Posted on FJRiders.com on June 28th, 2022.
35.362932, -82.992185
Here is my contribution. I believe there is one more installment, but it is left to the participants to share. It’s taken me some time to put that day into words; for that, I apologize. The 16 digits above, when arranged and correctly oriented to this planet we call home, it is the location that I chose to fulfill one of the final wishes of and to say ‘until next time” to our dear friend Jason– Jwilly. This took place on the Tuesday morning of my ride home.
Jwilly –
So here it is, my friend – little did I know all those years ago when an off handed conversation about ‘when it all comes to an end” included a commitment to triple digits on the BRP, which would be relayed to your daughter, who in turn would say to me, “dad said you’d know what to do”.
I did, whether I liked it or not.
The BRP just after dawn on the morning of June 14th presented optimal conditions for the task at hand. There was no mid- afternoon haze from the heat, no crowded turnouts, just crisp views for miles that make you feel so small in the grand scheme of it all. That morning, you were with me. Instead of the back seat, you’re in a pocket over my heart, where you’ll always be for each of us. You coached me along, suggesting just a little more here, a little more there, soaking in the song of the bike spinning just shy of the limiter – the ultimate orchestra and ballet we seek with each twist of the throttle. What a glorious morning to share the road with you my friend.
I circled back to the Richland Balsam Overlook. 6,053. More digits – these represent the elevation of that particular location. The highest point on the BRP and thus the place on this earth that morning that put me the closest to you. I know, you’re going to give me crap for missing the first entrance, but I’ll remind you of the ballet, and the delicate balance that finds lean angle, throttle and brake wrestling for their portion of traction the tires and road will allow. You remember Potts Mountain, right? Yeah, thought so. The GPS validated what I already knew – some things you can just feel.
So this is the spot – I’ll be back to check in. Right there, just beyond the side walk.
Love you buddy.
Wayne
I won’t share just how long it took me to get back in the saddle an going. But once rolling, I wanted to be home. Maybe an adult beverage will coax details out of me about an uncomfortable conversation with a blue light special on NC215. Garmin said the LZ was 611 miles north when I hit Hot Springs, NC. So that’s what happened – I went home. Rolled into the garage sometime after 11p that evening.