birds fly highest against the wind, not with it
There is a part of me that yearns for the better art of my youth ~ not that I ever owned a hog, or a switchblade, or a studded leather jacket. I was a little too prudish for that. For a while I rode a 400 x 4 to work, bought and sold cars that I shouldn’t have touched with a barge pole, and knew an older woman called Janet who owned a Bonneville T120. (MBL (Married but looking.)) And BTW, if I go over the Rockies it will not be on a bike.
Please listen with skepticism, or maybe cynicism.
surprising ride for a married older woman
The mythology of motorcycles is all about men who have never grown up.
Today I rented a little put-put bike and toured around this end of the Island for a few hours.
You know what, it was Fun! Even though this little thing would only do about 35 mph, going downhill. Yet I got to see bits of Lanzerote that most tourists will never see.
Renting this bike also got me away from my little group of fellow solitary travellers ~ and after a week together we could all use the break.
Still, I fly home tomorrow, and I’m cool with that.
Turns out that motorbiking is also a very rude term. Who knew?
dramatic sky and steel-blue sea