Life Was a Highway

Life was a Highway

The first thing I noticed was the distinct sound. I looked down the street and saw a motorcycle approaching.  My heart held a special place for motorcyclists. Most riders I knew picked adventure over comfort and saw life through a unique lens.

Life was a highway, they said. We all picked our own roads and how we chose to travel on them.  It made me wonder if all humans who enjoyed riding a motorcycle had a different view of life’s highway.

First, because I was a canine and much of my life was processed through scent, I wondered if it had to do with the olfactory experience. Imagine the abundance of smells that were experienced all at once by the constant rush of air when on the open road.

And then I wondered if it had something to do with the lean. Unlike passive vehicle driving, motorcycles demanded the rider lean into turns.  On a bike, you can’t sit back and let the bike do all the work for you; you must be equally engaged.  It was a whole-body experience.  And there was a sweet spot in the lean; too far either way had unintended outcomes.

Finally, I wondered if maybe it was simply because motorcycle riders knew that the road listened to what they had to say.

How ever you choose to navigate life’s highway, may your travels be safe, your view unobstructed and your adventures many.


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