Freedom

I love my motorcycle.

I ride for the freedom. I ride to get away. I ride to see the country. I ride to explore the back roads. But mostly, I just ride for the joy of it. Riding is like the only experience besides love where all your senses are in synch. I am completely focused on the sheer joy of the experience.

I ride alone or in small groups. I take thirty-mile jaunts to my favorite restaurants and thousand mile expeditions across the country. I love the excitement of taking on an open road, devoid of traffic. I relish the freedom and thrill of letting go, of not having to be somewhere at a certain time. My pulse quickens as the powerful engine’s strength grows and takes charge of my attention span. I love experiencing the centrifugal force on long turns and gliding at speeds way above the law.

If you ride, you are my friend. I promise and vow never to judge a person based on the type motorcycle he rides. Whether or not you trailer your bike to a rally or ride across the country, you are my friend. We all ride motorcycles because we enjoy the freedom and uniqueness that this mode of transportation gives us. The degree in which you absorb yourself into the sport is of no concern to me. Motorcycling is a lot like life; it’s a participation sport. People who don’t ride will never trust those of us who do because we do not conform to societies expectations. Being so judged, I will never judge in kind.

There is a mystique about the entire experience. There is a love affair between me and my scooter that only other riders can understand. I love the smell of leathers and of coffee wedged between my handlebars. But mostly I love the smell of life. Musty earth, sweet grass, beautiful flowers, sunshine and even rain. I do not love cattle trailers. For those of you that don't understand that last sentence, just know that cows go to the bathroom all the time and unwanted showers are not pleasant. Not at all.

I dream of taking a trip to nowhere in particular. Cruising in some spontaneous, uninhibited way where my bike and I become one entity. Perhaps it’s the feeling I get from the wind hitting my face, the sudden acceleration or the constant vibration and loud hum of the engine. Or perhaps it’s just the fact that I am on my time, responsible to no one but the road and whatever conditions it throws my way at that particular moment.

Maybe it’s just the fun of going somewhere beyond my living room. Maybe it’s the thrill of seeing and being seen. Riding is a sharing thing, a bold thing, and an exciting thing. It’s a thing that lets the little kid in me come out and play. It’s a cross between a sport and a way of life. It’s shedding the confinements of my day-to-day existence and evolving into something completely different. Something better, or at least, someone that believes in his dreams…even if it’s just for a few hours.

Zen masters spend lifetimes learning to empty themselves through meditation so they can achieve an emptiness that is equated to God in their philosophy. I have achieved the same experience on the open road. It seems that cruising at 100 mph a mere 24 inches from the ground spiritually induces peace and emptiness. You come to a place where the only thought that passes through your central nervous system is staying alive. And in that place, you discover that life begins anew.

Far away in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them and try to follow where they lead. My prayer daily is for God to give me the strength to believe in myself, to trust others and to continue to look for true love. In the meantime, if I have the opportunity, I will ride there on my motorcycle.

Hope to see you there.