Michael Stewart is an observant guy who writes what he sees. He soaks in a lot: the people around him, the scenery, his interactions. He must carry a recorder with him because he captures good dialogue that is often used to complement a point or narrative. I’m no motorcyclist, but I can appreciate a writer who relates his surroundings to better understand the world we live in.
This is the second motorcycle book I’ve read by Stewart, and I liked it a little better than the previous one. It felt more personal and as if the author stepped outside of his comfort zone a little more. He relates in the book a harrowing motorcycle accident he had and how he climbed out of the abyss of that episode. There are also some humorous encounters with a character who tries to introduce peace and Zen to the higher-strung, no-nonsense Stewart. Good friend Marta, the author's wife, and a few other regulars enter the journey, and we meet some new folks.
Stewart slings out his share of zingers on things he doesn’t like, but he is also reflective, philosophical, and sensitive at times. From chapter four: "Do you ever notice how certain moments feel like they’ve been injected with a shot of octane?” he writes, commenting on a scene with his treasured chums and warm coffee and tasty pastries nearby. In chapter twelve Stewart points out the scenery around him, something he doesn’t do as often as you might think: “With small green meadows, wildflowers, granite, and a majestic sky, the wilderness resembled a Monet painting.”
There are lots of golden nuggets from the road, and from everyday life, that Stewart does a good job of sharing with the world. And if nothing else, you learn a heck of a lot about motorcycles and what to look out for while driving them.