Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Waking
A couple of days ago I posted a new piece named "Waking" on the Writing page of my website. http://dragonwrideradventures.com
Friday, July 6, 2012
The sun and the wind
It's been weeks since last I saw a sunset, felt the warmth of its rays on my skin, the last remnants of the golden red rays of light dancing off the water, disappearing into the depth of my eyes. But the wind...the wind never disappears, it never leaves, it's there waiting when I emerge from the dark hovel which I am holed up in...laboring to find the ideas and glimmering thoughts that light up my world. The wind swirls in place waiting, waiting, and it knows what I want, senses what I need. The hot rays of the afternoon sun crash down on my body, basting my skin in its warmth. As my body absorbs every last ray it can stand, the wind ramps up its speed and rushes over the shallow inlet waters, over the shell covered beaches, over gleaming, warm salt water. The afternoon sand glows orange as the wind, ever present, wraps itself around my soul and cools my skin...all in an effort to remind me...even when I can't feel them in the last rays of the sunset, the wind ushers those feelings to me from the west.
~Topher
~Topher
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
You adventure your way and I'll adventure mine
The last couple of days have been hard. I was torn between continuing my adventure traveling around the country and returning to "the real world." Therefore, instead of taking the time to explore the Mojave and and Moab, I have been driving east. My little '09 Prius reminds me of "The Little Engine that Could." Tug, as I have named her, is pulling a trailer loaded with Dragon, my R1200GS. She just keeps on humming along, slow at times, but never letting us down. At times I think I can actually hear her: "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can." So far, Tug has taken us from Covington, Georgia, across southern Texas to San Clemente, California, and then north up the coast on the Pacific Coast Highway, as far as Manchester and east to Sacramento and Yosemite, south into the Mojave and east again through Utah to Grand Junction, Colorado. In all, this has been a 5,500 plus mile journey for us and Tug just keeps pulling us along.
Meanwhile, Dragon has only clocked a little over 1,300 miles exploring Big Thicket National Preserve and the Sam Houston National Forest in Texas, Yosemite National Park, the Pacific Coast Highway from its beginning in San Clemente up to the Redwood National Park just south of Crescent City, CA. If a year ago, you had told me that I would have seen this much of the country on the trip of a lifetime and that I would spend more time in Tug than on Dragon, I would have thought that idea preposterous. Now, looking back, I think that doing the entire journey this way has been brilliant. I would not trade this for the world. I wish that I had ridden more of the journey and will make a point of doing that going forward, but the addition of Tug and her trailer was born of necessity.
When I first hatched this plan in early April of 2012, I was discussing it and dreaming about making this trip with my loving companion Merlin, whom you may have read about in previous stories. But doing a 10,0000 mile adventure on a motorcycle, even one as comfortable and capable as Dragon, simply was not feasible for little Merlin's frail 14 year old body. So enter Tug and a new trailer as a means of traveling from place to place in comfort, using Dragon as our day tripper to see the sites. Merlin and I planned the entire trip, prepared and accounted for all the know issues of traveling together. We did not see an alternative, but before the official trip began, Merlin passed away. There I was ready to go, all contingencies accounted, ready for to drive Tug and Dragon across this beautiful country. Had I not originally planned on taking Merlin, this trip--like so many others before it--would have been just Dragon and me traveling with the bare essentials. Instead, we have living quarters, air conditioning in the scorching heat of the desert, room for a week's worth of clothing, food and cooking supplies, my guitar, various and sundry electronics, both helmet for different needs (on/off road), shoes, flip flops, and boots, extra jackets and fishing gear, all conveniences that I would have done without and been happy to, but that I have been glad to have at times. Thanks to Merlin, instead of having a vehicle that has to be both transport (rushing to get to the next place to get setup and camped early and for leisure to absorb the countryside from inside my helmet, and miss out on many of the little things along the way), I have been able to take my time getting from place to place. Driving at night is safer. Stopping on the road side on a whim, grabbing my camera from the seat beside me, and hiking into the bush to take a picture is much more comfortable and convenient and less time consuming. I'm not roasting in my suit or taking 15 minutes to remove it. Traveling on Dragon means putting on my motorcycle gear (and taking it off) and it is more likely that my breaks include a quick stop for moment to observe scenic vistas along the roadway and then riding away with nothing more than a memory for myself and no photo to share with the world.
