In the last month I have found myself not enjoying life.
If you knew me, you'd be worried.
I always enjoy what I am doing while I am doing it. And I'll do almost anything.
This is why you will find no details of who I am on this Blog. You don't need to know.
The only thing you need to know is what is written here.

On Sunday I took a ride on my bike. Not a bicycle, those are for people who want to get tired.
My bike is a 1984 Honda Interceptor. I'll post a picture if I remember.
I went for a short ride.
But somehow I arrived back home two hours and forty minutes after I left.
I had done well over 200 kilometers.
Where had the time gone and where did I go?
It was like being stuck in an episode (bad one) of Star Trek.
I have a GPS, I downloaded the data. I went through several counties, mostly dirt roads.
But I do not remember a damned thing.
It was cold, windy and bright. The scenery was no doubt pretty.
So where was my mind?
And why did my memory not record?

Three weeks ago, the last time I was on the bike, I had a much different experience.
The smells, sounds and sights sent me jolting back to other times and places in my life.
Yes, like yet another bad episode of Star Trek.
But it wasn't "like" I was there. I was there. Physically. Mentally.
It was disturbing.
Disturbing because while I was back in BC, riding my old bike, through the Frasure Valley.
I could look forward and see where I am now.
I existed in two places at once.
And I did not like what I said to my future self.
Have I changed so much?

When I ride, it always brings me closer to God.
It is just me and Him, the bike and the land.
I could talk to Him, and I would listen to Him speak to me with the road.
I have not spoken to Him in quite a while.
I am sure He is trying to talk to me. But I have seemed to have lost the ability to listen.
Perhaps I will not like what He has to say.
Perhaps I know what He is going to say.
Perhaps I do not want to hear.
At this point I am only just keeping it together, though sheer force of will.
His will, for I really think he is carrying me.
I know this, because I do not have this much strength in me.

It is getting cold out now.
Perhaps one more weekend to ride.
In a few weeks there will be leaves and rain and wind.
Riding in that is asking for a trip to the hospital, if they find me.
Riding in that used to be a challenge, or a cue to head south.
Now I shall have to make a decision.
Do I go out, and if I do, will I listen?
Or fade into the scenery.

There is something cohesive about it all.
I have stripped that bike down to its bare skeleton, and built it back up.
I know where each bolt goes, what each sound is.
When it vibrates at a certain RPM I know it is the natural harmonics of the V4.
I know how fast I can take the corner, how quickly I can brake.
I know all these things as you can only know a bike you have spent great amounts of time on.
I love the sound when I open it wide open and accelerate full throttle.
As much as I love the sound of cruising at 80 in 5th at four thousand RPM.

One last ride then.
To ask the question I don't want to ask.
To hear the answer I already know.
This is going to be hard.
I am going to have to become what I need to be.
Not what I want to be.
In those days I was Lupus Solitarum.
The Lone Wolf.
I no longer walk alone.

Maybe yesterday was my last great walk.
The last great ride.
Perhaps, after all that, I have become a pack animal after all.
And is that so bad?