Roger posted this most excellent piece at Bel's Tavern located at The Virtual Rally. As soon as I saw it, I knew I wanted it on this page. Cross country riding is for me the ultimate riding experiance. The people you meet along the highway...the camping...the smell of the morning. This poem describes the feeling that we all share while on the road. Enjoy.


By Roger Bacon

The solitary black and silver Honda
Banked dipped and soared,
As if in a fighter plane.
Carving the esses along the twisting road
That echoed the rain
As gleaming gunmetal lakes laughed
At magnificent mountains along which the road ran.
Flickering against the curvaceous muted shore

Meanwhile upon another highway
A Kawasaki roared with orchestrated magnificence.
Speeding like an avenging angel
Along the swinging and beautiful road beside
Which melancholy oceans drank the asphalt.
Stopping for coffee and a cigarette
Its rider smelled the fragrant countryside
Mingled with hot oil and leather

Both roads were leading unawares
To the same mountaintop plateau
Where a forested campsite awaited
Like an empty armed lover
Whose cold bed's a-beckoning
Come back, come back, like Ummagumma
The Floyd echoed song calls softly
Dusk approches with insistent sweetness

Firelight now flickers through the trees
As one encampment is made ready
Through the owl haunted distance
Another motorcycles muted roar approaches
Sitting around the fire drinking whisky
Whose smoke filled flavor complements the air
You wonder why you waited so long
To resurrect your faded memories