motorcycles, travel, friendship, respect… I may drift off into WTF-land at times so hang in there.

My Freedom, My Salvation.

It’d been a tough day and Bluey knew it: She always knows.

She’s one of my best friends: Never offering an opinion or taking sides; she just listens patiently while humming her soothing one note song.

She’s the best shrink too, she only ever prescribes extended saddle time when things get a bit… overwhelming.

Today was one of those days.

She’d suggested a bit of extra saddle time and persuaded me to take the long way home; nothing too spirited, just a gentle roll through the hills.

In all honesty, it didn’t take too much persuading; it never does.

I mean, an opportunity missed is an opportunity lost right?

I already had my jacket on, my old Stagg, all I needed to do was put on my lid and slip my hands into my gloves. Soon enough we were on our way, and together we negotiated the afternoon traffic through the western suburbs of Brisbane.

In the distance we could see the hills that skirt the city come into view, they were dark from the shadow cast by the afternoon sun, but oh so inviting.

It was 16:45: We rode further.

The skyscrapers, traffic snarls and mobile phone junkies were soon replaced with neatly arranged houses with manicured lawns and open spaces with kids playing in them.

A dog gave chase as we meandered by.

Before long we were in the shadows of the hills and surrounded by trees. We could hear birds vying for a branch to settle in for the night and the open road lay ahead of us like a red bellied black snake sunning itself in the late afternoon sun.

Bluey began to purr.

She moved effortlessly through the hills, rounding sweeping corners and tight hairpins with equal amounts of agility and sure-footed-ness; and as promised she was gentle.

Never once raising her voice in anger, or lifting her head exiting a corner.

The sun dazzled us as we climbed the range. Shining so brightly, it hid all natures beauty momentarily. The road disappeared into a bright orange ball that hung low on the horizon.

It was 17:20: We rode further.

The road swept around the left and to the right, and back to the left again.

We crested a slight rise where the valley beyond the hills lay sprawling below us, presenting us with a breath-taking vista only nature can create.

Instantly, I forgot about my day, and where I was. I was so in awe of natures beauty, entranced by its ruggedness and it’s simplicity.

Bluey sensed I had found my centre and slowed to allow me to enjoy the moment. She led me to a small clearing, a parking lot overlooking the valley. In the distance we could see the dam that quenches the thirsty hordes that are Brisbane-ites.

We sat for what seemed like and eternity drinking in the afternoon sun and watching it set over the valley together, and as the sun disappeared over the horizon I thought to myself.

“This is why I ride”

“This is my freedom; this is my salvation”



20 responses

  1. Absolutely beautiful, superbly written. Cheers!

    Liked by 1 person

    October 28, 2015 at 1:10 AM

  2. Beautifully written *Experimental Ghost*! I really loved the way you expressed it all. I made a very similar post a couple of weeks back and I was at a loss as to how to put it across when I was actually writing it… 😅

    *Maryanne* and *Bluey* are probably the best doctors, therapists and friends in the entire world!

    Liked by 1 person

    October 28, 2015 at 1:42 AM

    • It’s a seriously hard thing to do when you’re not a professional writer and had no training in short story writing.

      Thanks for commenting – made my day

      Liked by 1 person

      October 28, 2015 at 8:14 AM

  3. Pretty hard to beat those moments.

    Love that last picture too.

    Liked by 1 person

    October 28, 2015 at 3:23 AM

    • That last photo was taken form Mt Glorious Lookout overlooking the Wivenhoe Dam. Beautiful spot at any time of day let alone late afternoon


      October 28, 2015 at 8:15 AM

  4. I’ve got a two wheeled friend like that too. Great isn’t it?

    Liked by 1 person

    October 28, 2015 at 4:05 AM

  5. Great story and beautiful photos!

    Liked by 1 person

    October 29, 2015 at 1:45 AM

  6. Bob

    Nice post, EG. Nothing like being alone with your two wheeled best friend and nature. Can’t be beat.


    October 29, 2015 at 7:54 AM

  7. And a car can’t do this… A drive simply cannot do what a ride can do–or not as well. Between the two, only a ride can reboot one’s spirit, restore one’s balance, repair one’s soul.

    Well-written indeed, Ghost. I’m glad the ride worked for you. And thank goodness for motorcycles. I declare: Were it not for riding, we’d all go mad–and not in a good way. 😉


    October 29, 2015 at 11:33 AM

    • Thanks for your words Ry. I took a real punt changing my style for this post… wasn’t too sure how it would come across.


      October 29, 2015 at 7:00 PM

      • Ghost, it seems that stepping outside our comfort zones is the best way to develop and hone our skills, whether we’re writing, riding, or wrestling alligators (or doing all three at once). Keep stepping outside that comfort zone, man.

        Liked by 1 person

        October 30, 2015 at 1:33 AM

  8. Just discovered your blog. Well written piece, Ghost. It seems like you explored your ‘experimental’ side by changing your writing style for this bit.

    Liked by 1 person

    October 31, 2015 at 6:58 PM

    • Thank you. Yes I’m full of surprises LOL. Thanks for stopping by and commenting


      October 31, 2015 at 7:58 PM

  9. When you put it this way – your love for the ride shines through. 😉. Great piece

    Liked by 1 person

    November 23, 2015 at 1:03 AM

  10. Pingback: Take The Long Way Home. | EXPERIMENTAL GHOST

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