I hope in the future I will remember what a blessing traveling with Tug has been and choose to do it this way again. People give me the most curious looks and other bikers look at me askew for towing my adventure bike from place to place. I keep reminding myself, I have an adventure bike, but this is my adventure. You adventure your way and I'll adventure mine! So, to you I say, "Let your adventure take shape your way, whether it is on two wheels, three wheels, four wheels, or in my my case, eight wheels. Or with no wheels at all! Stay true to your adventure because you're the one out there, not anyone else!
Meanwhile, Dragon has only clocked a little over 1,300 miles exploring Big Thicket National Preserve and the Sam Houston National Forest in Texas, Yosemite National Park, the Pacific Coast Highway from its beginning in San Clemente up to the Redwood National Park just south of Crescent City, CA. If a year ago, you had told me that I would have seen this much of the country on the trip of a lifetime and that I would spend more time in Tug than on Dragon, I would have thought that idea preposterous. Now, looking back, I think that doing the entire journey this way has been brilliant. I would not trade this for the world. I wish that I had ridden more of the journey and will make a point of doing that going forward, but the addition of Tug and her trailer was born of necessity.
When I first hatched this plan in early April of 2012, I was discussing it and dreaming about making this trip with my loving companion Merlin, whom you may have read about in previous stories. But doing a 10,0000 mile adventure on a motorcycle, even one as comfortable and capable as Dragon, simply was not feasible for little Merlin's frail 14 year old body. So enter Tug and a new trailer as a means of traveling from place to place in comfort, using Dragon as our day tripper to see the sites. Merlin and I planned the entire trip, prepared and accounted for all the know issues of traveling together. We did not see an alternative, but before the official trip began, Merlin passed away. There I was ready to go, all contingencies accounted, ready for to drive Tug and Dragon across this beautiful country. Had I not originally planned on taking Merlin, this trip--like so many others before it--would have been just Dragon and me traveling with the bare essentials. Instead, we have living quarters, air conditioning in the scorching heat of the desert, room for a week's worth of clothing, food and cooking supplies, my guitar, various and sundry electronics, both helmet for different needs (on/off road), shoes, flip flops, and boots, extra jackets and fishing gear, all conveniences that I would have done without and been happy to, but that I have been glad to have at times. Thanks to Merlin, instead of having a vehicle that has to be both transport (rushing to get to the next place to get setup and camped early and for leisure to absorb the countryside from inside my helmet, and miss out on many of the little things along the way), I have been able to take my time getting from place to place. Driving at night is safer. Stopping on the road side on a whim, grabbing my camera from the seat beside me, and hiking into the bush to take a picture is much more comfortable and convenient and less time consuming. I'm not roasting in my suit or taking 15 minutes to remove it. Traveling on Dragon means putting on my motorcycle gear (and taking it off) and it is more likely that my breaks include a quick stop for moment to observe scenic vistas along the roadway and then riding away with nothing more than a memory for myself and no photo to share with the world.
I hope in the future I will remember what a blessing traveling with Tug has been and choose to do it this way again. People give me the most curious looks and other bikers look at me askew for towing my adventure bike from place to place. I keep reminding myself, I have an adventure bike, but this is my adventure. You adventure your way and I'll adventure mine! So, to you I say, "Let your adventure take shape your way, whether it is on two wheels, three wheels, four wheels, or in my my case, eight wheels. Or with no wheels at all! Stay true to your adventure because you're the one out there, not anyone else!
Friday, June 1, 2012
Ride to the Redwoods and Back
Yesterday, I had the best ride of the trip which entailed 11 hours in the saddle and more switchbacks than I could count on the Pacific Coast Highway and CA-101. The purpose of the ride was two-fold: see the Redwoods and complete the spreading of Merlin's ashes.
The rush of adrenaline and endorphins from riding was like nothing else. The pull of the earth as I round each corner, feeling the suspension of my spine and that of the bike enforces the feeling of oneness with the machine as it simply becomes an extension of you or perhaps the other way round. The twinge in my legs and back as the rear tire finds loose gravel on the ground and slides ever so slightly in the turn. The vibration in my hands as the smooth caress of the fresh glistening asphalt abruptly changes to the course, dull, gravelly pavement of old surface. I can feel the wheels of time roll back as the trees and plants around me begin to become larger and more majestic. The road gyrates in all direction, distracting me from the changes that are now rapidly occurring. Signs are posted to beware of Elk crossing. While looking at the huge display of moose statues in the campground, I suddenly notice one of them move, and look back from across the 50 yards of grass to say "Moose? Where? AlI I see are Elk!"
