TheBanyanTree: it's like cliff walking...

[Barbara Edlen]

When we first moved to North Carolina and I discovered the cliffs at 
Pilot Mountain it was like a whole brand new beautifully decorated 
package had been presented to me as a gift for me to slowly open at my 
own pace. At first, every time I approached one of the cliffs my tummy 
would get that funny tickling sensation that lets you know you should be 
wary of what you are attempting. I perceive it as a healthy sense of 
fear that keeps you from being foolish, mixed with a quivering sense of 
excitement over a meeting a new challenge.

Rappelling down the cliffs helped with familiarity and the sense that I 
could manage them in controlled circumstances. Finding secluded niches 
of my own where no one could disturb me was ample incentive to explore 
and step beyond my comfort zone in climbing out on one. Sitting with my 
feet dangling over the edge was at first a cause for tummy tickles, too. 
But the sense of freedom and the magnificently encompassing views, 
afforded me from my perches, quickly quieted any sense of hesitancy.

I didn't even notice the exact point when hiking along the cliffs became 
comfortable and something I just did, with no more tummy tickles. Not 
until I took one of my Great Danes (Cissy) with me and her intrepid 
nature made me realize that 1) she is perpetually in gamboling puppy 
mode and not always the most graceful of creatures 2) one nudge from her 
(Danes like to lean on you a *lot* as a sign of affection) would be 
detrimental for both of us. It was a reality check. No cliff hiking with 
the Danes. Got it. Common sense reigns.

Now, as I learn to handle my motorcycle, I am experiencing the tummy 
tickle sensation all over again. First, it was about getting down the 
steep curvy driveway without tipping over and looking like an idjit. 
Which I didn't. Oh no, I didn't tip it over until I was down the road in 
a neighbor's driveway (STOPPED, mind you) and trying to turn around. 
That's when I learned that I can't hold up 615 pounds of motorcycle and 
try to make a turn. Going uphill. On gravel. <sigh>

I learned a couple more salient facts that day. Gravel is a bitch to 
turn a bike on, especially when you are just learning how to handle your 
new bike. I *knew* it was going to be a challenge, but I also learned 
that there are definite reasons for a lot of the safety gear. Boots with 
more traction make a huge difference. My left side presents me with 
challenges on some days more than others. Depending on it to handle all 
615 pounds of bike on a hill is not a wise move, because gravity is not 
my friend. ;-) Now when I need to turn around while stopped, I 
contemplate my moves ahead of time. Where you look is indeed where your 
bike goes. The MSF instructors repeated that a gazillion times for a 
very good reason.

The local roads are proving to be a great teaching arena and a lotta 
fun. On my first day, I kept practicing circles & figures 8's in a local 
church parking lot and also my "quick stops". I was making myself nuts 
trying to master all the slow speed stuff which is lots harder because 
motorcycles aren't intended to only go 5-10mph. Six hundred and fifteen 
pounds are indeed very HEAVY!

Then I was talking to our neighbors (who are letting me park it in their 
garage since it's been kept inside before and God knows I don't want it 
to get cold or wet <g>). Anyway, they told me I was thinking too hard 
and practicing too much and to just go out on the road and have fun.

So that's what I've been doing.

The past few days have been an exhilarating joy and have confirmed why 
I've wanted a bike for what feels like forever.

I *!LOVE!* it.

I love the feel of taking a tight curve just right and I feel my weight 
shift down into my seat as I throttle up through the end of the curve. I 
grin so bigly when I downshift and hear the engine rumble like a big 
sleek cat.

I get naysayers with so many of my dreams. I want a horse and geez, that 
got shot down with all kinds of warnings about how expensive, 
time-consuming, yada, yada, yada, they are. Sometimes people assume I am 
an idjit and I don't know why. I am so dayum (as Dee taught me to say) 
OCD, I research stuff to the nth degree. I will have a horse within the 
next few years. A friend has offered me a sweetheart of a mare and has 
also told me that I can have all the hay I want from his farm. All I 
need to do now is clear some land. I have another friend who can help 
with that. Last year he taught me the basics of driving his backhoe. But 
there's no way I can fell trees with it. I do know my limitations, even 
if I do sometimes push against them upon occasion.  And I do respect the 
experience, expertise and advice of many people in my life.

There are risks with just about anything and with most things I am 
interested in, it seems. I just try to keep it all as manageable and as 
safe as I can and still not lose the tummy tickle, shivery sense of 
excitement that means something amazing is on my horizon.

"When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world."

— Mary Oliver