Choosing a name for your motorcycle touring company shouldn’t be that hard, I thought. After some initial brainstorming I was going to go with Backroads Moto West. This name had very strong key words for internet search, and it spoke to the content of our trips – backroads! Interstate Highways were to be avoided as much as possible, merely short connectors when necessary to get us to the good stuff – the smaller highways and backroads. And “west” because our tours would be in the western US.
After some time though, I had a yearning to capture something more visceral, something that spoke not as much to the what, but more to the why. I re-entered the name game and simply started brainstorming, writing down whatever came to me – Wanderlust Moto Tours, Unplugged Moto, and so on. These were not to be, but they were on the right track. I decided to pause the word search, and instead made a stab at journaling, describing what I think many of us feel when we ride. For better or worse, on a worn, yellow, legal-pad I scratched away. In crude and awkward grammar, it was this:
When the engine turns over something magical happens, with the sound of the pistons evoking anticipation of what lies ahead! Traveling down the road we become aware of the grandness and simplicity of beauty passing by, of being in the glorious humble grateful moment. No other moment matters right now. Glad to be alive moment. The never-ending thrill of rolling on the throttle, of discovering a new meadow, a new canyon, a new vista, a new small town with great eats and interesting people. The iron horse is a conversation starter with about-to-be new friends! O, this wonderful joy of a road trip, getting to know fellow riders, with different backgrounds and journeys to share, and how each of us first sat a bike and fell into this love of motorcycle riding.
With every mile, every new view, every new town, and every new friend we make, our souls are fed. The grandness of the experience is large. Panoramic. Too big to fit into the lens of my view, or the expression of my words. Not because of the bike alone, but what the bike affords. Riding… enraptured. Captured by freedom and wonder, unseparated from the naked closeness to the elements, as if we were one with them, because we are – fortunate and benevolent travelers reuniting with our senses and emotions, no longer headed towards a destination, but realizing the journey is the destination; to be here and to be present. Not tomorrow, not yesterday, and not next week, but here. Now. An inexpressible grin of sorts on the inside. Simply an oversized Yes!
I imagine all of this is a shadow of what we feel when we ride, and what compels us voluntarily to share the rider’s hand-wave when we pass fellow riders in the opposite direction. It’s because we know. We may not do well to explain it to those who don’t ride, but we are blessed. When our friends ask us how our ride, or road trip was, we give it a go, trying our best. But it’s a big ask, like taking a photo of the most gorgeous landscape you’ve ever seen, and then realizing the picture just doesn’t do it justice. It’s too big, and it’s too beautiful. It is… panoramic.