Highway Love

You're riding along a narrow road, when you see a distant line of trucks approaching you.  You calculate the gap between the trucks and the kerb, slow down slightly and wait for the trucks to pass you. And as each one passes, you feel the familiar "whooosh" of wind hitting you, blowing your jacket back and threating to lift your helmet off your head. As you wait for the next truck to pass, you smile...you realize you love the highway!

You're riding on a curve down an open road, when you feel a blast of wind hit you from the side. "Crosswind" you think, and for the next several moments shift your body around in an effort to keep the bike perpendicular to the ground. You know in your heart that a heavy bike like the Royal Enfield will not lose its balance or be blown off the road, but that doesn't stop a stab of fear from passing through your heart. As it passes, you smile...you realize you love the highway!

You've spent all day riding down dusty, potholed country roads. Had hours of off-roading and passing through quaint little villages and fields. The downside, however, is that your butt is aching, you're sweaty and dirty with the faint smell of hay and dung in your nostrils. Suddenly you hit the open highway and accelerate. You see smooth road ahead, the wind is in your hair and doing a sixty feels like doing a hundred. You smile...you realize you love the highway!

You've had a night of debauchery. Gotten drunk, played the fool, said things you shouldn't have said and done things you maybe wouldn't have done otherwise. You wake up with a mild hangover, sip your tea dispiritedly and can't look at your food. You feel sick and wonder if this is what life is about. And then you hit the road. You notice the morning mist, the dew on the leaves, and the slick wet tarmac zipping past you. As you smell the asphalt and feel the wind on your cheek, you realize that life, after all, is as it should be. You smile...you realize you love the highway!

You're passing through a small, crowded town. The long wait outside a railway track barrier, constantly asking your way around, navigating around pedestrians and being stuck in a long traffic jam forcefully bring back all that you hate about the city. And then, through the mess of traffic, you see open spaces ahead. Your heart leaps, you navigate your bike into the last few gaps, and then suddenly, you're on the open road. You revel in the freedom, raise the throttle and feel your sweat magically disappear. You smile...you realize you love the highway!

You've been riding through pouring rains for the past several hours. You finally see a little teastall by the roadside and decide to take a break. You strip off your jacket and the teastall owner brings you hot tea. As you sip your tea, watch trucks ply on the rain-slicked road and listen to the owner talk about how he's seen only 2 Royal Enfields in the past two years, you realize that this is one of the few times you're actually content with your life. You're quite happy doing exactly what you're doing at that moment. You smile...you realize you love the highway!

Its past sunset and the road is getting very dark, very fast. You reach the next town in a hurry and hunt around in the darkness for a place to spend the night, only to realize that the town has just two lodges, neither of which you consider appropriate. As you're alone in the relative silence of your semi-clean, mildly smelly room, you feel you don't belong here. Then you realize that this place is, in fact, not you. The dirty room, the crackpot owner and the filthy town will all be as they are the next morning, maybe for all eternity, but this is just a brief pit-stop for you. You're not a part of this, and as long as you're moving, you're not really a part of anything. In several hours you'll be riding the open road and this town will only be a fleeting memory. You smile...you realize you love the highway!

You go into a deep trance thinking of all the above. You wake up to your surroundings with a start as you realize you're headed towards a stationary truck. Your odometer shows you've crossed 50km that you've no memory of crossing, and by some miracle you've not yet been splattered all over the asphalt. As you squeeze the brakes in a hurry, your bike squealing to a stop, you frown...you realize you better respect the highway!!