Ole Girl needed a minute or two to warm up so I gave her some space; while she was collecting her thoughts, I was planing the route for our jaunt. Once she gave me the nod we rolled out into frigid, blinding atomic sunshine, onto the slick leave covered hardball. We turned left, jamming into second, Ole Girl responded with a little shake of her tail. Third gear, jamming into Fourth, Fifth without any provocation from me; she wanted Sixth but she ain't got it; she wanted more throttle but steel cages with rubber wheels in front of us impeded our need for speed. Six miles later we leaned left and shot down through the E-Z Pass stall. Hard right-hand corkscrew turn; my eyes locked onto the yield sign-look where you want to go! A quick peek for fastmovers in the number one lane of the Turnpike-clear-jam it! Second-Third-Fourth-Fifth-cages moving over to the passing lane; that's right! You better move over for us! Tinted visor down as we move into the presence of the white corona. Seventy-two miles per hour at 25 degrees Fahrenheit never felt so good! Occasionally as I exhale, a Nectarine size spot of moisture appears on the inside of my visor. Funky misshapen reflections appear on it as well. Handlebars protrude from my nose; I can not feel them because my mouth and cheek bones are numb-Novocaine numbness. Thick numb lips accentuate the Dali images on the visor.
Eighty-eight miles never felt so good after such a long and tenuous absence. Heat from steaming hot shrimp Ramen chased out the cold from the core of my body, through my extremities. Shrug off your self-pity, self-loathing and live!