Poetry By Chuck


Nature Calls

 The flowing richness of a golden valley stretches it's vast expanse before me and it  seems to vanish in the distant bowl of snow capped mountains.  Mountains with white crowns of frozen sparkling snow that reach to unimaginable heights.  I pause at the side of the road.  The motor sounding its smooth throb of power.  That sound disturbs the silence of this remote place, the placid waters of its beauty.  With deliberate movements, so as to not destroy the mood, I turn off the bike, and remove my gloves.  There are times like these in every riders journey.  Where Nature calls him or her to stop and absorb her beauty, her silence, her living heart.  The puffy white clouds dot the blue sky and provide a moving snow cap, another of natures surprises. 

I remove my helmet and set it aside and step off the bike.  Leaving it on its kickstand silent yet filled with waiting power.  I always have a feeling of pride that I'm capable of riding such a machine, such a beast of burden with its raging heart ready at every start.  This vast meadow of natural colors grabs my heart and fills it with wonder.  Too many riders fail to stop and appreciate the wonder of Natures delights.  I do not make that mistake.  I take out my camera and snap this shot with my ride sitting aside the banquet of beauty.  I don't know why every time I visit a place like this, I almost wish to just leave civilization aside and walk away from even my ride.  Walk into the vastness of natural things and with strong strides explore every ridge and ravine.  I wish to see behind every large rock, ponder the writings of forgotten cultures, taste the sweetness of an unspoiled stream and watch the sunset from an eagles perch.  Imagine not having earthly concerns, and living in such a place of wonder.  Alone in the silence of the vast unknown. 

I wonder what it was like before the road entered the valley.  Before that first man or woman stepped into its richness.    Where the Garden of Eden existed undisturbed.  I wish I could have been that first explorer.  Randomly finding the wilderness.  And then... 

With a smile I turn and look at my ride.  Sitting there silent and powerful.  I always smile when I see it with pride.  I walk up to it.    It has a layer of dust and road dirt, it's mirrors reflect the miles I've ridden.  The cowling has gathered a banquet of bee's and other small splashes of color.  The thought of cleaning its hidden nooks and crannies is daunting to say the least, as there are so many of them.  But, it's a labor of love.  However, I can put that thought aside as I have many miles before I end this ride.  I put on my helmet and gloves.  Then mount the beast tugging it upright against gravity.  With a twist of the wrist I start the gauges glowing and then....push the button.  The sound of it's growl echoes for miles in the expansive wilderness.  I think I woke an Owl up.  I twist the grip and listen to the roar of power unleashed and now I'm ready to soar.  Up with the kickstand and some gravel is spit as the bike carries me deep into natures banquet.  I love it.