Today There's Gonna Be a Jailbreak.

It was about 4:45 this afternoon. I had just returned from class and sat down to start some homework. I happened to glance outside and saw that the wind had died down and the street had dried off. I looked over at the thermometer and saw that the outside temperature read 62.3 degrees. I looked back at the computer and said out loud: "what the hell am I doing sitting here?!" I jumped up, grabbed my jacket and helmet and reported to my motorcycle.


I peeled off the cover for the first time in what seemed like years. I had almost forgotten what my Triumph looked like. Before I could tear up the streets, though, the tires needed a little air and the battery needed installed. Once everything was ready, I pulled the choke lever and hit the starter.

Magic.

The rhythmic idle of the British twin brought an instant smile to my face. It was like hearing the voice of an old friend, one you hadn't talked to in a while. I put on my gear while slowly reducing the choke. Once ready, I rolled the bike out of the garage, shut the door and then set my sights on the road ahead.

I took the long way around the neighborhood to warm the bike a little. It stumbled a bit as it was off choke a little early. When I got to the stop sign at the end of the street I was ready to go. I pulled out onto the street, gave the bike some throttled and got an immediate case of insta-grin. I had almost forgotten how much fun riding a bike is. I thought to myself "some people have a therapist, I have a motorcycle."

I had no real destination, I was out for a ride. I took the winding road I live off of to another winding road and rode the few miles to my former hometown of Aliquippa. I encountered some traffic but that didn't bother me. It's a 60 plus degree day in February, nothing short of a crash would bring me down. Almost like a sign from the heavens, the traffic disappeared as I got to the twisty sections. I focused all of my concentration on the rad ahead. I pitched the bike into the corner, used my hips to lift the bike and then set up for the next corner. I was awash in the experience. It reaffirmed my love for motorcycles.

When I entered Aliquippa, I turned down the street I used to live on. It's nothing fancy, just some homes built in 50's, owned by mostly old Italian families who take good care of them. When I got to the stop sign at the end of the street, a guy in a Subaru wagon was waving and honking his horn at me. My first thought was "great, what fell off?," but it turned out he just wanted to check my bike out. Not to toot my own horn(no pun intended) but, as a Bonneville owner, you get used to this. After a few minutes of talking, we said our goodbyes and I headed for home.

I turned onto a lovely road with a myriad of straights, turns and elevation changes that took me right to my house. It's like my own, private section of the Nurburgring. I rambled down the road at a brisk but moderate pace. There was still some dust on the road from the recent snow storms and I didn't feel like crashing. The best parts of the road are the last few turns before you reach my neighborhood. They start with a tight, downhill right-hand turn. The grade of the road angles a bit sharper as you exit the turn, which leads to a hairpin, left-hand turn. After this hairpin, the road leads to series of uphill esses. The crest of the hill drops down suddenly and then there is the right-hand turn into my neighborhood.

I again take the long way back to my house and then pulled in the garage. I sat on the bike for a few minutes, engine off, just thinking. It was just an 11 mile ride over roads I had traveled numerous times. I hadn't gone to someplace I'd never been before. No, this time, it was all about the ride. Call it cliche if you want, but it's the truth. After not riding since December 27, it felt good to be free. It felt good to feel the wind, hear the noises and smell the smells.