Most importantly, though, is you get to watch as the day breaks. All is still. There’s just the sound of you, the bik
e, and the open road. The darkness slowly gives way to the light; there is nothing like that faint early morning light, promising a beautiful day of riding.
I had the opportunity to experience this two weeks ago. I was in Mt. Pleasant (where there is no mountain, or hill, or even an exciting dirt pile), to visit friends for a bi-annual Saturday night party. There was a ride back in Detroit scheduled for that Sunday, and I had committed to be there. I was anticipating meeting up with the group around 11 am, which would have meant leaving Mt. P around 7 for a leisurely ride back to the D. When I got the call that we were meeting at 9 am sharp, I knew it was going to be an early-squirrelly morning.
I donned my leathers, face mask, goggles, gloves, vest, chaps, and two pairs of socks. As you can imagine, this takes a few minutes, and it takes even longer outside in the dark. As I latched the saddlebag, I looked to the east. I stopped my hazy rush and just breathed in the beauty of the morning.
Much to the dismay of those trying to sleep, the beast roared to life at 5:50 am, ready for a hard, fast ride to the big city. After a brief struggle to get free of the gravel 
and grass parking area, I putted down two hundred yards of gravel drive to the two lane country road. I stopped, checked for traffic and wildlife, adjusted my goggles, and gingerly eased the bike off the gravel and on to the pavement.
When I was safely out of immediate earshot of the B&B, I rolled on the throttle. Out of the town proper, the miles began to fly by, and as they did, I twisted the throttle a little more. Soaring Eagle Casino, Oil City, Homer…65, 70… Midland….72, 74…I-75 South, Saginaw, Bridgeport. Fuel stop, Red Bull. Birch Run….80, 85….Waterford, Auburn Hills, Troy….87, 89….I-696 East, Schoenner….Now I was within striking distance. Final fuel stop for the run: 8:35 am. I made it. Plenty of time.
Ride hard; ride free.