An Ode to My Shadow
– Nonfiction by Susan Smith –
Do you remember that late afternoon when I saw you across the room? I do, you called to me from the Toronto motorcycle trade show floor with your lights and dashing flames.
It was love at first sight – and you knew your value – out of my range so I kept on walking.
Over the next couple of days, you haunted me. You distracted me and I knew it was only a matter of time before I reassessed and brought you home.
That was over 14 years ago and over that time you stayed constant while still managing to change me. Change how I see myself and how I interact with the world.
We spent the first five years getting to know each other. I updated your windshield, your handlebars, and your mirrors. All so we could ride together as one. We cruised the greenbelt, joined the riding groups, and even managed to strut with the big boys at Port Dover on Friday 13th.
I rediscovered another side to myself. A part of me that found joy again in the complete freedom you feel as a child when you ride your bicycle with the wind through your hair and the smell of summer all around you. The feeling of being one with the road, unshackled from car interiors, air conditioning and glass windows. In those moments you were my shadow – our paths and shape changed by how we moved together.
Our first trip together was to the East Coast. It was during that trip that I realized that to be a biker you must truly accept that control is not something you can carry with you. To ride safely, you must recognize your vulnerability and with that comes respect for the road and the environment you travel through. We are also selfish, our joy and desire to pursue can come at the expense of leaving the people we love behind with heavy hearts as they fear for our safe return. I carried that with me and even today believe that awareness kept me safe, guided my actions and always brought me home.
And then we took it to the next level. I trusted you – I trusted the decisions I made when I rode you and I took a leap of faith.
Our three-week journey began in Toronto, launched in Massachusetts, and ended in San Francisco with a solitary ride back to BC. We joined so many women on that historic ride across the United States as we honoured two women who did that same road trip on their motorcycles 100 years earlier.
The power of riding with those 100+ women drove me to push myself beyond the walls of fear which occur when facing steep riding terrains, majestic mountains, torrential rainstorms and even racetracks. We did it together though. Over 1400 ft up Pikes Peak, Highway 66, Red Rock Canyon and miles and miles of open fields – coyotes keeping us company as we rode down Highway 50. And we laughed. The kind of laughter that can only be truly shared with kindred spirits. We coddled our bikes in the rain, duck taped you on the rocky roads and kept you tuned for the challenges. We also cried together when we pushed through our limits and supported each other when we tumbled with our bikes and without.
Over the following 5 years there were many smaller trips and group rides throughout southern Ontario. Neither you, my Shadow, or I enjoyed riding through the city streets of Toronto. Our ride never truly started until we were out of the city, following or leading the biker tail lights through the winding roads of Muskoka, Simcoe, or the Niagara Peninsula.
While our friends roared ahead on their faster bigger bikes, we enjoyed the curves, always found our speed, and owned the ride. Yes, there were many times I thought about trading you in but every time I got close, I would return to that feeling of peace and pride I felt every time we conquered another daring ride together. You just never stopped, swayed, or stalled.
I brought you with me when we retired to British Columbia, and I knew from the second we settled here that I had one more long ride I wanted to do with you. The Yukon and all its beauty called me. I wanted to take you, my Shadow, through the glacier lined roads, across the barren Yukon fields, and come as close to Alaska as I safely could – becoming part of the landscape as only a biker can become.
It did not disappoint. You did not disappoint and together we raised many eyebrows when others doubted your capability, and even mine, in crossing some of those rugged construction nightmares to arrive at Dawson City. In our fourteen years together neither one of us had ever been so covered in dust and dirt.
I knew when we arrived home a few weeks later that something had changed. I spent an entire weekend bringing you back to your shining self and all that time I knew it was over. You had served me well and it was time for me to let you go. Time to close that chapter and begin the next. I can’t explain why, there were no scary moments, no spin outs, or close calls. It just felt right.
So here we are just over a year later and saying goodbye. I’m confident you will cast your wonderful Shadow over your new owner, and you will both have many more travels to share. I think of Peter Pan when he lost his shadow – he was incomplete until they were one again. You, my Shadow, are packed away, never lost – just always the treasure and the moments in time which helped define the woman I am today.
About the Author – Susan Smith
Susan Smith describes herself as a creative wannabe. As a recently retired social enterprise consultant and coach she is rediscovering her love for the untamed wild areas of her home in the Okanagan Valley, BC. When she is not hiking those trails you can find her training for a cycling adventure, digging into the newest tech innovations, or sampling the local cuisine with friends and family.
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