Asphalt Comfort Food

It’s dark when I enter. A colorless void of hot humid air. Working my fingers up the wall, I fumble over a barely illuminated switch. Suddenly loud gears engage. Auditory movement. Then cool air rushes in. Light spills. My hand slightly trembles. And I pause, unable to remember the last time I did this. Here. From home. Slowly I head towards the backlit bike that’s being showered in blue tinted daylight. A strange sense of trepidation passes. As if this is the first time I’ve been here in quite sometime… And it has…

Almost three months to the day that I took the 1098S out for her third spin, I finally got the chance to open her up on SoCal roads for a fourth time.

To say that this bike has been unlike any other motorcycle I’ve ever owned is an understatement — Never before in my life have I purchased a brand new motorcycle and then just let it sit waiting to be ridden. As any long time rider can tell you, there’s a pain deep in your soul when you know that your bike has been neglected. It’s an ill feeling that is markably worse when you know that it’s a new motorcycle awaiting your return. A bike whom you barely know. And a motorcycle that you’ve spent months of your life waiting to arrive…
Yet sometimes life forces you to wait just a little bit longer and while I’ve been out gallivanting across the globe riding other folks motorcycles on tracks and country roads in foreign countries, the 1098S patiently sat by. Waiting for an opportunity to play. And yesterday was that day. The first time in what felt like an eternity when I was able to put aside the day to day requirements of life and work, and instead just enjoy a few hours of solitary daylight on a two wheeled chariot that continues to impress.

Flying up around Palomar Mountain, I found myself enjoying the moment, but also recalling the past several months. Visualizing the journey from start to finish once more. Sights and sounds of different engines and other types of asphalt dashed across my mind. And yet it felt good — really, really good — to be back home riding on my own turf, on my own motorcycle. It was the asphalt equivalent to comfort food. The kind of meal that evokes positive memories and lets you remember not only where you’ve been but also where you’re going.