“Several shades of hazy blue hung over the landscape like a heavy tapestry, giving the Blue Ridge Mountains its name. I stopped at one of the scenic overlooks, switched off the bike, and sat in the absolute stillness of the mountains. Their silence was a soothing balm for my soul. The maternal rhythm of nature is a tonic that heals emotionally. I just wanted to sit still, breathe deeply, and match my heartbeat to that rhythm.” GodSilenceTravelMountainsNature S BeautySolitude QuotesMotorcyclesBlue Ridge Book:Riding Soul-O Source: Riding Soul-O
“Furthermore, my soul was sick, and heart shattered, seemingly beyond repair. I needed consolation. I sought redemption in the wind. I knew that on Bessie I could navigate around the soul sickness, find solace in the journey, and steer in the opposite direction of all the hefty feelings bearing down on me.” TravelRedemptionMotorcyclesConsolation For A Broken HeartSoul Sickness Book:Riding Soul-O Source: Riding Soul-O
“When there was nothing left to do, but say goodbye, I hugged my dad, thanked him for the hospitality, and we both agreed it had been a good visit. Tears welled up in his eyes, and I realized at that moment, it doesn't matter how old our children or parents are, it doesn't get any easier to say good by. I had lost my younger daughter; my oldest will have moved out by the time I returned home, and dad was saying goodby to his oldest daughter. The circle of life connected us. How many times over the last forty-plus years had my dad reluctantly, with tears in his eyes, said goodbye to me? It made my own situation with my daughters more poignant.” DadTravelAbsenceMemoirGoodbyeDaughters Book:Riding Soul-O Source: Riding Soul-O
“This soul-o trip on Bessie was a spiritual renewal, a healing, a time to realize that no matter what life throws in my direction, I can cope, endure, and reach the other side of any situation a stronger woman.” HopeTravelEndureMemoirWomen EmpowermentMotorcycleAdventure Travel Book:Riding Soul-O Source: Riding Soul-O
“I associate so many fond memories with food. On that damp evening, along in a tiny restaurant smelling of mildew and lobster, I was 1,600 miles from everyone I knew and loved. After one bite of the pie, I closed my eyes, and taste transported me back to the warm, familiar comfort of my grandmother's kitchen. She always had a pie sitting on the kitchen counter, ready to serve, and a fresh pot of coffee brewing.” TravelMemoirComfort FoodMemories Of LoveGrandmother Cooking Book:Riding Soul-O Source: Riding Soul-O