Nevada County Picayune and Gurdon Times Newspaper Archive

The view from Wendy's World

Im convinced that is no circle of life. Instead, life is a series of cycles. The players, roles and props may change, but thats about the size of it.

For example, I have movie films of myself at 3 years old. We lived in a house in town with two little strips of concrete from the street to the spot for the car. All tolled, it took 12 tricycle pedals to go the entire length of the drive and I must have made that trip a million times. There wasnt anything exciting at the other end, but it was always worth the trip.

At some point I graduated to a bicycle. I grew up in a neighborhood filled with cousins near my age and we must have ridden another million miles on our bikes. Occasionally, we made the ride to the country store a mile up the road, but mostly we rode to the general vicinity of the interstate bridge and to the top of the hill past my house. There wasnt anything special at either end of that trip either, but it was certainly worth the trip.

I eventually traded in the bike for a scooter. It wasnt fast, but it didnt require my pedal power. It was a step-through model Yamaha made for only a brief period of time.

It was orange.

But I must have put another million miles on that bike. I seldom had a fixed destination in mind but what a glorious feeling to crank up the motor and head somewhere. Anywhere. And the trip was everything.

I was just about the first of my little group with a car of my own. I cant even begin to count the times Id meet up with a friend or two and ride from my house to someone elses house, make The Loop in town and then back. We might stop somewhere for a soda or an ice cream, but the joy was in the ride.

Those meanderings were absolutely worth the trip.

Recently, Ive come into two wonderful possessions. One is a 1952 Plymouth. Its amazing that my mood undergoes a transformation just by in getting into that car. People wave at me in that car. And suddenly, it doesnt matter where Im going. Its just worth the trip.

The other of my new possessions is a motorcycle. (Before you ask, this could be a second childhood or a mid-life crisis, but its still fun.) I feel a bit like a Dachshund - albeit a one-eared Dachshund - with my braid blowing in the wind.

And suddenly I find myself acting just like I did at 3. The only difference is that then I was gearing up a tricycle with no destination in mind. The similarity is that Im absolutely certain that its going to be an incredible trip.

I think Ill go again tomorrow.