Riding a motorcycle is dangerous. I could get cleaned up by a car any second. I could lose traction and hit a tree. I could go wide in a turn and go head-on into another car.
But why do I do it? It’s not the negatives that spur me on, because if it was, then I wouldn’t be doing it. For me, the positives outweigh the negatives.
The freedom. The sensation: the wind in my hair (boys and girls, keep your helmets on), the breeze on my face, the smell of the rich exhaust, the rasping roar, the low but rumbling idle, the thrill of going faster than you actually dare, leaning further and further into corners, the realisation that my life is largely in my hands – these are some, but not all, of the many things which make riding a motorcycle an amazing experience.
My right hand controls how long I live for – seconds? Minutes? Hours? Or how soon I come to my end. If I feel lucky, maybe I’ll give it a bit more of a twist. If I’m lucky, nothing bad will happen. And if nothing bad happens, then that means I’m blasting my away from everyone else, in my own world.
I’m yet to come across an apt description of what it feels like to be cruising along at, clear road ahead, beautiful blue sky, warm sun, cool breeze, peace and quiet around except for the exhaust, one with the bike. My head inside the helmet, in its own little world – drifting away, yet at the same time 100% focused on riding, feeling the bike, feeling the road. It’s surreal, addictive and exhilarating like nothing else I’ve ever tried.
The beauty is that I could be rocketing along – or I could be cruising along, it wouldn’t matter. It’s the experience that counts. Not how fast you get there. Not how many turns you took. Not how low you got around the corners. And the best thing about it all?
That’s for you to answer.