On a quiet road in the midst of Redwood giants, I dismount from Dragon and note as I venture onto a small path that even the smallest vegetation in these woods is almost my height. I look up to see nothing but tree...large enough around to almost encompass my peripheral vision; this tree has burrows in the base large enough for me to easily fit into, yet when I look up, straight up the tree, I cannot see the top, and I can't see sky either. There is a gentle breeze in the forest, but not enough of a breeze to rustle the vegetation as it just did 50 feet away. Seconds later, another sound--only closer and this time from the left. Turning, I realize that I have ventured several hundred feet into the forest, although it didn't seem that far when walking tree to tree and taking pictures. It is now an overwhelming distance between me and the safety of Dragon. Slowly, but with purpose, I make my way across the distance and when, once again, I feel the familiar solidity of paved ground under my riding boots, I turn quickly to see what it was that was following me. There was no movement. At this point, even the wind has ceased. Climbing back on Dragon, we (Merlin and I) set out further north in search of where the Redwood Nat'l Park meets the ocean. I am awestruck at the site! The Redwoods are on one side of me and the Pacific Ocean is on the other. Looking out into the ocean, I walk down the course dark sand that makes up the beaches and shoreline of northern California. The tide is on its way in along with the fog, as it creeps its way onto shore and steals away into the redwoods. Here, I said my last farewell to Merlin, reminding him that we finally made it together. Here is where the last of his ashes will lay, but I am not parting with his loving spirit and wisdom as they will live with me forever in my heart.
The return trip was an exercise in melding stamina, determination, and pure joy into one passionate ride through the same curves that so challenged and inspired my riding some six hours before. Now, however, it is dark, the sweet yet pungent smell of decaying redwood and leaves fills every breath with a reminder that I am in the presence of the most majestic living plants I have ever experienced. They stand tall against the cold and wind, having witnessed the entry of man if not life into their midst. Throughout the course of history, the forest has thrived in spite of the changes it has seen. On the edges of the road where the asphalt impinges on the daily life of the forest, eyes glow in the brilliance of the headlight, many looking back to take heed of the possible danger, others looking askance at the oncoming object, stunned and motionless until the final seconds of my approach when the animal makes a sudden decision to dart one direction or the other while another simply freezes, looking on in horror. On this night, we are not in harms way--me or the animals in the forest.
On the final stretch, I feel the cold dampness of the pacific seeping into my suit. Following the coast in these hills requires many turns and switchbacks and the ocean and wind seem to know it, together finding me at my most vulnerable, leaning hard into a right switch while climbing hard. Just as I accelerate to complete the maneuver, a cold blast of wind races down the road carrying the salty mist of the sea and blurring my vision once again. On the straightaways, the wind hit the cliffs and wraps around the top pulling me closer to the edge. In the distance is a faint light. That's it. The end of today's journey. Ahhh, what a brilliant day! I wonder what tomorrow...
~Topher
The rush of adrenaline and endorphins from riding was like nothing else. The pull of the earth as I round each corner, feeling the suspension of my spine and that of the bike enforces the feeling of oneness with the machine as it simply becomes an extension of you or perhaps the other way round. The twinge in my legs and back as the rear tire finds loose gravel on the ground and slides ever so slightly in the turn. The vibration in my hands as the smooth caress of the fresh glistening asphalt abruptly changes to the course, dull, gravelly pavement of old surface. I can feel the wheels of time roll back as the trees and plants around me begin to become larger and more majestic. The road gyrates in all direction, distracting me from the changes that are now rapidly occurring. Signs are posted to beware of Elk crossing. While looking at the huge display of moose statues in the campground, I suddenly notice one of them move, and look back from across the 50 yards of grass to say "Moose? Where? AlI I see are Elk!"
