Leaving Nowhere
This weather has been horrible. Well, not horrible, but it has been cloudy, rainy, overcast and cold. I have not been able to ride my bike to work during the week, or after work for that matter, but I have been fortunate to put in some miles on the weekends. The rain has been a daily occurrence to the point that flooding has been at the top of almost every conversation for the last week and a half. Several of the counties along the Pearl River have experienced what is now being called a 30-year flood.
After a very difficult week, Saturday morning brought a cool start, but the forecast promised redemption in the form of sunshine and temperatures in the high 50’s for the afternoon. The difficulty of the week summoned the opening of a new bottle of Elijah Craig small batch bourbon and thus, a later night ensued than is normally observed preceding a planned day of riding. My purple and black zebra print blanket formed a cocoon around me and caused me to be less than motivated to meet the day.
Coffee, a shower, and a serving of French Toast that I made from my mom’s semi-famous recipe’ provided the spark that I needed to get movement started, and after I received believable assurance that Melissa did not want to ride, I dressed and started out. My last words to Mel were that I was going to take pictures of the flood.
It is the time of year, where bikers rush to get geared up, warmed up, flight checked and on the road because of the gear required for riding at highway speed rewards you with a drenching sweat if you remain idle for long. What has you questioning if you are overdressed for the ride, is soon over-ruled when you are in the wind.
With water everywhere, I quickly encountered proof of the flood. I saw cars pulled off of the highway, buckets, chairs, fishing paraphernalia. I saw the vehicles of a used car dealership moved to higher ground. I saw the backwater creeping toward the now abandoned Sands Motel Lobby. I saw an advancing line of floating trash, moving slowly toward a bridge, as if awaiting its turn to go through a turnstile to a restricted area. I stopped the 920 lb. motorcycle a time or two, but looking through the viewfinder of my camera yielded water and nothing more. That “Norman Rockwell” image failed to appear, so I rode on, seeing more fishermen, more official vehicles, more roadblocks, and less opportunity to find “that shot” worthy for me to post on the Harley Davidson, Electra Glide Owners Group site. I decided to ride up on to the road leading to the bridge leading to nowhere.
I have to remind myself when talking about the bridge that leads to nowhere, that people from all over the planet have access to this website so I can’t say, “Go past the Goss Baptist Church Softball field and when you take the next left, you are on the road which has the bridge that leads to nowhere.” So let me explain about the bridge that leads to nowhere. The Pearl River dissects Marion County Mississippi, USA. There is the good side, and there is the “other side” of the river and it should be noted that the sides are interchangeable depending on the side one is standing upon.
For many years there was one bridge that crossed the river, and then a second crossing was built in the 1970s. Sometime after the new century began, a leg of a proposed new highway just kind of began less than a mile north of Goss Mississippi, which included a third bridge crossing the river. I’m sure there were probably announcements and discussions about the road, but somehow, I missed them all. At any rate, the history and the politics of this road are not what this story is about.
The view of the floodwaters, amazing as they are, can’t be captured photographically. Or at least in such a way that a person viewing it can fully understand just how much water is out there. Hell, walking on the bridge, with the sound of the force of the water and the seeing the speed in which it is flowing doesn’t fully quantify the gravity of the situation. Recalling a trip to the bridge last August during the dry months provides me with a reference as to the depth of the water outside of the banks of the river proper. To offer a sheer guess I would say that just the water outside of the banks was 18 to 20 feet deep and a half of a mile wide. As I said, a picture just doesn’t do it justice. So I kept on riding when I came to the bridge, giving a nod and a wave to people launching a boat, which I thought was insane. I also gave a little horn blast at some kids who had little toy fishing rods hanging out over the side of the bridge. But I did little more than slow down to look and continued as the bridge began its incline to the “nowhere” side.
At the end of the road, I turned around and started back down the hill. Feeling the need to take just one picture, I pulled to the shoulder of the road, extracted my phone from its pocket, and took the pic. Having a ton of doubt as to the quality of the picture, I just returned the phone to its pocket, zipped it closed, dropped the shield of my helmet and started back to town.
