all in a day's ride

Jack and I took a nice big long ride today. No doubt the longest ride he’s ever taken on a motorcycle. The kids had a half-day at school and so everyone was home by noon. Allison was asleep, Will and Molly went swimming at a friend’s house so Jack and I took off. We tried to ride around the lake, but traffic was backed up all the way across the dam, so we pulled a Hughie in the middle of the dam and changed our flight plan.
We rode north for about a half hour and stopped for a cold beverage. Then we went to lake Monticello to enjoy them. As always, the lake Monticello was blustery. The water was choppy and the waves were coming in so hard it sounded like we were at the ocean. A perfect day for wind surfing, which is exactly what was going on. There were about half a dozen wind surfers out there riding back and forth in front of us. Jumping waves like they were in Australia. I couldn’t believe how fast they were going. I’m pretty sure there is a horsepower limit on lake Monticello due in some way to the nuclear power plant, but there is no limiting or controlling the wind. I have no doubt that these guys were going faster than a boat is allowed to go on that lake.
We got back on the bike and road to the Anderson granite quarry. This quarry has been inactive for a long time. I wanted to show it to Jack. On the way over there I stopped to show him two church buildings that were constructed in 1768 and 1780. When we turned off the road toward the quarry, there is a granite serpentine wall along the road. All the houses are granite and most have dated stones in the corner that show 1920s and 30s. We got off the bike and walked up into the quarry and looked down into the water filled hole and up at the square, cut sides. We played in the debris of old cables and granite blocks that were just abandoned all those years ago.
On the way home, we took a different route, of course and came back on tinier, more out-of-the-way roads. It was there that I saw my favorite sight of the day. As we motored down a country road I saw movement deep in the woods on the left, far ahead. This is one of my gifts. I can see things out there that most people miss. This ability is heightened on the motorcycle, because it is a good idea to see anything that might step, jump, or crawl out in front of you. Deep in the woods there was a different shape and line and a rustle upsetting the static scenery. I thought it was a dog at first, but when we got even with it, I could see it was a spotted fawn. I slowed, turned around and went back. Still there, and with its tiny spotted twin. I know, everyone sees deer beside the road, most of you probably have hit them. But I never have. I see them. And every single one fascinates me as much as the very first one I ever saw. Tiny spotted twins with tales flickering and heads turned back looking in the same direction as their backsides. Jack could see them too, after we stopped. We sat there a while and watched them and I thought of a time several years ago when the boys and I were fishing at Cranberry. We’d spent the morning walking way up the river and we hadn’t seen anyone for hours. We were all three standing in the middle of the river. I was fishing and the boys were in knee-deep water, catching crawdads. I saw something swimming across directly toward the boys. A deer. We all stopped to watch but the boys quickly went back to the crawdads. I told them that I understood that seeing a deer is something that happens every evening, but this one is different. How many people see one swimming across the river. AND, this one may have never seen a human before. He made it to within yards of where the boys were standing knee-deep, but his head was still sticking straight up. He couldn’t touch bottom yet. Finally he stood and stuck his nose up high out of the water and walked to the side. He was no higher than Jack’s knees, all spotted and wobbly. Now I was pretty sure that we were the first humans he’d ever encountered. And I’m not sure he ever knew we were there.
There is always something rare, special, or new in the every-day and mundane. We experience experiences based solely in our own perspective and umbrella the circumstances. And there’s always something plain and familiar in the new and fascinating. So there is always something fascinating and always something familiar. Often they’re one and the same. I guess it’s up to us to decide whether it is a fascinating experience or an every day occurrence.