Ride For wild-fire

By FourSpeed

Walking out to the shop this morning I notice some frost on the surrounding fence line but knowing the weather will be turning shortly I think nothing of it. Unlocking the lock and opening the door I see Black Bitch sitting there waiting for the chains to be lifted so she can roam once again.

Remembering the frost I take a few minutes to cover up the oil cooler before priming her up and giving her some healthy kicks to bring her to life. Giving the throttle a few blips to start her warming before walking over to the workbench to pull my leathers on I listen to her fight the cold. Taking my time getting ready I give Black Bitch plenty of time to get that 60wt flowing warm and smooth before I worm my way out the door. Monkey bars can be a bitch getting in and out of my shop door but there is always reason to my madness even with tight doors, it serves a purpose.

Heading out the driveway I pause before deciding to head to the right. I catch some loose gravel that makes my rear tire spin a bit before grabbing the cold asphalt and launching me down the road. Hitting second I take a deep breath that freezes all the way to the bottom of my lungs but knowing things will improve I pay the weather no mind as I head down Blackferry, enjoying the sound the pipes are making on this crisp day.

Not many out this morning I notice as I adjust my senses to the gauntlet gloves I seldom wear here in south Texas, knowing before I head back I'll be pulling on my regular riding gloves I continue on heading to Surfside. Don't ask me why, maybe it's the love I hold for the ocean but I always make a pass to Surfside anytime I'm out. I've lived close to the ocean most of my life and would hate to ever give that up. Passing over the old bridge into Surfside I notice the new bridge being built is still far from being completed and it's been over a year since it was started. Pausing at the light I get a friendly nod from a redneck in a 1-ton Chevy and a glare from her ol' man. As the light turns green I head into Surfside beach, hanging a left and trailing along the waters edge.

Recent storms have left deposits of seaweed, driftwood and other assorted trash that hasn't as yet been cleaned up. Riding along until I find some beer cans that have been tossed aside I stop and lean over to pick one up. Smashing it with one foot and placing it under my kickstand I lean Black Bitch over and shut her down.

Listening to the motor tick in the morning chill blending in with the roar of the ocean and the screams of hundreds of seagulls I marvel that the ocean never tires, just keeps pounding at the sand looking for a way to enlarge itself. I wonder how long it will be able to fight the pollution that is dumped daily with little concern with the future into its bowels.

Thinking of wild-fire and others that are house bound for months on end while winter forces them to store their scoots, I find peace in my freedom here by the ocean. I wonder what it would be like to have all my Northern friends sitting around the beach here now sucking down cold ones instead of being cold and watching the snow fall they could watch seagulls dart in and out of their vision fighting over scraps. The sun climbing higher in the sky starts warming the air as the first of many cars start to appear on the beach. Deciding to leave before the picture can be spoiled I give Black Bitch a kick, mount her and head on out from the beach slowing to toss some cans into the recycle bin.

Wandering home I take the long way back at a leisurely pace stopping only to wash the sand and salt off Black Bitch at the local car wash, I can't keep the grin off my face. This is freedom, pure and simple. This ride was for you wild-fire, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Now go warm your ears.