Text: "Still up for going to Wataga breakfast tomorrow? If so, Kickstands up at 8:15 my house." Stage
There are any number of definitions ascribed to heaven. Philosophers, theologists, poets, lay and professional commoners alike all have an opinion or vision. For me, I am too busy navigating this world to worry about the next. My head tells me there is no next, so to find heavenly places closer to home here. One kind of heaven is a text like the above. Heaven can be attained by a nice day riding, a buddy or two in my rearview mirror and all day to do it.
A little touch of homesickness, two weeks of shivering cold and rain in Northlandia and then a window of good weather and an invite in my inbox. Heaven can be conjured by a rising sun surrounded by blue sky, a full tank of gas, and a riding partner you call friend.
Neighbor Tim's New Blue Harley parked in front of the North Henderson Civic Center ahead of my Yamaha Strato. The itinerary called for meeting up with one of Tim's buddies, Diane and some of her friends, then on to Wataga for breakfast - one of those firemen pancake breakfasts I loved when I lived up here.
Bikes tend to multiply on nice riding days. Diane's friends kept showing up and a small party soon blossoms into a large group.
A couple rough mean looking old bikers.
Fortunately or not, they stopped at an intersection to wait for us to catch up and then we all stopped at a bar just outside Wyoming. A good Bloody Mary later Tim and I parted ways and headed back to Knox County, a grandkid's birthday party became a priority. That is something I fully understand.
A beer at the Civic Center and a ride with Tim and Carrie into G-Burg - they heading to a park to party and me to LaGondola's for a Torpedo. A day in the saddle of a motorcycle. A most heavenly day indeed.