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Bike season is now upon us and it’s time to start considering where our wheels are going to take our RoadDog this year.

Aside from the usual day trips, I’m thinking some overnight or extended weekend excursions might be in order. But where to go? Hmmm …

I would really like to go back to Cape Breton this year. It’s a place I never get tired of riding. It’s hard to believe that I have no Scottish roots because there’s something about the Cape Breton Highlands — I seem to find a sense of peace there that I don’t find in many other places. And being a Cairn terrier, Scottish decent you know, Jake fits right in there. Of course, Jake fits in pretty well everywhere he goes. We didn’t get to Cape Breton last year, so I’m going to put that on our list of hopefuls for sure.

We will, of course, be going to Wharf Rat Rally in Digby on the Labour Day weekend, along with our friends, Jake’s “Aunt Heather and Uncle Dennis.” Our cottage is already booked so that’s a definite.

There’s also been talk of meeting Heather and Dennis in New England again this August, possibly to tour Maine and New Hampshire. That was fun last year, so we might do that again. I could be convinced pretty easily to spend time in the White Mountains and North Conway. Riding and shopping — it’s a dream combination.

We’ve talked a few times about the Magdalen Islands and also about the Gaspe Peninsula and Newfoundland. Those are all still on the list of possibilities for a longer excursion.

For day tripping, Steve mentioned we should pack some picnic lunches (I suspect that means I should pack some picnic lunches with Jake at my feet in the kitchen waiting for me to drop something) and we should check out some parks around the province. Friends of ours from our bike club did that last summer and it sounded like a lot of fun and Jake would love all that open space, not to mention the picnics. All about the belly, our boy.

One thing for certain, wherever we decide to go this summer, our RoadDog will be ready. He’ll be in the driveway next to Steve’s bike by his carrier waiting for a boost to get on board.

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Yes, I forgot.

My mother called tonight just after 8 p.m. to make sure everything was okay in our little world. You see, she was worried because there was no RoadDog. So to my mother and any of you who might have checked, I’m sorry, I’m embarrassed, I forgot.

And then I realized I didn’t know what to write about anyway. We didn’t get out riding this weekend. We didn’t do anything with Jake that was particularly exciting. It was all kind of routine.

But then, while Steve was still chatting on the phone with my mother, Jake saved the moment. You see, he was waiting for us to join him for his evening ballgame when the phone rang. So, anxious and wound up, when it was delayed he grabbed his nearest toy – which happened to be a blue stuffed fire hydrant we call Giggler because of the sound it makes – and went a little nuts. Moments later, after only a couple of aggressive head shakes, Giggler went flying across the living room and landed in a wooden basket that sits on the coffee table, with a giggle I might add, leaving Jake befuddled and me very much amused.

Being the good dog-owned human that I am, I took a couple of photos before returning Giggler to a rather anxious Jake.

You see, that’s one side of our RoadDog – the wound up, ready to rip and tear, ready to ride on the motorcycle, ready to eat anything in sight Jake. The other side is the boy who emerges when he’s tired – the rather mellow, slightly snuggly, sometimes sleepy Jake.

He really is just such a little character. He may not be a big dog (please don’t tell him, he thinks it’s just his short legs), but he sure has a big personality.

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I was bad yesterday — I broke the rules and I took my boys with me.

After sitting near the front window for an hour late yesterday morning watching bike after bike pass our house, I decided I’d had enough. I’m all for saving my motorcycle from the dastardly perils of road salt, but give me a break — it was like 12 or 14 degrees outside and a beautiful, sunny day.

So I told Steve I was going for a ride and asked him to put my battery, which we took out for the winter, back in my bike. Then I heard a very quiet, “I’m coming too.” I questioned him, reminding him about his five rains rule, but apparently the day was beckoning him too. Batteries went into the bikes, seats and saddlebags went on, jackets and chaps came downstairs from the closet, helmets and gloves went out the door.

Jake just sat in the midst of it all and watched with a happy, doggie grin on his hairy face and his tongue hanging out. But once the bikes were in the driveway and the gear went outside, he was out the door, standing beneath his carrier, waiting for a boost.

We only went for a short ride — through Bridgewater to Lunenburg, on to Mahone Bay, around Indian Point, back to Mahone Bay for a Tims stop and then home. But it was fantastic! It was an incredibly nice afternoon and it felt so, so good to get back on the bike.

It’s official — riding season has begun and RoadDog is back on the road.

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So, it snowed here on Friday.

They put more salt on the roads and now we’re back to counting Steve’s “five rains” from the start again. It’s enough to make a RoadDog sad if he understood, which he doesn’t, so it just makes me sad all by myself.

With the hopes of riding anytime very soon dashed by that white precipitation which came down last week, or at least by the piles of white salt I see on the roads everywhere, I got to pondering and looking at photos from last summer when it was hot and sunny and there was no salt on the roads. That made me feel a little better because it stirred some hope that spring and riding season really will get here sooner or later — I hope sooner.

So now I’m dreaming of riding along country roads and along the ocean, of stopping at little parks where Jake can roll in the grass and sniff around at every tree he can reach. I’m dreaming of warm breezes in my face, of my hands getting too warm inside my leather gloves, of the sound of my bike’s engine and the louder sound of the custom pipes on Steve’s bike. I’m dreaming of meeting friends and making new ones as Jake charms them outside Tim Hortons all over the place. Mostly I’m dreaming of that feeling when I get on the road, roll on the throttle, settle into the bike seat and all is right with the world even for a few minutes.

It’ll come. I guess we just have to be patient.

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