Across the open countryside,
Into the walls of rain I ride.
It beats my cheek, drenches my knees,
But I am being what I please.
The Moos is loaded and I am off to ride all over Wales in the company of Panamaniac. As usual, I am fleeing a trauma and hope to find solace in the beat of a 750 twin and the drumming of the rain on my lid. The white noise will stop me from dwelling.
I have lived 2 years as a solo person with occasional bursts of company. Last week I attempted a blind date, set up by some well-intentioned friends. Although on paper all looked good – 6 foot 4, biker, guitarist – I have decided not to pursue the project.
Although I hope that I aspire to relationships with Happy, Sleepy or Bashful, my recent track record includes Psycho, Pisshead and Pervert. One took from me everything I held of value with the argument that I ought to love him more than living in the city, having an amazing job or spending time with my friends. One drank himself to death; one updated his Facebook status from his girlfriend’s bed less than 12 hours after being in mine.
I have achieved a certain level of peace in my life. I am quietly proud of what I have managed to salvage from a lengthy period of poor weather. It takes a lot of effort to keep the balance and it seems I have some way to go before I am ready to put this back at risk.
So I shall get on my bike and ride through the walls of rain, and all shall be well.