limits and just a couple of miles from my house
I love this time of year. Texarkana is a small enough city that most trips to the places I go take me to the outskirts of town. Even within the city limits there are roads that, at a casual glance, look like a rural area. I frequently run over to Liberty-Eylau from the downtown area. I can either hit South State Line to the loop, or Lake Drive. Either way, I go by areas with open fields and a lot of honeysuckle. The smell has an almost narcotic effect on me.
Riding around with temperatures in the mid-80s and the smell of honeysuckle has got to be one of the most pleasurable experiences a man can have … and tell about. I remember a quote, “those hours spent fishing are not detracted from a man’s appointed days.” Surely, the pleasant and peaceful roaming of scenic and fragrant byways on my two-wheeled steed will be held in at least the same esteem by deity as the slaughter of aquatic life forms.
Newly into short-sleeve shirts, the feel of the wind and sun on winter pinked flesh is almost a rebirth. It’s a yearly genesis experience, reviving me to summer riding. Spring revivals and flower festivals around the area call out and beckon me to come. I’ll start riding more and more in the days and weeks ahead. Sadly my longest trips are destined to be in the dog days of summer, when the heat will lessen the joy.
I will fill the lengthening and warming days with the rides and adventures being promised even now. I will find joy and happiness for the next five months until another enchanted time arrives and nature uses leaves instead of flowers to paint the land with riotous colors.
There is something almost magical about the too-brief rides down familiar roads made new by mild temperatures, azure skies and nature’s perfume. Why are such pleasures destined to be so fleeting?
— Guy Wheatley