I am a control freak.
This is no surprise to anyone who knows me well, but the end result of being a control freak is that I carry every bit of tension in my neck, shoulders, back, arms, everywhere really, and as time goes on I feel my shoulders hunch up towards my ears until I reach the point where I am tightly wound up, like one of those jack in a box on springs. Today I woke up and I needed someone to lift the lid and let my springs unfurl...
The sun was shining and so I decided that this meant spring had arrived early and therefore Rohan and I should hit the road on the motorbike. There was a twofold purpose to this - one, I could enjoy the sun and get a hit of bike riding that would make me look forward to our upcoming tassie trip even more, and two, I could get a bit of do-it-yourself chiropractic work by getting rohan to ride over some bumpy roads in the hope that my back would click back into place (sorry Anna! I know this is not ideal but in times of desperation I'll take what I can get).
I am by nature a worrier so the fact that I love being on the back of the bike is a surprise to most and especially to me. The rational part of my brain is aware of all the dangers of clinging onto rohan while riding and I have stored in the back of my brain the horrendous images and stories of bike riding adventures gone bad. All this I know. What I also know is that my rational brain is not in charge when I encase my head in my beautiful black $800 shoei helmet. When I pull on the bike gear I am as free as I can be.
For when I am a pillion, I cannot be in control. There is nothing I can do. I have to trust in rohan, the bike and the road. And trust I do. I give myself to the space inside my helmet and nothing else. The wind buffets around me and the sky and the road merge together into an endless sea before me. I close my eyes and words and ideas dance across my eyelids, tumbling in and out, but nothing stays long. I see gum trees flying past and sheep running from the noise of the bike rumbling up tiny, potholed country roads. We fly round bends, dip down into valleys and ride wherever the road may take us. It is this I love most. The journey, not the destination.
The destination brings its own pleasures when riding though. On cold days, I drag my gloves off and wrap my icy fingers around steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and I pick out sweet, sticky pastries in small country bakeries. On hot days, I roll off the bike, unpeeling my sweaty jacket and break breadsticks into pieces while munching on cheese and slurping on water.
My reverie is broken by Rohan's voice through the intercom 'Are you still awake?'....Geez what does he take me for? I fall asleep on the back of a bike once, and he's never let me forget it.
Today I am awake, and I suck in the air and soak up the sunshine. The cobwebs of winter are dismantling....
