Washboard bumps bounce the bike, jarring my muscles and joints. I shift from third gear to second. The road smoothes out. I shift back to third. I congratulate myself—deciding to take a long motorcycle ride again was a blinking-on-light-bulb idea. It came at 3:15 AM.
I work as a night watchman. My shift starts at midnight. I make security rounds, answer phones, deal with visitors, and do minor cleaning. Between rounds, I have free time—then I read or write.
One night last winter at 2:30 in the morning, I was fighting sleep. I stared at the wall clock. The second hand clicked forward like slow drips from a faucet. I was reading Robert Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. My eyes kept losing focus. The book lay open in front of me—Pirsig on a motorcycle trip. Troubled thoughts bubbled. …show more content…
An appealing, expansive viewpoint surfaced on that two-month ride. I started the 7500 miles staring at the show of my life through a TV screen. Trip experiences changed my perception. A tiny TV image transformed into a theater screen image. This was super 3D. I reached out for oncoming objects. My brain cells sparked wildly. My synapses