Memories, the green and gold, the empty expanse, the mountains, the hills, the blur of the surface melting past, the sunlight, the wind, always the wind, the pur of the engine, the pull of power, the decel, the stops, the casual conversations, the silence amidst the sound. Memories layered on memories of riding. The feelings evoked by the freeze frame memories, damn, what we do is a wanton mistress who never knows respite.

Better get a ride or two in this weekend.