I was learning to map my own course and determine my own destination now that my children were no longer a home. A fire burned within my soul, igniting possibilities I previously only dreamed for myself. I was choosing to feather my empty nest with leather and chrome, not a second-hand lover.

I have been exceptionally good at making bad decisions all my life. Fortunately, bad decisions make great stories. Unfortunately, most of my poor judgments have involved a man. It seems a shameful twist of irony that a woman's history is usually all about men.

I wasn't a stranger on this trip. I was a seeker, I was a daughter, a friend, a sister, an aunt, a niece, but most of all, I was true to myself. I honored a part of me that was weary, that had been bruised, challenged, broken, and used up. I asked God to renew my spirit and help me be grateful for the blessings in my life, and He did.

I was 1,600.7 miles from home and alone on my motorcycle. I felt a freedom on Bessie I had not felt before. I had shed 185 pounds of dead weight, and I was finally riding soul-o. I was at peace.