04 Sep '18 — an activity that's all about the journey
I didn’t understand what a joy ride was until this year.
My husband had a motorcycle when we were living in Berlin, but we didn’t go on many joy rides. There were rural areas to ride but there wasn’t much variety.
It was fun riding through farm towns on the border of Poland and Germany. We would often pass by old churches, medieval walls, and all sorts of old structures. But most villages looked the same amongst rolling hills of crops–the most exciting were the neon yellow canola crops when flowers were in season.
from European rides
There are lot of windmills in Europe, I always felt like I was in a commercial for allergy medicine. I’m not sure why I associate windmills in an open field with allergy medicine commercials (maybe I’ve seen them in commercials? Why would they put in windmills?).
We were always riding to a destination, whether it was to Berlin or to my husband’s parent’s house on the border in Poland. We never rode for no reason.
Now that we’re here in the Pacific Northwest, where the landscapes are vast, we’re doing a ton of riding–not to get anywhere.
It’s the best thing in the world. One second I’m at 1500 feet at the start of a large mountain, the next minute I’m at 3600 feet staring beyond at layers and layers of peaks.
I never thought I’d be so into joy riding. It’s something that cannot be done by car. Those turns on high slopes just aren’t as easy to maneuver.