Everyone you know says don't do it. Don't ride a motorbike. Hope you got enough funds in your bank account for a funeral. You are a temporary Kiwi. You gotta be mad to ride a bike and so it goes on.
We read a post of someone, somewhere who isn't around to ride the next day and yet we sling a leg over our metal horses and off we go again. Why?
No one who has never ridden a motorbike will ever understand why we do it.
Why would you risk life and limb on something that leaves you so vulnerable and is so high risk compared to riding from A to B in a cage.
The sun is shining and the road is dry. You wheel your bike out and the sun sparkles on the chrome and paint. You zip up your jacket and place your helmet on your head and the anticipation rises as you slip your gloves on your hands.
You sling your leg over your bike, turn the key and thumb the starter while a hundred horses or more come to life. The engine burbles as the oil starts to warm, lubricating the hundreds of parts that in a few minutes will see your face splitting from the sheer joy of sticking the stirrups into something that is a hundred times more powerful than a Palimino Stallion under a cowboys boot over a century ago.
The bike jumps a little as first gear is engaged, eager for you to twist the right hand. You slowly release the clutch, taming the latent power that you are about to unleash. As you enter the road, you gingerly allow the horses under the tank to wake up and the rubber that lines the wheels to get warm.
Then the throttle is turned and the bike drops into the first corner. The wind whistles around your helmet and the horizon approaches at a faster pace.
Your mind melds with the machine. You look ahead to the next corner, planing your lines, your speed and your angles. Into the corner and flick the bars as the bike comes up and drops into the next. Your world is full of differing angles as your bike flicks from side to side. The horses under the tank, now fully awake, thrust you forward to your next vanishing point.
You feel,a sense of euphoria, accomplishment and of having beaten the corner at a speed you have not tried before. The sheer joy and liberty of riding a machine that can leave most cages for dead, makes you feel good to be alive and at one with the twisting asphalt snake that lies before you.
You feel alive as the blood courses through your veins. You are fully aware of your surroundings, the smell and play of light on the road before you. You eyes are continously scanning the road ahead for possible threats, gravel, holes, moss and wet patches. You are mentally alert and your mind is clear and your synapses are processing thousands of miniscule bits of information per second. Your system knows that one mistake, one moment of loss of concentration will mean serious injury or even death.
You ride the path of danger. You ride where many will never go and do what many will never do and yet, as has been said before, you will live more in one minute, than most will live in a lifetime. You have placed your trust in a modern, powerful machine and in your ability to make split second decisions and your ride into danger brings you to the edge and back again.
To a biker, nothing can describe the feelings and emotions that go with a good ride. Words fail us and appear as the scribble of a child on paper.
We know the risks, we are aware of the dangers, but the call of two wheels on the road, beckons us like a junkie without a fix.
Once bitten, it will be forever in your blood. May we all live long and enjoy the freedom and joy of riding our modern day steed.
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Originally Posted by onearmedbandit
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