On a quiet road in the midst of Redwood giants, I dismount from Dragon and note as I venture onto a small path that even the smallest vegetation in these woods is almost my height. I look up to see nothing but tree...large enough around to almost encompass my peripheral vision; this tree has burrows in the base large enough for me to easily fit into, yet when I look up, straight up the tree, I cannot see the top, and I can't see sky either. There is a gentle breeze in the forest, but not enough of a breeze to rustle the vegetation as it just did 50 feet away. Seconds later, another sound--only closer and this time from the left. Turning, I realize that I have ventured several hundred feet into the forest, although it didn't seem that far when walking tree to tree and taking pictures. It is now an overwhelming distance between me and the safety of Dragon. Slowly, but with purpose, I make my way across the distance and when, once again, I feel the familiar solidity of paved ground under my riding boots, I turn quickly to see what it was that was following me. There was no movement. At this point, even the wind has ceased. Climbing back on Dragon, we (Merlin and I) set out further north in search of where the Redwood Nat'l Park meets the ocean. I am awestruck at the site! The Redwoods are on one side of me and the Pacific Ocean is on the other. Looking out into the ocean, I walk down the course dark sand that makes up the beaches and shoreline of northern California. The tide is on its way in along with the fog, as it creeps its way onto shore and steals away into the redwoods. Here, I said my last farewell to Merlin, reminding him that we finally made it together. Here is where the last of his ashes will lay, but I am not parting with his loving spirit and wisdom as they will live with me forever in my heart.
The return trip was an exercise in melding stamina, determination, and pure joy into one passionate ride through the same curves that so challenged and inspired my riding some six hours before. Now, however, it is dark, the sweet yet pungent smell of decaying redwood and leaves fills every breath with a reminder that I am in the presence of the most majestic living plants I have ever experienced. They stand tall against the cold and wind, having witnessed the entry of man if not life into their midst. Throughout the course of history, the forest has thrived in spite of the changes it has seen. On the edges of the road where the asphalt impinges on the daily life of the forest, eyes glow in the brilliance of the headlight, many looking back to take heed of the possible danger, others looking askance at the oncoming object, stunned and motionless until the final seconds of my approach when the animal makes a sudden decision to dart one direction or the other while another simply freezes, looking on in horror. On this night, we are not in harms way--me or the animals in the forest.
On the final stretch, I feel the cold dampness of the pacific seeping into my suit. Following the coast in these hills requires many turns and switchbacks and the ocean and wind seem to know it, together finding me at my most vulnerable, leaning hard into a right switch while climbing hard. Just as I accelerate to complete the maneuver, a cold blast of wind races down the road carrying the salty mist of the sea and blurring my vision once again. On the straightaways, the wind hit the cliffs and wraps around the top pulling me closer to the edge. In the distance is a faint light. That's it. The end of today's journey. Ahhh, what a brilliant day! I wonder what tomorrow...
~Topher
Monday, May 28, 2012
Yosemite village...parking lot...you could save a life!
It's now been 5 minutes and I can breathe again! I will start off by telling you that I am perfectly fine...and so is Dragon...she just has a scratch and a ding.
I stood in line for 15 minutes waiting on the express shuttle to the Yosemite Visitor Center which is a half mile from the parking lot. Okay, so I'm a wimp. My foot is still killing me and my riding boots are just that, "Riding Boots." I decided I would just ride over and see it from the outside and maybe come back tomorrow for my passport stamp. I tool along through the village, checking it out, and realize that there may be some open parking spots right up close. I round a corner in the parking lot and see a white E 350 touring van stopped in the middle of the lot. I see the spot he is gonna turn into and think to myself, "That'll be tight but he can do it." Then I suddenly notice the reverse lights come on. I'm like, "Okay, he's decided to give himself a little room. Cool." Then the van begins to pick up speed. I stop Dragon in the middle of the road, but I can do nothing except try to push backward with my feet. At this moment, I am hating the fact that I have increased the suspension for a smoother ride and think, "Oh shit this is a downward slant and I'm going nowhere!" Picking up more speed as he gets closer, the driver of the van is backing up--either with no regard for what's behind him or he just isn't looking! Realizing I have to try to avoid the inevitable, I hit the kill switch, pull the clutch, set the tire perpendicular to the van's bumper, lighten the weight on my feet, and lay on the horn! The van hits me. After being pushed about 5 feet, the bike and van come to a halt. I manage to pull the bike away from the van. I'm checking the bike for damage (aside from a scratch on the bumper where the handlebar twisted and it hit the rim, there is zero damage) when a young man and woman come running back to me yelling, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" All I could manage to say was, "I'm fine, but I'm not sure about my bike!" After completing a thorough check of Dragon, I determine everything is fine. The young man who was driving gives me a hug, shakes my hand, apologizing profusely. I tell him, "I'm alright and so is my bike. Next time neither you nor the rider may be so lucky! Please, look twice! You could save a life!" Man, that was crap! Really? That's the best thing I could think to say to this guy who could have killed me? If I had been riding anything other than an Enduro bike, there would have been extensive damage.
