Leaving the Good Land and Reflections on My "Hog"

Santa Barbara sunset - breathtaking, as usual

Leaving Santa Barbara, even for a fun adventure, is never easy. Saying goodbye to the land and the people was really hard this time, especially since I may not be back for a long while. I'll miss my friends and their invaluable generosity and care. I'll miss the purple chaparraled mountains, which I traversed quite frequently by myself the past few months (in face of my fear of mountain lions!). I'll miss the trees - apparently there's like one in Cyprus. I'll miss my favorite hangout spots : Douglas Preserve, Hendry's Beach, Brewhouse (farewell my dear Trippel), Dargans, Shoreline Park, The French Press, the overlook at Hope Ranch (location of photo to left). 

Essie @ Foxen Canyon Road

On my flight to New York I've spent a lot of time musing on the adventure I'm about to begin. The feeling seems novel and the excitement fresh, but I realize that my first big daring, adventurous step was actually learning to ride and purchasing my first motorcycle back in March. This milestone was signaled by the reverberations of a victory bell clambering off the cold warehouse walls of the Santa Maria Harley Davidson shop (literally, they have such a bell - this is not just lofty description on my part), applauding my recent transaction in both boldness and irresponsibility. The first time I got on that pretty little Suzuki S40, who I named Essie, I was puttin' around like a kindergardener on training wheels. Two months later, however, I was a streak of red and chrome blazing by on my 652 cc's and the seasalt tailwind of Highway 217. I even made it over the pass one day and into wine country; this was actually a fairly nervewracking experience, as my lightweight Essie struggled to stand upright against the sweeping sundowners. But I made it alive!! The surge of confidence in mastering this new skill is partly what inspired me to take the plunge into Mediterranean waters. 

As I sit here on the plane, beginning leg one of my journey to Cyprus, smiling as my pen moves freely, and laughing with joy at the adorable little boy sitting diagonally from me who just lifted his arms in the air to cheer "one-two-free wift off!", I can't help but feel content, excited, and most of all thankful. After all, even if my time in the Mediterranean lasts only a month, this really is the "wift-off" for what I expect will be quite a ride.