Born to ride

My fascination with motorcycles, particularly Harley-Davidsons, is a source of confusion, dread and sometimes envy among friends.

Fellow riders share my love of riding two-wheelers through twisting mountain roads.

Example: Picked up a prescription for Amy at Floyd Pharmacy shortly before 5 p.m. and stopped to pick up a frew groceries at Food Lion, which fit conveniently in the saddlebags of my Harley Switchback.  Since nothing required immediate refrigeration, I decided to take a long way home.

The most direct route from Floyd is exactly five miles from the stoplight in town.  I take the direct route in a car.  On a bike, I can take longer routes.

Left Food Lion just before 6 p.m. and headed north on Virginia Route 8, then hung a left on Alum Ridge Road for a snaky route over the U.S. 221 just north of Willis.

Hadn’t been on Alum Ridge for a while and was delighted to see new pavement along the route and, with little traffic, it was a fun ride.

Turned left on U.S. 221 north and then a right on Cannery Road and right again on Black Ridge for a run over to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a 15-mile or so route north to Shooting Creek Road over to U.S. 221 and then right on Harvestwood Road to Sandy Flats and then home.

A five-mile trip home turned into a more enjoyable journey of more than 10 times more miles, which ended with a large smile on my face.

As the ad slogan says:  “Born to ride.”

Damn right.

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