HOWL
'Who is this woman? What wild joy is she unable to contain that it escpaes in the form of animalistc manners?'
Last summer, on one of my Bella rides, I howled. This was unexpected. We were flying up Rte. 143, running at the edge of 130 km/h (about the limit of what my sweet, little 650cc beaut can do) when all of a sudden, an “Owww, owww, hooooowwwwwlllll!” escaped from behind my helmet. I gasped, smiled, eyes crinkling, not knowing where or how that howl came to be.
This happened a few more times over the remaining months riding. And now, this summer, the yelp has reappeared. The variations are so interesting.
It is all so very interesting. Who is this woman? What wild joy is she unable to contain that it escpaes in the form of animalistc manners? How was this not a part of her childhood and only now is it excavated like King Tut’s tomb? I was not a howler, not even in my most intimate moments,…