The Ride

by Carlos B

Its a cool night in the beautiful Arizona desert. Dressed in full black leathers, I back my bike out of the well-lit garage and into the night. With one graceful move, I swing a leg over and settle into the custom leather saddle. I check the mirrors, then reach for the key that brings my 6-cylinder Valkyrie to life. I pause at the end of the driveway and ask the Lord to watch over me this evening and to get me home safe. I now leave the city lights far behind, their twinkles ever so small in the mirrors of the bike. I now again get the feeling that I am doing what I was born to do. As the distance between me and the concrete jungle grows, I can feel the night air getting cooler. The sky is crystal clear with a million stars looking down on me. The unity from the light of the full moon and the headlight of the bike, illuminate the road in an eerie way. The smell of desert wildflowers and greasewood bushes fill the cool night air and somewhat mesmerize me. Through the small towns of Cave Creek and Carefree I ride, noticing, that at this time of night, they are like ghost towns. Down the twisting high Sonora desert road, keeping watch for the animals of the night, I head for home. This has been another pleasurable night for me. Now I relax, the ride, just a dream.


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