I headed back to the the car and called it a day. So, I'm heading north again. All in all, it was a great day, closing with a spectacular sunset!
~Topher
I stood in line for 15 minutes waiting on the express shuttle to the Yosemite Visitor Center which is a half mile from the parking lot. Okay, so I'm a wimp. My foot is still killing me and my riding boots are just that, "Riding Boots." I decided I would just ride over and see it from the outside and maybe come back tomorrow for my passport stamp. I tool along through the village, checking it out, and realize that there may be some open parking spots right up close. I round a corner in the parking lot and see a white E 350 touring van stopped in the middle of the lot. I see the spot he is gonna turn into and think to myself, "That'll be tight but he can do it." Then I suddenly notice the reverse lights come on. I'm like, "Okay, he's decided to give himself a little room. Cool." Then the van begins to pick up speed. I stop Dragon in the middle of the road, but I can do nothing except try to push backward with my feet. At this moment, I am hating the fact that I have increased the suspension for a smoother ride and think, "Oh shit this is a downward slant and I'm going nowhere!" Picking up more speed as he gets closer, the driver of the van is backing up--either with no regard for what's behind him or he just isn't looking! Realizing I have to try to avoid the inevitable, I hit the kill switch, pull the clutch, set the tire perpendicular to the van's bumper, lighten the weight on my feet, and lay on the horn! The van hits me. After being pushed about 5 feet, the bike and van come to a halt. I manage to pull the bike away from the van. I'm checking the bike for damage (aside from a scratch on the bumper where the handlebar twisted and it hit the rim, there is zero damage) when a young man and woman come running back to me yelling, "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" All I could manage to say was, "I'm fine, but I'm not sure about my bike!" After completing a thorough check of Dragon, I determine everything is fine. The young man who was driving gives me a hug, shakes my hand, apologizing profusely. I tell him, "I'm alright and so is my bike. Next time neither you nor the rider may be so lucky! Please, look twice! You could save a life!" Man, that was crap! Really? That's the best thing I could think to say to this guy who could have killed me? If I had been riding anything other than an Enduro bike, there would have been extensive damage.
I headed back to the the car and called it a day. So, I'm heading north again. All in all, it was a great day, closing with a spectacular sunset!
~Topher
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Beautiful Ridin...
I road into the Sequoia National Forest...the roads go from gentle curving turns that you just relax into. Sitting back in my seat, the bike glides from one curve to the next. Just when I think you can relax and view the scenery, 41 jumps up and gets me involved. The road drops away to the left quickly and the bike reacts; I feel gravity plunge, the suspension and my stomach rise into my chest. Just as I get it together, the road banks hard right and the bike falls into line and the endorphins have raced into my system. The smell of dense forest decay and fresh sequoia growth fill my senses while the wind pours into my helmet. I force myself to look as far as I can through the next curve in anticipation of a new surprise and the mountain answers...the line disappears up and into the trees...along with my heart.
On my return ride to the campsite, I stopped for gas and well, you guessed it...too much time has passed since my last debacle and right after lunch, the Dragon reared her head! She started spitting and sputtering, then just cut out. I got her off the road before being run over. After coaxing her back to life, we limped back to our camp site where I began taking her apart!Apparently, a guy throwing motorcycle parts and tools around was not a noteworthy sight as no one around me seemed to notice or care. Before long, however, my next door neighbor strolled over.
"You alright over there?" he asked.
Rolling out from under Dragon, I explained my issue and that I was at a loss for how to fix it.
At this point, somewhat confused he asked, "How far do you have to go to get home?"
