Out of the Box
Been a long time since I posted myself here. Too many other things going on and, like usual, not enough time to ride. Well, it isn’t as if I don’t ride every day - or nearly every day, but that’s usually pretty short stuff. Going to work, going to the store, delivering or picking up one of the kids. Not the kind of ride that you can really get into and blow all the noise and nonsense out of your head.
Still, at least once a week, I get out and do some go-fast and curvy stuff. Metal meditation at speed, air and space everywhere and silence inside. It’s always been a kind of magic for me and it just gets better. It’s weird how you can forget in the press of all the daily sludge and grunge just how good it is out there on a nice stretch of curvy up and down and how it feels to lean into that last bend and rip out onto the straight. Maybe it’s because it really doesn’t go into words all that well - words can kind of point at it, hint at it, but the thing has to be experienced to be understood - and the understanding isn’t in words. Yeah, I keep trying to put it into words that can let some of it slide into your head. But I expect I only really get through to riders - not utility riders who use a bike because it’s cheaper than a car. Not the ones riding as a show. Don’t get me wrong here - I utility ride too. It’s a part of the attraction, especially the easy parking anywhere. And people who start out riding for utility or for show, can get hooked on the inner thing.
Probably a lot of us started in a show mode - we got these icons - ideas, thoughts, feelings wrapped around the whole motorcycle thing. And there’s always that outlaw tinge to it. Motorcycles are incredibly popular and you’d think they’d have been seriously co-opted into the mainstream, but they stay subversive. They are dangerous, especially with all the blind bozos in high speed boxes who just can’t see a bike. And some people, especially the younger riders, have a tendency to push way out of their skill envelope and do stuff that they can’t handle. Well, yeah, you get better by working on your envelope, but gently. Or you pop for some serious training, learn how to do it, learn what it’s like to dump at speed and do it right. Hell, people get killed on bicycles. And you can smear yourself real easy on even a little bitty bike. One really dumb move and you too can be road kill.
Truth? It’s harder to kill yourself in a car. But let’s face it here at least. The risk and the danger are part of the ride. If your life is in a nice, safe, contained, filtered, impervious box, what can you feel? Nice safe terminal boredom masquerading as what? Some kind of complacent imitation superiority to the unprotected? If an unexamined life isn’t worth living, neither is a life devoid of adventure. And the essence of adventure is that it is always risky. Adventure goes beyond the box. You can feel it inside. Maybe it’s a shiver, maybe a sort of electric feeling, maybe some fear, maybe it goes all the way to terror. Amusement parks give it to you - but it’s a scam and you know it. Bikes are real, the road is real, the world is real - and the risk is real.
What do you think? Is it a weird way to feel alive, to connect the inside and the outside into a flowing whole? Hey, you don’t HAVE to ride, right? Or do you? I do.
Ride for it,
Rick
