Because Jim dropped by the house today to fix the carb on my RD.
Now, we have another burgeoning explosion of motorcycle popularity. This time, it is the ol’ Baby Boomers (those from whom I and fellow Xers come from) reliving the excitement they lived through just before the tide rolled back and the revolution stopped turning, before Nixon, embargoes, Disco, Greed and Reaganomics killed what the youth had envisioned. Now, having made their money and sold their souls, the Rich Urban Biker rides the land. I love to ride, and the fact anyone rides generally improves my view of them, but I find the breed leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
They are not me.
I ride because of the Outlaw heritage of my XX’s two-wheeled forefathers. I ride because I love the rush of stretching the throttle cables all the way, dumping fuel down four 42 mm carbs into a monster motor. I ride because I know the bike might just prefer to kill me, after all. I ride to spite the guys in minivans that look at the bike longingly at lights. I ride because I think I actually like challenging the cages on the highway- am I invincible? I ride because mom doesn’t like motorcycles, and bad girls do. I ride because speed does not always kill, it usually thrills. I ride because it makes me feel free. I ride because when I ride, I don’t think about work at all. I ride because Everyman doesn’t. I ride because you can smell the diesel, the cowshit, the foliage, the dead skunk and the fields of wildflowers. I ride for those drastic temperature changes you feel riding through hills. I ride because I know I might get hurt. I ride because I may just not be able to ride tomorrow.
And yes, sometime I ride damn fast, Sometimes I don’t, and I putt around, but yes, most of the time, I may seem on a mission. I don’t believe speed is Evil. I don’t begrudge others when they want to go faster than me, though I might just try to keep up. I love wheelies- they just feel cool. I am not actually really that good at them- there are a lot of people that are much better. But I want to do them anyway. I’ve done stoppies as well, though not often. I’ve burned tires to the cords in burnouts.
I try to bring a good deal of “irresponsible” fun to my own life and others. I know the risks, I accept the consequences, and I remember the caveats. I have crashed. I will crash again.
I’ll still ride the way I like, remembering ol Bob on the first Harleys. Remembering GI Joe just back from saving the world and wanting to just ride. Remembering the Hells Angels and the fact that, in the end, they just wanted to ride. Remembering what I was like as a kid, pedaling my BMX bike and dreaming of riding a motorcycle.
In the end, I ride because it’s fun. And They don’t like it.
More from the best motorcycle writer who’s never been published – most of which appeared first as posts to a Honda CBR motorcycle list;
Porsche emasculation
7.23 lives. Phuzzy verbosity
Phuzzy drops his helmet
A tribute to Joe
Phuzzy’s highspeed ride
The WORLD PHAMOUS PHUZZY GUIDES
Kate! Turn off the UNDERLINE!
You people are SO IMPATIENT
I screwed up a tag closure – for about 2 minutes….
I get it.
I have taken my BMW 1150RT, a sport touring bike, from the Rockies to Ontario and back, with my 9 year-old daughter riding shotgun. We’ve crossed the flats of Manitoba, wearing full leathers, in 38 degree heat. We’ve tilted at 70 degrees against the winds that pour down the spine of the Alberta foothills…and so much more.
Through it all, I still puzzle at the collective mindset that seems to inhere to most bikers. I make no excuses for wishing to ride without motorized company. All it takes to regain solitude is a tiny flick of the wrist. The rest, including stunning acceleration beyond posted limits, is left to fine, German engineering.
Great quote, summarizes exactly how I feel. Motorcycling is about freedom and individuality. Non-Conservatives might not understand.
By the way, from an Ontarian’s perspective, Alberta is motorcycle heaven; my wife and I drove through there on our honeymoon, on our bikes. Beautiful roads, great scenery, higher speed limits. Love it.
Keith Fountain
Conservative Candidate, Ottawa Centre
Bikes: 1983 Honda CB 1000C; 2003 Honda CB 919
Toots, yaknow, Aretha seems like an ok when she was on Slimfast three times day, but have you seen her now? Your bike is too small to be an Aretha ;-)LOL
She was named after “Aretha” because her exhaust notes can break a wineglass at 30 paces.
Bah! Try skydiving. Now that’s speed baby!
120mph straight down…
Wanna feel free? Jump out into the open air and fall through the sky with nothing but air between you and the ground.
Feel the rush when you open the door to the airplane and you’re 2 inches from the door at 10,500 feet up, you reach the jump site, wave to the pilot and fling yourself into freedom.
If you want to see the real limit of what risk looks like though, go here:
http://www.joejennings.com/slide1a.htm
(click on enter then click the pics to advance the frames.)
Even I wouldn’t do some of that stuff (although a lot looks awesome! Jumping out of an airplane in a CAR is tre cool.)
Hey! I resent (resemble?) that minivan line. 🙂
Great article.
Yeah that is Biker-Feel all right. Main threat to me is the very senior person who wrongly imagines you will skirt around the Oldsmobile when they move out and it’s your right of way.
I saw that happen to a fellow. You could just see the 80 year old’s wheels turning slowly and then the Olds moving forward when there was no way Bike momentum could allow a miss.
The bike nesteled in the Olds’ wheel well and bikeguy slid along the pavement on leathers and stopped when his shoulder hit the curb. He will be OK, but I make every effort not to trust any possible last minute move from a motorist.
Mountain Enduro is best. No other drivers to play guess or die with, and the smells and scenery are priceless. 73s TG
‘Doctor’ Hunter S. Thompson once said: “When the history books of the 1960s are finally written, the motorcycle will emerge as the ultimate symbol of freedom.” (only those who ride, know why that is true.)
That’s a really nice paintjob on your scoot, Kate!
(Soon as I find a decent tank for ‘Crazyhorse’, will send it to Ya as per.)
Jim brought the carb back, put it on, and she fired up on the first kick. (Yes, kick). You should have seen the looks on the faces of the highschool kids who drove by – she was busy burning off the oil I misted into the engine when I winterized last fall.
Like a cross between a 100 mph chainsaw and mosquito fogger.
A moment of silence, for Maxime Mercier, 17 years old, son of retired ace Michel Mercier, who died at Shannonville Racetrack, on June 12…( They flew the flags at half-mast for him, and gave a minute’s silence for him, at the rider’s meeting on the following weekend. (He was a good person, and everybody who knew him is just devastated).
And while you are at it, another pause in your deliberations, for the other guy who raced on that same track on that same weekend, and died while riding his bike home on the #401 afterwards!
( They died while doing something that they CARED about).
http://www.kens.com/archives/31-.html
Phuzzy
The one and ONLY time I experienced my eyes poping out of my head was in 1972 or’73 in Quebec City.
During highschool exam time. we were killim=ng tim ’till the school bus arrived to take us back out to our rural homes. I was coming around a corner downtown when I spotted my FIRST KAWASAKI Z-1!!
LIVE and IN COLOUR!! Factory Orange paint scheme, this testosterone overdose was staring me right in the face!!! I had previously only seen pictures in my bike magazine subscription issues.
Yeah heaven was not far that day!
Years later rode a Honda 900 through my small town.
Woulda been somthing I think to open up that original Z-1 on a summers city freeway!!!!..egad!!
Yes the FREEDOM!
’74 Honda CB750K, rebuilt engine so its a 900 now.
Better believe it! On a MOTORCYCLE, your life is now in your own hands! Savour it! You can do what ever you want! You can play with it, you can push it to the edge, or you can save it for ‘next time’! Your choice, Baby!
saddened to hear of maximes’ passing. attended FAST school last aug.fine young man instructed.our best to the merciers.61 yrs. old now but still let my connie breath big most days__cant get enough of it.g luck and smiles to all doc