This is a lot of buildup to arrive at the inspired destination, metaphorically speaking that I ultimately did after viewing the picture for the twentieth time. I have this theory or a hypothesis that people, who pay attention, are rewarded for the effort. Not immediately sometimes, but often there is a reward. The act of riding a large motorcycle commands that one pays attention. In the wind, it is common knowledge that any number of things might happen. But in the wind, there is the knowledge that any number of things might happen, and there you have it, the question and the answer. I’ll not try to explain it because over time, many have tried, many who are better than me, but all have failed. I kept looking at the picture.
On Monday morning while I was drinking coffee, I looked at the picture and I realized the significance and the simplicity of it. My point-of-view as I took the picture was across the bridge that leads to nowhere. I thought, “I was literally nowhere.” In the last year, I have visited a lot of places by motorcycle and over the nearly 17000 miles I’ve traveled to get to those places, I have seen a lot of the rewards that I mentioned. For example, I was riding down a country road one day and I crossed a bridge. As soon as I crossed it, I thought, “Well I have to turn around.” And I did and decided that I may have encountered the world’s shortest bridge.
It occurred to me that when I revved that engine and eased off of the clutch, that I had started from nowhere. I considered that I’ve begun a many a trip WITH nothing, but never FROM nowhere. But commencing a trip from nowhere has to have some cosmic meaning for me; some meaning about life, about direction, about the destination, and about the ride. So the journey began, from nowhere. Now what?
Throughout the day I tried to process the information and I guess we can all say that we have started a journey from nowhere. That journey is the one that begins at conception. Just like the road in the picture, our journey starts out downhill and relatively straight. Then after a short distance, the road comes to an intersection and as in life, a decision has to be made. Do I go this way or that? Right or Left? On the road, there are hazards regardless of which one we choose, and on the road after that, and after that.
There is the pace in which we take the journey. In youth, we tend to want burn rubber right out of the gate, and just haul ass from one thing to the next. The only satisfaction is that of the blur of the road as we pick up speed, and the thrill of the moment, the trust in our skills.
It seems that some know exactly where they plan to go. With wind checked and a heading mapped, they advance quickly, checking off waypoints, mile markers, barely noticing the points of interest as they pass, a mere footnote in the journal of the trip. There are people who they want to meet along the way, but they are only those who might help or provide some advantage toward the goal.
Others take a slower, more deliberate approach, stopping to rest and stopping to breathe. And they notice the little things, the unusual things, things that are old, intrinsic, or even things gaudy and garish, worthless other than oddity and with no apparent thought to placement. They are often open to conversation or small talk with anyone who expresses an interest in doing so, even welcome it, provided the conversation comes to them because they are mortified that they will be thought of as overly assertive, otherwise. This group may not even have a particular destination in mind, just a general one, with highpoints marked everywhere, just in case the road they are on runs that way.
Ultimately, we all find ourselves at some point along the way. Whether we get to a specific destination fast, then live or we live every step until eventually, the destination finds us.
Then there are the DBeazy’s of the world. Those who are fortunate enough to have been observant and blessed with a second shot at a new start from nowhere. Fully aware that the first intersection is not far in the distance, and knowing that one choice brings fear of what might be found down the road while the other brings fear of what might be missed. As one who fears opportunity as well as hazard, I can only say that when the time comes, I will make a decision and right or wrong, I’ll stick to it. But I know that I have the DBeazy One-Man-Think-Tank to assist in the decision process. I think I’m on the right track because my being observant has already paid off. After all, who can say they have seen a Sasquatch.
Oh yeah, there is one other option available when you are nowhere. You continue on the path of the fool, by looking back from the road to somewhere. I believe Albert Einstein said it best when he talked about “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” All too often I’m afraid that this is the case with human beings, and I include DBeazy in the group sometimes.
No matter where you are in your own journey today, I’ll leave you with 4 last thoughts. Make sure you are in motion. Set your sights towards somewhere, rather than nowhere. Observe your surroundings, and finally, reap the rewards.