The question is posed a
lot - why do you ride a motorcycle? I'm tempted to
respond with "Why do you not ride one?"
Exactly why a human does something is very difficult to
answer with precision. A human scientist might point to
one's toilet training or whether the rider had been
locked in a small dark closet as a child. They might
explore the rider's social background and whether or
not the parents were Republicans. I don't really care
about these things, in this case, but will point out
that my first bicycle had matchbook covers attached
with clothes pins so they would strike the spokes of
the wheel, making a noise that would emulate a
motorcycle.
I like the sounds my bike makes. There are engine
sounds that change as we (me and bike) ride faster or
slower. The exhaust note changes likewise and the
combination of the two added to the sound of air being
sucked into the intake trumpets is exquisite. There is
the sound of air moving over and around my helmet; I
like it. It is unique.
I like to see and smell stuff as I travel. Being in a
car restricts my vision. Motorcyclists often refer to a
car as a "cage" and it is an apt description. A car is
a cage with widows. There is no protective cage on a
bike so I can see without restriction, even through the
window of my helmet. The vastness of a Nevada morning
or the complete view over Beartooth Pass are just so
much better on a bike. A modern car is a fairly safe
place to be. It is designed to crumple and absorb
impact forces when it hits some object and thus protect
its occupants. It has safety glass, and it has air
filters designed to keep out pesky germs, smells, and
dust. A motorcycle has none of this so I can encounter
the true stink of my world as I ride through it. The
Alders in spring, freshly mown grass, and cow shit.
I like the feeling; I don't mean the "touchy feely"
type of feelings like sad and angry. I refer to the
feeling of dampness along the Pacific coast or the
dryness of the desert. I like the feeling of crisp
October air and the wetness of a long ride in the rain.
I like the feeling of warm wet hands inside leather
gloves and the occasional trickle of water down my neck
during a downpour. I'm not that much into hail though,
as it hurts. I like the feeling of my woman on the back
of my bike. A bike has a "right" feel to it. Climb
aboard and there is only the stuff you need to make it
go and stop. The handlebars have a feel; some are open
and some more closed and they transmit the essence of
the bike to your body. You touch the whole machine when
you ride it and it communicates with you - you feel it.
I like aircraft as machines, but not when I'm in them.
I have no control as an airline passenger. I have no
clue if what I feel is dangerous or simply
"turbulence". A motorcycle is the opposite; I better be
in control or I'm going to die. Control of a motorcycle
is easy to learn but takes a lifetime to perfect so it
is always fresh, and demanding of my respect and
attention. I may be unable to control my government, my
employer, or many other things, but I can control my
motorcycle and how well I do that is up to me. It is
the one constantly fresh and stimulating thing I need
after a full and exciting life to feel other than I'm
circling the drain.
So these are the components as I understand them at the
moment. When I ride I am in total control of my world.
I'm focused on making the machine perform in a way that
pleases me and my body and my soul. I want the sense of
power and thrust that only a bike can provide and I
crave the sensation of carving corners well and in
control. I have to focus on doing that responsibly and
with restraint so I don't hurt myself or others, and
doing all this blots out the crap of life that needs to
be set aside. I'm in the environment getting wet or hot
or covered in bugs and I so love all of this which one
cannot get in a car. I feel things unique to riding a
bike and they satisfy me and they restore me as no
other activity has. I love the smells and sounds of a
motorcycle as well as the smells and unrestricted
vision of my environment.
And, I think riding machines is much better than riding
animals. I would not want somebody climbing on my back
and making me carry them to some place I did not want
to go to at that moment. Does the horse feel any
different? I don't think so but, as they have no
thumbs, they are powerless to effectively object. My
bike couldn't care less. It is a machine. It is
designed to take me places I want to go to when I want
to go there.
All that said, the main reason I ride motorcycles is
the same one I had for putting matchbook covers on my
bicycle. I do it because it is fun.
Marty