As I "planned" out my trip, I was excited. Hitting the super slab (interstate) with just me and my motorcycle was a promise of joy unspeakable and full of glory. Although I was just hoping over to the mega-hospital 70 miles down the road, I was fantasizing of wide open place to let my Vulcan Mean Streak 1500 fly.The on ramp was an invitation. The traffic lines were the dance steps. The throttle my want for freedom over the stress and rules. It was a harmonic cacophony of bliss set to the tune of my tailpipe.
For the first hour. That's when I realized my poor planning. I hadn't stretched, so now my muscles were taunt, especially in my neck. I hadn't attached my windscreen, so now my forehead felt as though I had endured Chinese water torture. My freedom flight became plagued by my own grouchy nature. It's hard to get away from that on a motorcycle.
As a runner and motorcyclist I should have been able to use advanced thinking to avoid these problems. I should have been wise enough, mature enough, to recognize the dangers of these snares (and on a motorcycle, annoyances quickly become dangers as they sap your energy and attention).
I'm sure I'm not the only one who has lost out on promised joy due to bad planning. But hopefully by sharing, I can stop someone a little heartache down their road. My daddy told me once, "Learn from other's mistakes. You won't live long enough to make them all yourself."
I'm trying dad.
