Riding into Charlotte this
morning was a beautiful yet eerie experience. Fog rolled across the tarmac in gossamar strands, giving the illusion of rolling on through the clouds. I am still sitting in wonder at a local McD's reminiscing about that awesome experience. As the sun rises into the sky, the fog
Is slowly dissipating.

I imagine work today will be fraught with excitement and non-stop action as I do my part to save the world from it's own excesses. But a big part of me wishes to be back on the road, the brisk morning air whipping at my jacket, pushing it's way past protective barriers, sneaking in under my helmet. Giving the biker salute to other passing motorcyclists. It's a shame that those riding in square prisons don't give the occasional wave to other inmates, trapped behing glass and steel, moving ever onward to fulfill whatever destinies lie in wait.
Enogh waxing poetic, I suppose. Off to work I go...

Hi-ho.