Carpe diem is everything to these cyclists

They stood in a loose circle, chatting amiably: a clutch of men wearing chaps, heavy black boots and the requisite leather jacket.

Their motorcycles depended on kickstands at jaunty angles to the left and right, chrome polished to a spit-shine, tires detailed so the rubber was black as coal. There were at least a dozen or more clustered about, mechanical animals hungry for the open road, anxious to be free, keen to cut the wind.

If the sun had been shining, the bikes would’ve seemed otherworldly in the cool dawn, icons of adventure adorned in illustrious splashes of silver and gold.

I imagined the riders as they waited perhaps for a straggler or two and then pulled on their helmets, adjusted visors, slid on kid gloves and keyed ignitions. Someone would take the lead and be so bold as to wave them on as he cut a tight circle and wheeled out of the parking lot at the Big Stop in New Minas.

Fortified by java and a desire to conquer the road, these early-morning swashbucklers would head up onto the 101 and just let it ride, cool as a mule and pretty as a picture. Man, you’ve got to love it.

I was on my way to work, of course, and felt a pang of regret seeing them. How awesome to be up and at ‘em so early on a Saturday morning with the day spread out before you like a Thanksgiving feast.

While the rest of the world was either going to bed or wondering what to eat for breakfast, these guys (and women, too!) had it all in the palm of their hand.

No 40 extra winks for them. The weekend had arrived, the road was clear and freedom reigned. What more reason to rev up the bike, meet some friends and dare the day to be anything but fantastic?

Funny, but we tend to admire those who find a little piece of heaven in whatever they do. Seeing those folks Saturday morning made me realize again (for the hundredth time times ten) that if you don’t squeeze this thing for all it’s worth, it’ll pass you by.

It’s easy to get trapped on the hamster wheel of work, kids, sleep; work, kids, sleep. I know plenty of people in that boat and most bemoan the fact that days pass, events accrue and they feel that something has been lost along the way. It’s nothing new and anyone who has been there, done that will say simply that’s the way of it; grow up.

Still, there’s a kid in all of us who wants to play, who needs to find the sense of adventure that coloured every moment of our youthful lives. That’s why at 7:30 a.m. on a quiet Saturday a bunch of motorcyclists will gather when the rest of us are merely stirring. They understand what we have forgotten: carpe diem. Seize the day. Make your fun, find your mojo, because if you don’t go for it, it’ll be gone before you know it.

I gave them a mental salute as I trundled down Prospect toward Commercial Street. What else could I do? They were living the dream, boys and girls. Fortunately, I was lucky enough to share it vicariously, at least until such time that I step off the hamster wheel too and decide to finally seize the day.