On motorcycling

For those of you that don't know, I love motorcycles. I got my first dirt bike around 10 and my first street bike at 17. I've owned many, many bikes and I've loved every one for different reasons.

As one of the cornucopia of lucky breaks I've had in my life, I managed to stumble across a woman who may not love the machines as much as I do (or perhaps does, but not in the same way), but shares my love of operating them.

As I was contemplating these two things this weekend, it occurred to me that I had actually found what millions and millions of people search their whole lives for.

When I am on the motorcycle with Shannon, exploring a unknown road, on a perfect day, I firmly believe I am experiencing true happiness in the most absolutely literal sense of the words. I really couldn't ask for more. I want nothing else. I am complete.

While I was riding, I remember fervently and repeatedly hoping that if there is a "heaven", it's a place where I get to ride new roads with Shannon, seeing new sights, meeting new people.... forever. The time I spend doing it seems to pass so quickly, and no matter how long we spend traveling this way I never want to stop. I believe given the time I could ride every road on the Earth, stop at every interesting small town bar, stay in every funky hotel, swap stories with every gas station attendant, and when I was done my only wish would be to ship the bike to the next planet and do it all over again.

I intend to write an essay on why motorcycles are capable of bringing this sort of satori about, but not yet. There's too much to say. I'll make a feeble attempt at some point, but for now I'll say that those of you who do it know what I'm talking about... which is why you do it. Suffice to say, something magical happens when you trade the destination for the journey. It kinda looks like this:



OK.. OK... Lest any of you think I'm not the moron you've come to know and tolerate, my version of heaven includes killing bugs... Don't wanna get too existential :)