Excuses, Excuses
Created | Updated Apr 9, 2017
Prose poetry like this appears in FWR's journal from time to time. We steal it, so everybody can read it.
Excuses, Excuses
Excuses, excuses.
Yesterday was a gorgeously sunny and unseasonably warm day. Those peacock motorcyclists who have stored their gleaming, rarely used steeds away since last summer were out in force.
Hundreds of brightly coloured wobbly butterflies emerged from hibernation and took to the roads, basking in the warmth and annoying the hell out of everyone.
I have this rant every year, nothing changes, never will. There will always be fair weather riders who emerge for a few hours on a few weeks of the year, ride like idiots and give the rest of us on two wheels a bad name.
Strangely, two of my biker friends have succumbed to butterflyitis, wrapping their bikes up to hibernate for the winter months, spending dreary (but admittedly warm and dry) hours in a steel box, cursing traffic and longing for spring. Their excuse? Had too many winters on the bike.... sick of being cold and wet, why clean your pride and joy only to ride in grit and salt and get it dirty again? ... but they miss two wheels, stubborn in their decision, age and wisdom winning over joy and passion.
Today is miserable. Foggy, damp and cold. Yesterday's butterflies have once again vanished, huddling in garages and under bespoke covers til maybe next week, maybe next month, maybe summer... The roads are occupied once again by the same bikers I see day in day out, enjoying the ride, shivering slightly, but alive on two wheels.
Banter flies across electronic highways. Excuses scorned. Growing old inevitable - growing up a matter of choice. More excuses not to join an upcoming run, more derision. Laughing off the barbs, but stung nonetheless, my friends drive miserably to work. My bike awaits me, dirty but ready for another ride.
My old leathers, bearing badges and patches from decades of runs,rallies and events. Happy memories, long long rides. Patches "in memory of.." Ghosts that ride along with me. Always.
Thoughts of brothers lost. Chances to ride together no more. Some wishing they hadn't made excuses to ride with us that one last time, never to be repeated. Brothers mourned, but remembered doing what they loved most. The ride was, and is, all.
Time passes for us all. One day, hopefully not too soon, time will give us all the only real reason, the only undisputed excuse not to wheel the bike out, get togged up and ride. When that day comes and the reaper calls, then I may stop. Become another ghost name on a brother's jacket.
Even then, I've heard from American bikers that 'God Rides A Harley'….so there may still be chance for one last run! No excuses from me.
PS from FWR: It's the annual charity Easter egg run this weekend: around 10,000 riders turn up, sadly 9,500 of them are butterflies and won't come out again 'til the sun shines! Hope it stays nice or there'll only be a few hundred of us!
I joined a bikers' online group last night...first two posts were about how they were looking forwards to the 'biking season' starting soon and getting ready to polish their bikes up after a long winter's lay up....needless to say I was a member for all of thirty seconds!
