A tempestuous night of wind and rain cause worry. We're not sure what the day is going to bring for our journey south. With the weather not at all in our control, we merely try to get what sleep we can and hope for the best.
The pre-dawn darkness is full of the usual minor crises that arise before a trip. Things missing, last minute decisions, the mad, last-minute scramble to get everything together. This is always a stressful time for me.
Finally, the time to go arrives. Mother nature has apparently smiled upon us because dawn has broken crystal clear, blue, and cool. A beautiful early-spring/late-winter day has been provided for our 500+ mile trip south to Daytona. The Multistrada seems to love the cool, starting easily seeming to run smoothly and effortlessly. It's probably me, but it seems as eager to go as I am.
Later, when our small group assembles and points our steeds south, the morning seems magical. Interstate 95 in the southern reaches of North Carolina is not normally the most scenic or eye-catching byway. This morning, however, she seems to be wearing her Sunday best and we are presented with an every-renewing corridor of lush green capped by a glorious blue sky. The road slides past below us effortlessly as we glide between and through groups of cars and trucks like a trio of cruising barracuda. Even my traveling companions' big Harley-Davidson cruisers, which normally seem large, clumsy, and cumbersome to me, appear graceful, elegant, and uniquely in their element this morning.
We travel, stop, and travel more. No schedule except our own, no plan for the next few days but to have a good time, and one of the more pleasurable means of transportation to get us there. I'm having a hard time wiping the smile off of my face this morning, and I keep finding myself thinking that these are the kinds of moments that, as cliché as it sounds, really do make life worth living.
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