Written January 2011- GDL, MX
Tonight I left my Bike with Jorge here in Guadalajara. As I rode these lonely streets through Los Arcos and past the cathedrals in Centro I found myself getting choked up and even shedding tear over this machine that I love. 60,000 miles over the last 3 years together, and now I was walking away and leaving her in the hands of a friend.
I began to think about the wind swept prairies of Canada, freezing rain and snow of the Rockies, 112 degrees heat in Texas, the thunder storms of Nebraska, and never feeling alone because as I with my bike. There were the nights of camping on the beaches of Baja, the badlands of North Dakota or the mountains of Eastern Oregon, always next to that bike. I can remember having a broken heart and just riding through mountains on that summer night, feeling a little better with every mile that I rode.
Sometimes I have gone days traveling without ever having a real conversation with another human, many times my only conversations were with my bike. Riding through the mountains in Canada, all of my gear soaked I would ride with one hand resting on the engine block just to feel a little heat and say,
“Only 3 more hours, we can do this…right? We’ve done worse.”
In the dead lands north of Monterrey Mexico the sun was dropping fast and because of low funds I was on the free road.
“Come on babe don’t let me down tonight, it’s gonna get scary out here.”
Together we always came out ahead.
As I got close to Jorge’s house I found myself talking to that machine again, “I am coming back, I promise.”
Before I walked away I took my knife and retrieved the bell that hangs under the handlebars and put it my pocket. I will hang it back on my bike when I return.
El Charro Romantico
