Taking the roads less travelled

Riding back home from a late afternoon coffee meeting with a friend, I decided to take my time and roll down some local country roads rather than take the direct route back to the house. The shorter December days meant an early sunset, so I was treated to beautiful colors filtering through light cloud cover, the glimmering sun setting peacefully behind, casting shadows across the wide open ranch lands of Georgia dairy country.

I love the long way home.

The older I get, the more I choose the circuitous route when I’m not constrained by time. Our world, and hence our lives, moves at such a fevered pace, we seldom consider the scenery we’re racing through, in our rush to wherever we think we need to be next. With the constant bombardment of information “noise” from every source around us, combined with life’s rush/crush, its little wonder our stress levels, anxiety, even depression are at record highs.

A glorious December sunset in north Georgia. Yamaha MT-07, REV’IT! Liberty H2O heated gloves.

We need to slow the pace sometimes, catch our breath, and “smell the roses” so to speak. I’m endeavoring to do that more as I age, and a motorcycle is the perfect vehicle for the practice. It’s making a big difference in my life and well-being.

My friend Lyle and I met for lunch recently in the small, historic town of Monticello, Georgia. The town is a good two hours or so for both of us, at least by the routes we like to take. Lyle lives southwest of metro Atlanta, while I live northeast of the city. Rather than a direct route, which could’ve saved me a good 30 minutes, I took a state and county roads route which led me over hill and over dale down to the old town. We enjoyed a hearty southern fried lunch at a local diner, as well as some enjoyable conversation, then spent the early afternoon roaming the town and its shops on the city square.

Rob and Lyle outside a little “mom & pop” diner in Monticello, GA. Meltivo heated underjacket (Rob).

Lyle took a more direct route back to his place, but I decided to meander for a bit, even if it meant getting back a little after dark. I wandered nearly empty back country roads, stopped along the way to rescue a box turtle that had parked itself in the middle of a street, and spent a few minutes chatting up a gas station attendant in the little town of Oxford. The day had darkened and the temperatures had fallen by the time I got home, but I didn’t mind. My soul had been refreshed, my mind cleared, and my body relaxed as I rolled back into the driveway. Lisa had the front porch lights and Christmas lights on, and was waiting for me at the door. The perfect ending to a wonderful day.

I must make margin for more of these kinds of days. I think we all should.

One mid-December afternoon, the wife sent me on a short “honey-do” run up town for some Christmas gift cards. I of course chose to ride, this time selecting the small Honda SCL500 we still had on loan. The perfect bike for negotiating small town traffic, the little scrambler is also ideal for detours on the way home. Riding back out of town, I veered southeast away from the suburban sprawl and out into open country still dotted by gently rolling hills covered in horse and cattle pastures. I passed a small neighborhood at one point and noticed what appeared to be a father and daughter decorating the front entranceway with lights and wreaths. The little girl turned and waved enthusiastically as I rode by, so I gave her a wave back and a beep on the horn, to which she clapped as I viewed in my left rear mirror. Returning home, Lisa quipped, “That took longer than expected. Have any trouble finding everything?” I replied with a wry grin, “No trouble at all.”

A more meandering route home. Beautiful.

Whether during the beautiful holidays, a cool spring morning, or even a lazy summer late afternoon, I’m finding unexpected gems nearly everywhere, every time I venture wide rather than taking the direct route. The breeze filling my face and my lungs as I cut through the air, the thrill of forward motion while manipulating a two-wheeled machine, and the sights, sounds, even smells of the open roads and spaces I roll through, make meandering such a satisfying joy.

So here’s to all you wanderers like me, all you rambling souls who love the long way home. May we always prefer the roads less traveled, and savor the flavors life shares with us while we ride the dirt or pavement, taking the indirect paths.

Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays!

Rob