Unshackled

It started at weekends. Friday night – slide off work early, hit the road, destination anywhere. I decide! A B&B, nothing fancy. Saturday – good breakfast then back in the saddle. Full tank of gas, head for Scotland. Big space, big sky. Big rain (who cares?!). Freedom!

Saturday night – beers in an outa-the-way pub. Knowing no-one, being anyone. Feels like a million miles away from the office. Just a weekend of me, the bike, the road and the journey I want to take.

No deadlines. No banal chit-chat. No queues. No ‘On my desk by Wednesday!’ Whatever I want. In my own time. My decision. My Choice. Leave behind the paperwork. Zone out the routine. The real me.

And then back for work on Monday 😦

Then it grew. Too short, need longer. So I did it: took out the map, spread it over the kitchen table. Coffee in hand.

‘Wow – where to start?!’

I planned my first week. Further north into Scotland, west coast island-hopping on the CalMac ferries. No deadlines. No banal chit-chat. No queues. Instead – stunning scenery, great people and good beer. Peace, quiet, time and trails. And I thought weekends were good.

And that was it – hooked. This is the real me, and it’s addictive. I like who I am on the bike. It lets me be the real me – unshackled.

I wouldn’t want it any other way.