Sometimes when you look back you can actually look forward. I was the new owner of a beautiful metallic ocean blue 996 with a factory aerokit, and I was itching for a drive. I wanted to get to know the car. For me that means trying to get lost, which is not easy when you have lived in the same city your entire life.
This particular time I headed east, crossing from Kansas into Missouri. Roads change there. They move with the land, rising and falling. I love the rolling wheat fields of Kansas, but these cars a designed for something better, curves. Curves guide you to your destination. They help create a rhythm between you and the car.
Half an hour into my drive I found a memory. It was a road I use to bicycle along when I was young. Days were simple then. I remember drinking my water bottle dry on one long ride and stopping to knock on a stranger's door. I asked if I could fill up my water bottle from their garden hose.
I slowed to see if the house was still there. It was, along with the same old fence I leaned my bike against. That's when I saw it. The caution sign from my youth. It was a half way point on my loop, but also meant hills and throbbing leg muscles lay ahead. I stepped out to take a picture.
Hoping back into my 996, I snugged the seatbelt and set off. I remembered each curve and rolling hill like it was yesterday. Downshifts and acceleration made the road seam like an effortless dance.
Arriving home I took out my phone and stared at my new picture. A picture to member where I was, where I am now, and possibly where I will be going.