I was sad one day in January. That statement could be stretched to say I was sad most days in January. The dog and I went to Squamish on this particular day. I noticed David at the pump, and spilling cheap coffee on my already-wretched self, I ran outside. There he was, pink-faced and happy, riding his motorcycle on that brisk day. He was always riding his motorcycle.
Later that night, he sent me the following, French- Canadian voice and all:
“They prefer the busy highway…. Peoples don’t take the time to explore. They always take the easy way. The way everyone takes. There is so much to enjoy when you take the time to make a little detour. I fucked up many times and that is life at its purest. I’ve seen beautiful things and it’s what matters.”
“By the way, I only been riding two year. I fucked up many times and that is life at its purest. I’ve seen beautiful things and it’s what matters. Sometimes I don’t take pictures just to keep it to myself.”
David was always there to make me smile. And he still is. Sometimes I see him, often I dream of that bike. I miss him deeply, but every kilometer and he is there with me.