So the facebook status thing always starts "Ashley is..." Currently, the rest is something like "thanking God for a safe motorcycle ride with Dad"...That's basically the intro for this entry because tonight I went on a ride with my dad to and from our favorite Mexican place. Just the two of us. A father-daughter outing. Good times... I don't remember exactly when my parents started to ride motorcyles. Maybe it was a year or two before I went on STINT. That's how you measure life after STINT. There was before STINT, during STINT, and after STINT...The point is this: They've been riding motorcycles for quite a while now. It's a hobby that's sticking. I partly attribute it to the fact that there's community wrapped up in it. There are a lot of them that ride together regularly. It's like a fellowship...of the bikers... I remember when I was a little girl on Sawmill...My dad was selling his motorcycle, and he took me and my sister on a ride around the neighborhood before its new owner came for it...That was the last time that I had ever been on a motorcyle, though I did rent a scooter last summer in Croatia with Lauren and Andrew. And then this year in Morocco I rode a camel...Perhaps that's beyond comparison in this instance... So since I got back from Sarajevo, my dad has been saying that he'd like to take me on a ride, and as it turns out, tonight was the night. We decided on a father-daughter to Fiesta Brava. The ride: my dad's Kawasaki. So I put on the appropriate attire: boots, pants, shirt, jacket, and helmet...After a quick tutorial ("Hold on to your grips. Lean in when I lean in. Lean out when I lean out. When we turn, don't just sit straight up...Lean with me; lean into the turn..."), my dad and I were on our way... I would't exactly say that I was a natural. My dad took us on the back roads for a while, going out of the way instead of taking a direct way to the restaurant. I was holding on for dear life. I was pretty stiff through even the straightest parts of the road, and especially the moments of turning, even with the slightest curve, taking one hand off the grip to place a hand on my dad's back to lean with him. I was very thankful that my dad had put the trunk on the bike, providing a bit of support for me to lean back on. Thankful that I had a mask thing over my face to block out the wind.... We came to a light at one point, and my dad put up his mask thing to ask me how I was feeling and to tell me that I was doing well. To tell me that he could hardly tell that I was even riding with him at all...When we passed the hospital where my sister works, I heard him shout out: "Hi, Rachel!" Nice to know that I'm not the only one who does things like that... Of course, I thought about things like fear. Things like risk. Things like God. At any moment I could have made the slightest mistake, and we could have been goners. Or maybe it could have been my dad's mistake. Or that of another driver. My parents go on bike trips into the mountains, and they ride all kinds of switchbacks up and down the mountains. Our ride was nothing in comparison, but my mind wondered what would come next with each speedy turn that my dad made... The sun was setting as we were riding, but my eyes were fixed on the road. Or, at least, I tried to fix them on the road. I couldn't look directly in front of the bike because my dad was sitting in the driver's seat right in front of me. His helmet blocking my view. It's like that with us, isn't it? We try to see what's coming up. Looking to the left and right, trying to increase our visibility of what's on the horizon. Trying to anticipate every bend in the road so as to lean into it. If you lean out, you're a goner. The best thing to do, the only thing to do, is to hold on and to lean into it, to lean into Him, the Driver. He sees it so clearly. He has full visibility, and He's the one doing the driving. We're along for the ride. He has so many things in place for our protection, for our good... Every turn, every straight shot...Just hold on...Lean in when I lean in...Lean out when I lean out...Move when I move... A break for dinner...a feast...It always is when Dad's treating, isn't it? The ride back...Even the ride out of the parking lot felt familiar, more natural. I didn't need to hold on to the grips so tightly as before. I felt my body loosen up and was even able to look around at some of our surroundings...I wasn't afraid or nervous. I didn't think about us falling. I trusted every move, every turn that my dad made, and I moved when he moved, sometimes not even knowing that I was doing it... Will I go out again any time soon? I don't know. But I do that it's something that I'm not likely to forget any time soon... Just hold on...Lean in when I lean in...Lean out when I lean out...Move when I move... | 
