I awoke this morning remembering a Baxter Black poem I heard recited on public radio twenty-some years ago. In it an infamous rodeo bull is eyeing a cowboy he’d several times defeated, who was fixing to ride him again, and musing, “Slow learner, that one.” I have remembered the line all these years because I could relate…to the cowboy, that is. Sometimes I’m a very slow learner…the most recent case in point being yesterday.
I say that “adventure” is anything we undertake which includes a degree of risk for unhappy consequences. My curiosity has gotten me into many such situations, but the one I’m writing about now is driven by my genetics. Believe me, as prone as I am to head into the wilds on a motorcycle, the journey I’ve just begun—and will be on for the rest of my life—is not one I would have chosen.Continue reading “Keeping Promises”