The Highway's a bitch. And a lot more than that; in fact she remembers me of that song from Meredith Brooks: a lover, a child, a mother... She gives and takes like no other, and It's a queen in the dreams of those who desire its promise of freedom and adventrue.

I love the open road, for it is the symbol of the voyage, the discovery, the road trip as a rite of passage. An strange animal, it is: he can take or return your mind at its own volition and possesses those who wander over it, even those confident in the power their yield over the lanes.

I love the highway, and she and me, together with my bike, we form a threesome of unbeatable power; for over the motorcycle, you become one with the road: you float over it, there's no separate existence in between the road, the machine and yourself. The bike keeps you, unlike the car or any other mean, in close contact with reality, while you're still master of your destiny: you control the direction, but you can't avoid your senses being assaulted by the might of the trip.

So, the highway's my mistress, and I hope never to renounce her.