One of the many pleasures I’ve found in life is that solo time spent reflecting on where I am, where i’m going, and where I’ve been. No planned destination and no reason. I call this riding in a bubble. A solo adventure. I am alone and surrounded by my thoughts, the hum of four cylinders singing at 6k RPM.
Yesterday’s bubble ride was 110 miles of roaming. A straight shot up K-7 out of Olathe and into Leavenworth . A slight turn right over into Missouri and up toward Weston. A trip I’ve driven in my car for work related things more times than I can count.
Weston Bend
In all those trips, I pass by the entrance to Weston Bend Park having never actually turned into it. Being in my bubble, no agenda , no plan, on this day I have no reason to not make that left turn. Passing the gates and winding past groups of travelers, campers, and even other bikers. All while staying in my bubble. I see families with young children and couples on group rides. No plan and no reason other than to keep going.
As I rode through this small but scenic park I was transported into another part of the country. No city, no suburbs, no stop lights, and no stress. Along the way, there were stopping points to observe woods, streams, and even old structures. The old tobacco barn was a popular place for people to stop.
As i continued on in my bubble, I was grateful for what i had done. All those years of passing by a spot like this. More than 15 years of travels and I’d never stopped . Life is too short to miss opportunities and see places, even if they are close to home.
I passed many groups of riders while on my unplanned adventure. All with their own agenda’s and plans. I had no plan and no agenda. Only my bubble.
Looking forward to my next solo adventure. Bouncing along in my bubble.
