Last night was all about lightning, quickly followed by loud, cracking and rolling thunder. Wearing earplugs would certainly have helped and I resolve to do that tonight. Sometimes the lightning was so intense that it briefly lit up everything in a bluish halogen type of light -- as if someone had momentarily turned on the light switch. The rain was the strongest yet. But on the plus side, I again wake up to a dry tent this morning. :)

The grass is now fully saturated. I'm not sure how close they are to flooding, but the streams running through the campsite have risen significantly in the last two days. But that is all about the past. Today looks like it's going to be a great day.

My bike is parked pointing up the slight incline with the sidestand resting on a 6x6-inch plywood pad. To get back to the gravel road requires a U-turn. I stand on the pegs moto-cross style and gingerly perform a wide, left-hand U-turn.

As I gently let out the clutch at just over fast idle, the wide 190-rear tire slews out to the right. I'm standing on the pegs on opposite lock as I modulate the clutch. Great fun, but I'm riding on eggshells. The tire has cut a sizeable swath of mud through the grass. Well, if I ever had any doubts, now I know. Sport tires generate about as much grip in muddy conditions as do bald summer tires on a car in heavy winter slush.

I come around the main building at approx. 9am and discover that Carol (SKERT) has arrived and is gearing up for a ride. We exchange how-are-you's. She's seems a little surprised to see me.

Turns out that they're on their way to Dalhonega for some morning shopping and then some riding. I offer to tag along until Dalhonega. . . if they'll have me. I'll then go my own way.

But first I need to get a hold of Robert and see what his situation is. Carol assures me that he's fine, but I need to know first hand. I'm soon relieved to find that he has everything squared away.

It turns out that he won't be trailering to the dealer. After a closer inspection this morning, he feels confident that the bike is rideable. He's contacted his insurance company and looks clearly in better spirits and reassured that things will be taken care of.

And so we're off, Carol, Cindy, and I. Cindy is riding a gorgeous R1150-R. That is one sexy bike. It's simplicity and purity of line reminds me of a classic Porsche 911 Carrera back in the 80's, before the advent of big aerodynamic tails and wide fender flares made them look more garish.

As we go back through the mountains I settle in to a beautiful morning. The miles pass and I realize that I'm enjoying this group ride. Being a lone-wolf type rider I typically prefer to ride alone. Where I want, when I want, how I want. I also enjoy the introspection part of riding and I guess that has a lot to do with my preference. But I find this morning ride very nice.

When we finally get to Dalhonega, the stop turns out to be brief and pleasant. Carol mentions that they will not be long and so I offer to wait. While she and Cindy do their shopping, I tour the quaint downtown section and finally stop by a quiet park to take a drink. There's a group of children on the grounds along with supervising adults. This looks like a school group and the children seem to relish being out, even as the ground is wet and puddled.

The younger ones are happily playing while the older (twelve-ish or so) are walking around in groups of three or four. Boys with boys, girls with girls. Each seemingly absorbed in telling secrets about the other.

As I stand there idly watching, drinking, and fiddling with items in my tankbag, one of them overcomes his shyness and comes slightly forward to say that I have a nice bike. This sets a few of the girls off in giggles. I seem to remember those days when I was their age and we saw a motorcycle traveler pull up. I envy that sense of wonder that young children have about the world.

Within twenty minutes or so, we're ready to roll. Before leaving Dalhonega, we conveniently stop at the Wal-Mart for some supplies. I pick up some hydrating energy drinks while the ladies pick up some wine and beer.

We're waiting in line, wearing our riding gear. Even with soothing air conditioning we're still a little hot. As I wait my turn, I banter a little with the cashier. She's an older woman, below average height, pulled-back hair, gentle features, and calm-looking eyes. I draw her attention to what the women are drinking vs. what I'm drinking.

She bursts out into a big belly-jiggling laugh. This is contagious and we all come into heightened spirit.

Of course this is in stark contrast with what is going on at all the other cash registers, so I guess we stand out a little.

As she hands me my receipt she wishes us a great day.

Carol spontaneously replies that we are having a great day and that she's in it and part of it!

As I walk out the door, I reflect back on this little incident. I realize that we could have just paid for our stuff and walked out. You know. . .Wal-Mart shopping, very routine. Hot, impatient to get going, goal-oriented and intent on getting on with our ride.

Instead, we had ourselves a little moment. She was part of ours and, I suspect, we were part of hers. Interesting how that works. As I walk out holding my bag, the word subtle-clue flashes across my awareness.

Could it really be that simple?

Bruno
Montreal, Canada