Wanted: Big, Powerful and Noisy

Every Thursday night I trail in and turn to the Discovery Channel to watch American Chopper. I'm addicted to the show, really. Some day I'd like to learn enough to be able to build a real, working machine that runs on something more than double-A's and that looks so good too. Those bikes are works of art with wheels and huge engines. There's a Harley place near here and you can rent bikes; if I could learn how to ride one and then rent one and spend a week or so tooling around on back roads through pink deserts and gold forests and sitting under brides in the rain, reading a book the way I saw a biker passing time during a New Mexico thunderstorm. A great trip with someone would involve motorcycling around Great Britain--seeing all of it, Scotland, Wales, back to Suffolk again because it's still home to a part of me, the Isle of Skye, every bit.

That's really all this entry is about: thoughts of trips. I was feeling restless today. It felt dangerous outside this morning, right before the sun came up, when I was heading out to the barn. I love it when it does that, it makes something inside me start hurting and needing to get out. Personally, I think it's genetic and I blame Dad, because he's so much like me--you just get these whims and need to go. He almost bought a kayak once on a rambling whim. He's never been in one before. But sometimes, when you need to go, you need to go.

And this bird you cannot chain . . .