longdistancestyle
young, super silly guys riding mopeds; a biker chick in a neck-to- boot, neon pink-netted bodysuit with not much underneath; some strange, rolling cheeseburger on three wheels; and an old dude riding an antique BMW and wearing a crusty, ancient helmet who made three passes in my short time there…I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. At some point while watching the tide of riders on display, I found two of my campadres in the crowd, Iron Butt Association members. I approached them with a huge smile and a hug. They were a little taken aback by my approach, but smiled big when they realized we were teammates in the long-distance world. Very cool. We were kindred souls in the waves of that vast sea. I enjoyed a great dose of the biker culture that evening and decided to
head for safe harbor with my captains lead- ing the way on their pretty little three- wheeled Harley. I was quickly beginning to realize that although all of us motorcyclists share the love of riding, our particular pools where we gather and bob around together are quite different. And that’s okay! The next day was the most exciting to
me, personally. I drove my sweet “Henri- etta” on the beaches of Daytona. There I was, riding seaside with nothing but sand and tidal pools between me and the mighty Atlantic Ocean. Surreal, indeed, and a high- light in my motorcycling history. Later that day was an exciting visit to a . As I made my way home that evening, feeling like a jellyfish bobbing amongst the vast sea of loud pipes cruising late into the night, I realized that although I had ultimate respect for this culture of bikers, it just wasn’t for me. The lifestyle of cruising, stopping, cruising, stopping, cruising, stopping is not
me. I’m definitely a long-distance style girl! The following morning, I pointed my
bow towards home and set sail…swimming quietly and gracefully upstream on my trusty Beemer as the mass of loud pipes were fin to fin streaming downstream. I spent much of the ride homeward reflect- ing on my voyage and the experiences. And suddenly, there it was again…a random shuffle of my iTunes playlist, and Van Mor- rison’s voice was again piping out the line “let your soul and spirit fly into the mys- tic…” Chills and my smile immediately fol- lowed, and somehow I knew it was a sign. I, indeed, had traveled to the mystical sea of loud pipes with soul and spirit flying…and my soul and spirit drifted away with much more than I had ever imagined…an amaz- ing experience that taught me that I am just fine being a Fashionista with an Iron Butt riding her BMW.
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BMW OWNERS NEWS May 2016
discovery
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