BBG, Part Three: Joys of the Night

Part Three:  Joys of the Night

Few things compare to the joy of driving along the road tunnel created by your lights at night.  The horizon and peripheral distractions simply fade to black, and I feel incredibly energized and alive.  Rising over my shoulder was a half moon, and it made me smile.  I’ve given each of my kids a phase of the moon corresponding to the moon’s state on the day of their birth.  Turns out the rising moon was my oldest daughter’s, and I thought of her watching over my shoulder.  I loved the idea that she was sleeping peacefully as I explored the midwest on this adventure.

Do you sing in your helmet?  I do.  This time of introspection gets me to a state of what I call passive thinking.  The daily concerns fade like the scenery into blackness, and thoughts flow in and out as I focus on operating the motorcycle.  A thought that drifted in was the recent exhibit I was fortunate enough to take in with the family at the Smithsonian Museum of American History: The Star-Spangled Banner: The Flag That Inspired the National Anthem.  It’s an amazing exhibit, with the actual flag that flew over Fort McHenry after the Battle of Baltimore.  This led me to our national anthem...which led to, you guessed it, singing in my helmet.

It started softly.  With each iteration, the volume grew.  And grew.  And grew - until I was belting out the Star-Spangled Banner at full volume, drowning out the persistent wind noise and hum of that amazing inline 4, spinning along between 4 and 5,000 rpm.  I deafened myself as belted it out, time after time.  It was a stirring sensation, filling me with joy and amazement at this country that we are so incredibly fortunate to live in, and all of the events that have gone into its creation.

It also served to stave off the yawns and the hint of sleepiness which had started to roll in around the edges of my brain.  It’s always darkest just before dawn, so the saying goes.  For times like this, I keep a couple Tic Tac boxes in my glove box.  I raised up the stock windshield to full height, ducked behind it, flipped up the Schuberth, and loaded up on a mouthful of Tic Tacs.

The explosion of mint in my mouth brightened my brain as well as my breath.  It also gave my tongue something to roll around, and made every sip from the Hydrapak that much more invigorating.  Feeling refreshed, I pressed on across Illinois.

One of the most beautiful things I saw was Saint Louis - not the Arch, but the Stan Musial Veterans Memorial Bridge (not my photo - I was riding!):

It is simply gorgeous, lit up at night, brilliantly white, with no traffic as I crossed it around 04:00 CST.  In contrast with the eeriness of the blinking wind turbine farm, the magnificence of the bridge is magnified at night.  Just another reason why I love the darker hours - they cloak the distractions and irrelevance in darkness, allowing new perspectives into the beauty of the world around us.

As I rolled west of Saint Louis, I was now on an unfamiliar road - a place where I had yet to put wheels.  These are my favorite moments, filling me with delight, a sense of discovery and exploration, and heightening the flame of wanderlust.  I glanced over my shoulder - yes, my daughter’s moon was still there, much higher in the sky, still watching over me.  West into Missouri, with darkness’ time and my fuel state running out.