It’s All About Soul
This morning we are leaving Bilbao, where we have spent two nights and we are headed west along the coast of Spain going first to a Medieval town of Santillana de Mar, just beyond Santander. It’s a quaint little cobblestoned village with shops and restaurants (one quaint one which we chose to stop in for lunch). We were supposed to overnight there but had to change our route to go further to another little coastal fishing village of Luces/Llastres. We are now officially over the hump of the roadtrip, headed down the back slope to our finish line in Porto, Portugal. These trips are like stories, they have a beginning, a middle and an end and we are now finished with our mid-ride break, spent touring the Basque city of Bilbao and enjoying a leisurely non-riding day. So, today we are suiting up again and it is this moment when you know just how much you like or are over these motorcycle trips. I can say unequivocally that I love these trips. There is something about being on the road that tugs at a primordial part of my cortex or perhaps my soul. I like the adventure, I like the forcing of myself out of the comfort zone of sitting around and reading, writing and watching the world from a distance. It really is all about soul.
We chose to take the longer, slower coastal road since we were in no hurry and it was forecasted to be a sunny and warm day. You never know when that sunny part is going to be, so we started off in the cooler, overcast coastal weather that promised to wear off soon, which it has now. The road this morning was a blend of rural mountains with their terraced stone walls that look like a mix of the Ring of Kerry in Ireland and the Apennine Mountains in Italy. There’s a short glimpses of the sea here and there, but is mostly mountainous or hilly terrain, fit less for farming and more for grazing sheep, cattle and horses. It always amazes me how well trimmed the pastures seem, which is a testament to the appetites of these graminvores (herbivorous mammals).
As we approached Santillana de Mar, we seemed to cross a section of the Camino de Santiago.. There are numerous paths that the Camino takes, all culminating in Santiago de Compostela at the feet of St. James. We could tell we were overlapping with the Camino because we started to see Peregrinos (pilgrims) walking by the side of the road, their knapsacks adorned with a single seashell, the symbol of the Camino. They were all trudging onward with real or imagined purpose. We saw near the town, multiple hostels and cafes that clearly serve the Peregrino community. As we were leaving town after our lunch break, we passed one older gentleman Peregrino who we had seen walking before lunch. He had made some progress, but there was no mistaking the time it took to walk even a small part of The Way, as it is called . Pilgrims cover 12-15 miles of distance per day. That means that to cover the 500 miles of the Camino takes pilgrims 35-40 days assuming they walk every day. That is dedication and THAT is truly all about soul. While everybody walks the Camino for their own reasons, that highlights to me that soul is less about religion and more about what matters to you.
What matters to us changes throughout our lives for most people. In fact, I would say that our life paths help cast the reference points from which we derive our purpose or what matters most to us. We can all probably agree that family is at the top of most of our lists in one form or another throughout our lives, but even within that category, things probably change priority over time. My children are grown and on their own now, as they should be, and while that doesn’t make them less important to me, they are less of a priority than when they were dependents. Right now Kim, as my primary relationship, is at the top of my priority list. My happiness is very linked to her well-being and thus, she represents the biggest piece of my soul.
I also think there are symbolic indicators of soul that we each possess. For me, I am heavily invested in motorcycling, but it has little to do with the physical bike or it’s accoutrement. Motorcycling links me to my past since I started riding when I was fourteen and living in Rome. That then connects me to my mother , who was the reason for the venue and who had the wisdom to endorse my involvement in motorcycling as a key element in my move towards independence. Motorcycling is also an identity for me. I have one tattoo and will only ever have one, and it’s on my left upper arm, and is for my motorcycle club. Motorcycling means freedom to me. And on trips like these, it keeps me connected to my globalism and my natural wanderlust. All of those elements along with a few others are what constitute the core of my soul.
People like to say that these trips are less about the ride and more about the camaraderie and the people. I get that, but after 55 years of this overall and 27 with this particular group, I know that groups morph and people come and go. None of the original group members besides me ride any more (at least not with the group). They have mostly aged out (one just faded away). Even the next generation have largely gone their own ways. That does have an impact on my connection to the group, but luckily there are newer members I am now enjoying rides with. That all causes me to think that the soul of the matter is not the people or the group or even the motorcycle, but rather the motorcycling. The process of riding with friends and experiencing new places and doing it on two wheels really means something to me. It is my soulful activity.
Right now I am sitting in a rest stop in the shade with a light breeze blowing up the hillside. The views from this lookout go back east along the coast near Santander. We are 50 miles from our hotel and the rest of the gang including Kim are already in what she tells me is another lovely hotel. I am sitting here because Bruce had to make a call with his wife and her doctor and we in our motorcycle group are like the Marine Corps. We never leave a man behind, we never leave our wing man. I am totally comfortable riding in Europe and speak decent Spanish. I also have a fully functional GPS, so it’s logical that I should wait and guide Bruce into the barn. We’ve been here for 90 minutes so far, so I suspect his call will end soon. It’s clearly an important call and Bruce, like all our members is important to us. The only cost to me of doing this is that I’m writing this story on my iPhone sitting on a rock rather than on my iPad on a chair in my hotel room. In other words, Bruce is doing me a favor. I get to spend more time enjoying the lovely Spanish countryside like all the Peregrinos. After all, we are all pilgrims and it really is all about soul.