When you don’t ride, you feel it.

The longer you don’t ride, the more you feel it.

It’s an itch, a twitch, a burn — and nothing will sooth it but saddle time.

Such has been this Ural owner the past few days. Over Memorial Day weekend, a holiday, I hardly got any saddle time. Got to do some hiking, some cooking and even a bit of DIY, but not much riding. I felt it though. Felt that tug in my gut, pulling me towards the Patrol in the garage.

On Sunday I got in at least a little riding, and that helped. It wasn’t enough, but it helped. The twitch was still there.

And it grows, oh how it grows. When I don’t ride, my thoughts drift more and more towards riding. I think about the feel of the air around me, the way the Ural responds. I think more and more of all the looks and waves, and the sheer simple joy of buzzing around town on slightly chattery valves and a big green asymmetrical bathtub to my right.

Tuesday night, a real ride. Jodie and I went to a party for a friend who was in town. We’re pretty sure a cop even double-backed around a block just so he could see the Ural again. We got to spend plenty of the evening talking about the Ural, what it was like, how much fun it was.

The next day, the twitch was gone.

Only for now though. More than 2 days of not riding, and I know it’ll be back.

But I know the cure — and it’s supposed to be a nice weekend.

Itch on, twitch. I’ve got saddle time on the way to cure thee.