To make a turn, I look as far as I can see through the turn, focusing on the road ahead, until I am all of the way through the end. Perhaps a glance in the mirror from time to time, but I'm focused on the road ahead. If there is a pothole or an obstacle in the road, the motorcyclist must focus their attention on the safe road, away from the obstacle. Look where you want to go and you will be there, before you know it. We have lapses of self pity, lose sight of our goals and our dreams, and fall into despair.
I don't stare at the things I pass, I don't stare at the road I'm on. If I want to pass between two objects I focus on the sliver of road I want my wheels to travel until it is behind me. This proves to be incredibly difficult, for all of us. Don't focus on the obstacles, but simply let them pass by. We see only the rain and cry because we cannot ride the day we planned to.
I knew this would probably put a real dent in our budding relationship, but I had to make a choice for my own sanity.
As soon as we hit the first turn, I told myself that wasn't fear I was feeling, it was a thrill.
It's a clamoring string of twisties, always riddled with cars and motorcycles, famed for the many lives it's turns have claimed over the years.
Along the ocean, over the mountains, lane splitting traffic, through familiar roads and a few unfamiliar ones. Our first full-day ride we headed to the Ortega Highway, California Highway 74.
As we headed towards "The Ortegas" that sunny day, I made a decision.
Boundary lines should be drawn in permanent paint, not sidewalk chalk.
On the short jaunts about town I clutched him tightly, terrified something bad would happen.
I had ridden with others many times over my life but after so many years away from it, I was surprised that it frightened me so much.
Josh was not a straight “A” student but he studied hard to get good grades.
He was well liked by his teachers and other students: polite, smart, funny and respectful.