Yesterday I went in for work for a bit and then peeled out on the murdercycle for a little jaunt to blow the dust off the brain. I like BW's blog because he does this all the time and gets off the back roads to find places most of us will never see. His seems to be a journey of the soul and as I get older, his journey makes more and more sense to me. There is a certain satisfaction to be found in the middle of nowhere with only the ghosts and wind for company, and you get a certain appreciation for them knowing that you may never be back this way again.
This is St. Matthews church in Viking. It was built in 1935 "In a unique 16th century design". Yannow, I see this as more like a bunch of stubble jumping farmers trying to build a church that they think looks like something out of the 16th century! The construction must have been a little spotty; the place is falling apart today and looks to be held together with duct tape and the love of volunteers. They probably built this thing for fun, in a time when there were no phones, internet, TV, radio and probably not even any electricity.
I pulled into a playground in Killam shucked off the leathers and helmet, put on some elevator music on the motorcycle stereo...and sat my old fat arse down on a park bench. It's high summer and hotter n' hell...but God sent me a cool breeze and my eyelids started to droop. I did manage to snap a last pic before I started sawing logs.
There were a few splotches of yellow leaves on the trees. Then I just clunked out, carried away on a summer breeze with the rustling of the leaves in my ears.
I woke up about a half hour later with my chin on my chest and my ass on pins and needles - and headed for home.
That was 350 kms well wasted.