I said, times are different.  Our society does at least a bit seem more tolerant of the fringe of culture (which all of us who ride motorcycles either live, or deep inside, aspire to live) but there is still that distrust of the "mainstream"... The cager, the non-rider. We see him in his car as we pass him, or as he tails us just a little too close for comfort.  We see the look in his eyes.  Often I wonder what lives in that look... Is it jealousy? Jealousy that he is wrapped in his world of structure that wouldn't let him dream of a life with a little danger, a little adventure.  Perhaps it's fear.  Perhaps it's apathy.  Envy. 

I'm not talking of every driver.  Often I can spot a motorcyclist as he drives his car.  He has that look of longing, wishing he or she were with us.  There is an aura of respect and love that radiates... an extra couple feet of room off the bumper.... a wave, perhaps.

I'm talking about the guy who seems not just like he's not paying attention to the fact that we have a right to the road as well, but the one that seems to be out to get us.  Maybe this is why motorcyclists wave at each other as we pass... we get each other.

"And if my thought-dreams could be seen
They’d probably put my head in a guillotine
But it’s alright, Ma, it’s life, and life only"--Bob Dylan

Safe and sound at the Iron Horse Hotel, my favorite hotel anywhere.  It was good seeing my friend, Steve Piehl.  Steve has worked for Harley longer than about anyone else I know.  That's comforting to know that there are folks with Steve's history still at the helm of the ship.  I am a lover of the machine and the brand.  I don't take it for granted and neither do people like Steve.  Thanks brother, and let me express the thanks of others that strive for an authentic experience. 

Time to call it a day.  Great ride.  More adventure tomorrow.

By the way, I 'd have a hard time thinking of a better song to blare while riding than "Honey Bee" by Lucinda Williams.  Try it and I dare ya not to speed up and weave just a little.  Just a side note.

Ride Safe and with Purpose...

SMB