Meandering

Life has been stressful for months now, at a sustained high level which becomes harder to manage the longer it wears me down. Fortunately it’s situational, and Fee and I simply have to weather the storm. I watched a documentary last week in which a Vietnam Veteran said, "If I didn't ride bikes, I'd have blown my head off by now." I took that man's words as advice and, hail or shine, on the first day I had free I spread my wings. North on the Hume to Wandong, then Broadford to Yea, lunch, then north via Highlands into the country I love. And this time I was determined to return to meandering on farm roads, where I best experience quietude and peace. This sort of riding has become my favourite: cruising along at 40kph, nervous about the surface of the dirt road here and there, but at peace with the world because I'm in motion in a beautiful place.

There were animals about: echidnas, wombats. This fellow met his end on the sealed road by the Goulburn River bridge.



Near Caveat I took on a new dirt road.







I did laps of my favourite sealed routes, exiting and later entering them via dirt roads, ending up at Longwood where I had coffee at the pub. As a train rolled past I thought about jumping aboard and fundamentally changing my life, following the way of the hobo. Instead I sat absorbing the quiet warmth, renewed by my soul-washing motorcycling. Nothing makes me feel the way that I feel when in motion on a motorcycle in a quiet, beautiful place.

I finished the day by riding from Yea to Whittlesea then, leaving my map unchecked, I ranged across unknown small roads north of Melbourne, eventually reaching Eltham and the fast route to home.