Ridin', rain and the CMC National rally

I had grand plans of heading to the east coast later this summer. Specifically to ride the Cabot Trail - in both directions - but also to explore some more of our beautiful country and further enrich my life.

And then my dad died.

How are these two seemingly completely separate life events related, you find yourself wondering?

Well, I am about to tell you. When dad died in June I found myself pondering what I was going to do. Both to honor my father, as well as to survive the grieving process in a safe and sober fashion.

Sitting at breakfast with my friend James the morning after dad passed away, he posed the question. "So, what are you going to do now?"

The unspoken but weighted tag to that question being "to make it through this healthy and whole".

'I don't know' I replied. 'Several people have suggested that I take a ride in memory of dad'.

"Where would you go?" enquired my own personal Yoda.

'I really have no idea', I answered. And then, just as quick as that, I knew.

40 years ago, dad took my younger brother and myself on a camping trip to Turkey Point and Long Point, Ontario.

It remains my fondest father-son memory.

I looked at James over the rim of my coffee mug and said "yes I do. Turkey Point. I am going to ride to Turkey Point."

After 7 years of friendship James is used to my rather disjointed and random statements of fact and clarity, knowing that what makes perfect sense to me will soon be explained. It generally only requires having to wait a minute for me to slow the brain enough to sort it out.

I shared that camping trip of 40 years ago to a patiently listening friend, and realized as my eyes began to well with tears that there were still very strong emotions tied to a 6 year old little boy inside of me. And in that moment realized that I had just experienced the first of what I hope are many moments of my dad offering me a little 'nudge' from wherever he is stirring things up now.

Thanks dad.

I went on a 5 day tour to Sarnia, Turkey Point and Long Point to say goodbye. And serendipitously spent those days with dad. He was with me every moment, and made his presence known with a subtlety that he never possessed in life.

Another one of the gifts that I received while on that journey to honor my dad was the opening of my eyes to just how beautiful that region of Ontario is.

Which brings us back to the beginning. And the connection.

I have decided that, for the remainder of this year anyway, my vacation(s) will come in the form of long-weekends.

And And so, here I am, at 8:45 on Friday morning, drinking from a steaming mug of black coffee and looking out over the water in...

Yes, Turkey Point.

The motorcycle group that I ride with- the Canadian Motorcycle Cruisers, or CMC, are holding our annual National Rally in Sarnia over the August long weekend.

A mere 3 hours from Turkey Point.

It was obvious to me that the way to truly maximize the enjoyment that this event offers was to turn it into a wee bit of an adventure, so I made my long-weekend longer by taking to the road at 10:00am Thursday morning and heading to Turkey Point.

Did I mention 'adventure'?

The first 4 hours of my ride took place in the heaviest rain that I have ever ridden in. Falling in sheets made up of marble-sized raindrops, people were pulling over in their cars because the could not see. Through their windshields. Of their climate-controlled, and very dry, cars.

It took me a little more than 4 hours to cover 300 kilometers. My gloves were soaked through and could not have been wetter had I showered with them on. My right foot was a little damp. And I spent a lot more time on the slab (401) than I had intended. But the sun finally broke through. And my gloves dried out. And I arrived in Turkey Point. And smiled.

Thanks again dad. I love you man.

More from the road later...