Hearing the Call

Sitting on my back porch, I can hear my neighbor’s air conditioner and not much else. It’s a fairly quiet neighborhood. Still, we are just the right distance from a fairly busy two-lane road where I can hear traffic on it. Sitting on my back porch like this, when I hear an American V-Twin accelerate, my heart wakes up. There’s a part of me that instantly asks “Why aren’t you out riding too?” as if there is nothing else to do in life.

I have even talked to some people who called this the true definition of being a biker: that soul-stirring sound when you’re not riding, you hear an engine, and it takes everything you’ve got not to run out and join them. I save extra money with the dream of retiring early. I dream and wonder what life would be like if I had no job to go to, and my wife and I could just do whatever we want all day, every day, as long as there are days. I wonder, in such a world, if I could ever be content with any amount of riding? Will there ever be a time in the future where I could be sitting on my back porch and hear that engine and feel as though I did not have to join them because I had ridden recently enough. I question if such a state exists, and if so such a feeling must be short-lived. Either way, I hope to reach a place in life where putting this to the test is possible.

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