Hey. Maybe Just a Smile.

It's been weighing heavily on my mind that I haven't been doing any solo riding lately. The last solo ride that really sticks out in my mind is my Savannah trip in Nov 2009. That was a long time ago...

Why don't I ride on my own more?  Well, I have one of those more unique situations in that my husband also rides.  Therefore I have a built in riding partner.  And since we don't work weekends we don't have any scheduling conflicts.  Many people with standard riding partners have to negotiate a ride destination, meet location, meet time, wrap up time, etc.  We merely wake up in the morning, look at each other and ask "Where do you want to go?"  Of course, I should point out that this doesn't automatically make life easier and give us all the answers.  Quite often the response from one of the other of us is "I don't know.  Where do you want to go?"

The point is that 99% of the time I have an automatic riding partner.  It is difficult to say that I want to ride to ride alone today.  Generally I enjoy his company and don't necessarily feel compelled to ride alone.  However, I believe it is very important for women to ride alone every once in a while.  Of course, some of my female blog buddies don't have a choice.  SonjaM jumps immediately to mind as a strong female rider who regularly rides solo for various reasons.

Mr. Oilburner and I belong to a couple of riding groups.  Not necessarily to ride with, but definitely to get together to chat with and relive wonderful or harrowing riding moments.  But I belong to one other that Mr. Oilburner doesn't, and that is a women only group.  I have only been on one ride with them and enjoyed it.  It is liberating to remove the testosterone from the equation. While walking around at our destination, or eating lunch, we giggled and had the chance to get a little catty, but in a nice way.  :)  Just being with girlfriends that all happen to ride.

On a regular group ride I have typically been the only girl, or the only girl riding my own bike.  To be honest I actually take pride in that at times.  I don't ride with a "soft" crowd and enjoy being "one of the guys."  Tough enough to hang out with this crowd without them having to tailor rides to my riding abilities or slow down for me.  Sometimes that is scary as I push my limits.  But it also helps me to grow.

I grew up a tomboy.  I climbed trees, rolled in the mud with the dogs and felt fidgety when put in a frilly dress.  I can hold my own in most male pissing contests, figuratively speaking.  But I do have the inkling that they may still be holding back a little around me.  I think the boys can get much raunchier when they get together then us girls give them credit for.  So sometimes I may "cramp" their style a little.

All of this helps to round out my riding experiences.  But there is something important to riding alone.  I knew this as I was learning to ride and forced myself outside of my comfort zone.  My very first solo ride occurred after work one day.  I wanted to overcome my fear of rush hour traffic, riding alone and riding alone in it.

I'll let you in on a little secret.  I was not one of those people that just hopped on my first bike and immediately started riding 50 miles.  A four mile day had me worn out from the stress of turns and cars and stops on hills.  My "practices" including riding down one of three neighborhood roads to the church parking lot.  The lot literally circled the church.  Eureka!  No U-turns!  :)

By the time of my first solo ride I was probably up to 40 miles rides.  Big whoop now, but that was huge back then.  So I saddle up, with butterflies in my tummy, and realize I need fuel.  Yay...  :(  There is nothing like self-imposed pressure to not fuck up when witnesses are around.  And we usually fail at looking cool or being inconspicuous.  This was my first, and so far only, time that I have forgotten to put the kickstand down on my bike.  (Thank goodness it was the crappy Suzuki.)  While Mr. Reipe has written more eloquently about his experience, I only strained the muscles in my back successfully preventing an all out drop.  I managed to save the bike and learn two valuable lessons.  One:  Remember to PUT THE DAMN KICKSTAND DOWN! Two:  If the bike is going over LET THE DAMN BIKE GO!

Ok.  In 99% of the situations that may be good advice.  I can think of a couple where self-preservation will kick in and prevent your brain and body from giving up. One: your gonna go ass over tea kettle down a slope.  Two: your inexpensive little bike going down will go right into a very expensive bike or car that is worth more than your life.  I decided to screw the fuel and continue on my way.  I would probably only be going 5 miles anyway...

I survived the journey with one other near drop negotiating a u-turn. Once you mess up it really can be difficult to clear your head and convince yourself it isn't going to continue on like this.  But I did survive and learned many valuable things.  I love that it teaches me that I am stronger, mentally, than I think and that I can actually accomplish what I set my mind to.  (Now if I could recognize that I can do this for others things in my life!)

Back to the present. Circumstances aligned and i was going to be left to my own devices a weekend or so ago.  The weather was perfect, the sun was shining, I couldn't not go for a ride.

Where to go??

Unfortunately, I am one of those destination oriented people.  I love the journey, but need to have a destination to travel towards.  I don't have to actually make it to the destination, but it gives me a direction.  And I couldn't think of one darn place that I wanted to go.  The Georgia Tag was 600 miles (966 km) round trip away.  The North Georgia Tag was in some heavy-duty dirt.  And I didn't want to go to the motorcycle show in Greenville, SC.  Dilemma.

I forced myself to the group breakfast for the people meeting to ride to Greenville for the show.  I know that if I didn't actually leave the house that the chances were very good that I wouldn't leave all day.  Breakfast was good, having the chance to catch up with someone I hadn't see for a year.  And there was some good-natured ribbing of someone and his pink phone.  Everyone tried to shame me into riding to Greenville.  The pressure was very easy to resist.  

There was still the problem of "where to go" as I watched the troop ride off.  I'm pretty sure most people have a "fallback" location they come up with when asked to quickly identify a favorite place, off the top of their head without thinking.  What would you name?  My fallback location is Homer, Georgia.  I just like the name and all of the roads leading to it.  Homer it is.

I jumped on the interstate just to clear the jumble of stop lights and people of the city.  But I jump off the interstate at a location that will take me into the rural areas.  I keep an eye on the GPS just to steer me in the correct direction, but not dictate how to get there.  Since I don't ride alone regularly, I have found there is a "clearing" process that takes place.  Suddenly that "little voice inside my head" that is Mr. Oilburner is gone.  I am going to have to do my own thinking!  What do I want to think about??  But relaxing into the ride is easy.  Just let the mind wander in its thoughts and enjoy the scenery.  Today, the struggle to decide to stop and install my liner to combat the windchill is my struggle alone.  Don't get me wrong, this also isn't easy.  I am stubborn and can be even more stubborn when it is myself I have to fight with.  :)

It turns into a successful day.  I stopped to put my jacket liner in and was happily surprised to find myself here:

If I hadn't stopped I wouldn't have recognized it, traveling in the direction that I was.  If I hadn't stopped I would not have taken the unknown road to the East.  If I hadn't taken the Eastern road, I wouldn't have come across the church house:

I rode through Homer and just started making my way home again.  I turned into all of the back roads.  Saw McMansions next to burned out husks of old homes.  I saw Spring Daffodils and men on their John Deere garden tractors tilling their land.   I saw young kids playing in front yards.  And I didn't once have a Stephen King moment.

Yeah.  It was a good day to reconnect with myself and force myself to make my own decisions.  But I was also responsible for this relaxed and tranquil girl that was headed home with a smile on her face.