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Two Wheels and Plenty of Miles
The first thing that comes to my mind whenever I think of my father is his motorcycle. Always looking spotless clean, as if it was brand new. It’s the only true possession of his that he would die for. My father has been riding his motorcycle since I could remember; my memories date back to when I was small enough that he could carry me in between him and the gas tank. I loved those rides when I was a kid, we would go on to La Huasteca or even to my ranch through the mountains behind our city. My father loves to explore new adventurous places that he has never been before; he often travels weekends by himself to disconnect from the typical daily routine. My brother and I try to keep up with his pace but he never gets tired of riding, he keeps on going until he runs out of gas. He is part of a motorcycle club that goes around the city on Saturday mornings, every Saturday morning that he his home you’ll find him on that motorcycle with his friends going to different places. My father has met many new friends because of this passion of his; some have become so close that we often go to trips as families together. I always ask him the same question, “why do you love riding your motorcycle that much?” He responds. “Whenever I get on the motorcycle I don’t think of anything else but the place where I am headed, I automatically clear my mind and find myself some peace while riding the motorcycle”. His answer gets me thinking that the best feeling is to do what you like the most and enjoy it to the fullest. My father’s motorcycle trips have been in places that I would never think of visiting at all. Starting from his longest trip he has done so far, touring from the highest city of Alaska all the way to the lowest point in Argentina. This trip took him over a year to finish it in different small routes. When he completed the last route he felt like he toured the whole world. On particular weekdays he clears his schedule and goes riding all day and comes home late at night, feeling relieved and happy with himself. My father is crazy for his motorcycle and simply loved to be riding for as long as the gas tank can go on.
