Requiem for a Sojourner

Picture credit:  Washington Post

Copyright © 2012 by Ralph F. Couey, written content only

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Requiem enim Peregrinus

Requiem for a Sojourner

Life on this earth is an existence bound by the limits of time and space.  Every journey has a beginning and an end, as does life itself.

Today you left home on your motorcycle.  And somewhere out on the road, your journey of life came to an end.

To a rider, a motorcycle is not just a machine.  It is the ticket to adventure; a way of leaving the mundane and passing through the musty wardrobe into a world where the possibilities are as limitless as the universe that surrounds us.  It was in that moment when you felt most alive that death took you away. 

We who knew you, who loved you, who shared the joy of your life now feel an empty ache, one that will never completely heal.  But in the midst of our sorrows, we take comfort that your last moments were ones imbued with that singular joy of a motorcyclist facing an endless horizon.  We will think of you when we are on the road.  We will think of you when we feel the urge to ride towards that horizon seeking places we’ve never been, things we’ve never seen, experiences we’ve never had.  

When the horizon calls to us, it will be your voice that we hear.

You now travel a road without limits on a journey of indescribable beauty.  You have nowhere to be and all the time in the world to get there.  Joy trails in your wake.  Peace lies ahead.   The sun is warm, the day is perfect, the road is wide open. 

Ride on, Brother;

Ride on.

Motorcycles and the Summer Heat

Copyright © 2012 by Ralph Couey

It was going to happen, whether I wanted it to or not. After becoming accustomed to the mild summers in the mountains of Western Pennsylvania for the last seven years, I now find myself in Northern Virginia, where they have REAL summers.

It’s been a pleasant spring. But today, on the first day of summer, temperatures vaulted from the delightful upper 70’s to near 100 degrees. With dew points in the 65 to 70 degree range, “sweltering” was the word of the day.

Days like this create something of a moral dilemma for this motorcyclist. Up north, winters run from mid-October to mid-May, so one is loath to surrender a riding day for any reason. Here, the warmer climes make a 10-month riding season possible, “warmer” of course being a term of some subjectivity. But in the same way I had to surrender to mountain winters, here I need to re-think my standards with regards to heat. I work in a shirt-and-tie environment and arriving for duty sopping and smelly doesn’t sit well with my co-workers. Thus, the hottest days find me in the air-conditioned comfort of a car with the bike in silent, but reproachful repose in the garage.
Some years ago, I did a trip to the southwest. Mid-July found me in Phoenix, Arizona, the land of triple-digit summers. I fully expected dry heat, but unbeknownst to me, July is monsoon season for the desert. That means the usual bone-dry air mass is replaced by a soupier tropical pattern. So not only was I faced with 114-degree heat, I also had to deal with Florida-like humidity levels. I learned a lot that day, not the least of which was the addition of Gatorade to my diet. That saved the trip, and quite possibly, my life.

Now faced with similar conditions, I thought it might be prudent to dust off some advice on riding in the heat.