"Luckily, not far since I towed her just around the fence to the trailer," I said.
With a disapproving scowl on his face, he continued: "You trailered your bike? Then I guess you don't have to have it fixed immediately."
"I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out or find a mechanic somewhere who can. I just won't be able to do it without the manuals and light."
The sun was beginning to sink below the tree line as we spoke. "Well, I'm no mechanic so I won't be of any help. Besides, I just saw you laying sprawled out under the bike and I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt. Have a safe Drive Home," he said as he walked away.
Well, you just can't understand them all. You have to focus on understanding yourself and those you love. Everything else will work itself out.
After a few hours of research, I think I've found the answer. We'll see tomorrow after I rip the bike apart and disconnect the vent hoses for the gas tank...yet another story.
On my return ride to the campsite, I stopped for gas and well, you guessed it...too much time has passed since my last debacle and right after lunch, the Dragon reared her head! She started spitting and sputtering, then just cut out. I got her off the road before being run over. After coaxing her back to life, we limped back to our camp site where I began taking her apart!Apparently, a guy throwing motorcycle parts and tools around was not a noteworthy sight as no one around me seemed to notice or care. Before long, however, my next door neighbor strolled over.
"You alright over there?" he asked.
Rolling out from under Dragon, I explained my issue and that I was at a loss for how to fix it.
At this point, somewhat confused he asked, "How far do you have to go to get home?"
"Luckily, not far since I towed her just around the fence to the trailer," I said.
With a disapproving scowl on his face, he continued: "You trailered your bike? Then I guess you don't have to have it fixed immediately."
"I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out or find a mechanic somewhere who can. I just won't be able to do it without the manuals and light."
The sun was beginning to sink below the tree line as we spoke. "Well, I'm no mechanic so I won't be of any help. Besides, I just saw you laying sprawled out under the bike and I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt. Have a safe Drive Home," he said as he walked away.
Well, you just can't understand them all. You have to focus on understanding yourself and those you love. Everything else will work itself out.
After a few hours of research, I think I've found the answer. We'll see tomorrow after I rip the bike apart and disconnect the vent hoses for the gas tank...yet another story.
Friday, May 25, 2012
It's a blur...
The last few days have been a blur...working on getting the write up complete for the first couple of days and will post shortly...it's nice just sittin between two GS kicked back in my camp chair at the 40th '49er Rally. A conversation about BMW vs Japanese bikes going on not far from me. The sweet smell of cigar smoke in the air melds with the moist decaying grass beneath me and the warming spicy aroma of my Captain and Coke. The latter is to stoke the fire inside as this is the most crisp weather I have been exposed to since January in New England. Off in the distance, I can hear the joyous laughter of fellow travelers of the road. I see fellow riders mill about looking for long lost friends and new fast ones they've encountered on the ride in this afternoon. Still others are looking at bikes that may have been theirs in year long past and harken back to earlier days. The bikes range from a BMW airhead to the newer liquid cooled models, Harley tourers, V-Stroms farkled out with the best off-road gear. There is even a bike that I could find no identifying marks on that appears to be held together with duct tape. Bikes at every end of the spectrum make everyone feel together even while being alone in this crowd. At 40, I feel as though I'm the kid at this BMW Rally.
A younger group has quietly decided they need a late night ride. Stealthily, so as not to wake those riders already in bed, they pushed their bikes to the edge of the pavement, waited for everyone to arrive and get ready to roll, and then fired up, almost in harmony. They were careful not to rev their engines more than necessary as they quietly coaxed their rides off the fairgrounds. Once on the road, however, it was a different story. Each of the bikes accelerated, rearing off the stop and down the mountain, giving it hell all the way until each of the eight riders had sped past the grounds and the tranquil sound of there engines disappeared into the night.
A younger group has quietly decided they need a late night ride. Stealthily, so as not to wake those riders already in bed, they pushed their bikes to the edge of the pavement, waited for everyone to arrive and get ready to roll, and then fired up, almost in harmony. They were careful not to rev their engines more than necessary as they quietly coaxed their rides off the fairgrounds. Once on the road, however, it was a different story. Each of the bikes accelerated, rearing off the stop and down the mountain, giving it hell all the way until each of the eight riders had sped past the grounds and the tranquil sound of there engines disappeared into the night.
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