It seems like our bodies know where we have been before whether we are conscience of it or not. I have purposefully passed locations I know I have visited in years prior, yet I still find myself pulled over along the roadside, in the same turnouts, only recognizing after dismounting my KLR. But passing years create small changes. Like the Moto man in Port Orford, OR, the jelly fish weren’t in Marshall, CA either.
There was one spot I had to revisit. Not being there for nearly 9 years, my hands still knew where to pull over. Only 3 others know this location for what it is, and It is time to put it in the past. From here, memories will float only along the torrent of the ocean as I let go of what was. Freedom feels damn good and so, I ride on.