For
Janiece - June
21, 2003
A
comment sparks an idea…an idea becomes action.
To often of late, I need a spark to get me going…how nice when that spark comes from one I’m just getting to know and one who gives me something to share in return.
The
timing was perfect, as was the weather…an unseasonably cool, clear summer
evening…perfect for enjoying the world on two wheels.
Although it’s going to be a bit cool, I decide to wear just a t-shirt
and my ventilated jacket over it, I don’t want to feel overly layered.
My
route takes me west to Sassafras Mountain, a fairly prominent ridge about 25
miles to the west, elevation at the top, about 3000’.
The road that runs over the ridge and down into Jasper is a favorite,
good pavement, moderately tight turns, just fine for running at night.
As
I head out, I realize what a perfect evening it is to enjoy the beauty of dusk,
muted colors, sky to the west beginning to change color as the sun has already
set. There is no traffic and I
cover the 25 miles in good time…the view is spectacular…I see my destination
directly ahead of me silhouetted by the orange sky behind it.
I think about how lucky I am to live where I do…beautiful scenery and
great roads to ride so nearby.
As
I reach to top of the mountain, I look around for a good place to pull off the
road…the area has built up quite a bit in the last few years…quite a few
houses up along the ridge but many seem to be vacation cottages with no one
home.
I
find an opening in the trees at the entrance to a microwave tower facility and
pull off. The ground is good firm
gravel so I can park the bike on the center stand…this allows me to lay back
on the bike and get comfortable. Putting
my helmet between the handlebars and my feet on the rear rack, I’m quite
comfortable and have a great view of the sky.
It’s
not dark yet as I settle in…one, maybe two stars visible.
A fairly brisk wind is blowing through the trees, gusting slightly,
enough that you notice the change in the sound it makes in the leaves.
I love that sound…so nice to hear in the night when camping. The air is fresh and clean but interspersed with the
faint smell of gas and oil from the hot engine.
I can feel the warm air coming off the bike mixing with the cool air
coming over the windshield. I feel
the heat of the engine warming the seat below me…it feels good in the brisk
night air…a counterpoint to the cool air on my face and hands.
I
lay back and close my eyes, waiting for the sky to darken further.
It’s amazing how much more you can hear and feel with your eyes
closed…let your mind deal with one less sensory input.
Laying there with eyes closed I can feel every breath of wind across my
face, the temperature, the intensity…the sounds of crickets, distant dogs
barking, even a distant Harley with loud pipes on the road far below on the side
of the mountain.
I open my eyes every now and then to see how the light is fading, more stars appear…one by one they become visible, first to the east where it is darkest then gradually becoming visible overhead. I notice many of the points of light are moving…aircraft at high altitude, silently traversing my field of view, blinking like distant fireflies. In the distance to the east I can see the sparse lights of Dawsonville, twinkling like stars in the heat waves of the evening air.
Slowly,
the brighter stars that make up the well-known constellations come into
view…the Big and Little Dipper and others whose names and shape I once new by
heart but have now forgotten. The heavens are slow to reveal themselves this night.
I’m surprised at how long it takes to really get dark with the sky so
clear. I’m waiting for the
ghostly strands of the Milky Way to appear, only then will I know that the sky
is fully dark. I’m wondering,
will I be so lucky as to see a meteor tonight?
More
and more aircraft are visible now, a whole chain of them headed north from the
Atlanta airport, probably only about 15,000 feet by the time they reach this
area, the sound trailing the aircraft by half the sky…I wonder about the
people on those planes, where they’re headed…as I will be on Sunday night.
I can see the arriving aircraft off to the east, one after another headed
in from the cities of the NE…a moving strand of tiny pearls.
How much the night sky has been changed by human technology.
Finally,
almost as if someone switched it on, the Milky Way is visible…perhaps I
drifted off into a few minutes of thought…watching the planes…the lights on
the ground in the distance…thinking of how you would enjoy this time and
place. I make mental notes of what
I’ve heard, smelled, seen and felt…I want to be able to convey every detail.
As much as I’d like to stay here for a few hours I had better get
going…it’s almost 10:30 and I’ve got at least a half an hour ride back.
Riding back down the cracked, potholed road that leads to the top of the
mountain I see the yellow green reflections at the side of the road that I
dread…a deer. It bolts across the
road about 20 feet in front of me…luckily I was going slow and did not have
take any drastic action…I slow my already cautious pace further and decide
I’m in no rush.
The road down is so much different in the dark, like riding through a tunnel, my headlight illuminating a narrow portion, trees forming a canopy overhead. Once back on the main road I quicken my pace, arcing through the turns at a comfortable speed, my mind full of the experience. The ride home is quite different, the temperature has dropped considerably, riding through deep valleys causes a temperature drop you can feel immediately…waiting for that warmth as I crest the next hill.
As
I pull back in my garage I’m still abuzz…I hope I can run in and write all
this down, but that is not to be…I’m needed for one thing or another…such
is life right now.
Sharing these moments and friendship…great joy can be found in simple things.
Copyright 2003 by Tom Stites