Ortega Release

The Monster on CA-74

Clouds are forming in the distance and my bones are aching for a smoke as I pull off the road. Twisting the key, the bike ceases to breath and for the first time all day I can hear the silence. Because as amazing as it sounds, I’m actually alone — Even though I’m standing on one of the busiest canyon roads in California.

As it turns out it’s been months since I last road the Ortega Highway. The combination of work and life and well, a sever desire to stay away from this particular stretch of asphalt has kept me away. That might sound harsh, but over the past two or three years each and every time I’ve ridden the Ortega I’ve managed to witness such a constant level of moto-chaos that it almost defeated the purpose of riding. It’s hard to relax and get away from it all when you’re constantly fighting it all and wondering when the next bit of crazy is about to enter your life.

Yet today it feels so damn different and I don’t know why.

The road is smooth, and slick, and fast and fluid. The canyon walls seem eager to open up and I’ve spent the last forty minutes smirking to myself. Because this is fun. This is why we ride. And the traffic is perfectly behaved. There’s excess speed in appropriate places but nobody is running three wide in a blind corner. Nobody is making me feel like death is a downshift away.

Looking out at the water, I scan the thousands of suburban homes and I find myself wondering why it is that roads continue to ebb and flow in our psyche? How is that they change and why do they?

Or is it me? Am I the one who’s changed?

I wonder… I truly wonder…