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Thursday, August 18, 2011

What is it like to ride...putting words to a spiritual experience

I’ve been asked to describe what it’s like to ride, and it’s really tough to put a feeling into words. Riding is religion for some, a way of living, not a pastime, it’s a devotion more than a hobby.

It’s so much bigger than words. Its that great love that makes your heart soar and puts a contented and fulfilled smile on your face. When you ride you are one with the bike, immersed in the goodness of which God has created. Multi dimensional experiences, sights, sounds, smells, feeling the sun and air, wind, dirt, weather...easy to get lost in the joy of it, but a little danger there to remind you that even though you feel like the only being that exists in this place and time, you are fully exposed to everything around you, with nothing between you.

My bike is my other half, we are simpatico. I’m a warm weather girl, a desert rose I’ve been told, so when it’s hot and sunny, and I’m on my bike, it’s the best feeling in the world. Sometimes I hear Zeppelin singing “Oh let the sun beat down upon my face” when I ride...Mostly I wanna be just like a little kid in a field, blue sky overhead, arms outstretched, feeling every molecule of warm weather and fresh air being absorbed into my skin, head back, eyes closed, turning in circles until you fall down in the grass laughing. Well, I can’t close my eyes and spin around, but that’s the inner feeling. As a passenger, I have closed my eyes and stretched my arms out to feel the soft summer air rushing across my skin. But, on my own, obviously that can’t work out well.

My bike brings me a giddy kind of pure joy. I get the biggest thrill over the shock factor when people find out that’s my bike, and that I drag race it. It's just lil' ole me, yeah...it's MINE...yeah, I did that....hell yeah, I race it with NITROUS too! It’s definitely a perma grin. A smidgen of smugness, a ton of pride, and a whole lotta passion. Me and my machine, an open, winding road, where we become one living breathing roaring being. I feel rooted into the seat, the tires smoothly rolling down fresh pavement. A little lean to the right and we drift right, shift my body left, go to the left. Sometimes, when I’m feeling really in tune and part of the bike, I’ll shift my hip to one side, then the other, making us move back & forth, it’s a smooth flowing, seamless connection between rider and machine, a feeling of flawless control. Perfection. I’ve likened it to the closest you could get to being able to fly. The machine feels like a part of you, so it feels almost as if you could open your arms wide and lift off. It brings me a warm, radiant smile, that I can feel grow from the inside out. It’s a fever, an addiction, an obsession, my heart’s desire.

I saw one of my riding fb friends say if he wanted to know if she was a good woman, all he had to do is look at the toe of her left boot (for shifter marks). When I look down at the scuffs on my boot, I'm not bummed that my nice boots are scarred, I'm beaming with pride, because that makes it obvious to all who see it. Every click of my odometer is a trophy to me, the higher the numbers the more abundant the experience.

As the summer days wind down, I can feel the hours left of riding season ticking away. Come early fall, every sunny, warm day is one of which to be taken advantage, because you never know which one will be the last day you will ride. Every opportunity is a moment to savor the good stuff.

Over the winter, I swear I can hear my bike whimper from the dark corner of the garage. She’s pouting, and so am I. I’m restless, and bored, lost, impatiently counting the weeks down til spring. Every time I hear a bike, I feel my heart frown. I miss her, desperately. Visits to the dealer make me drool over the shiny new bikes, and if there’s one on the floor that they happen to start, the sound gives me goosebumps, and the smell of the exhaust is intoxicating. My mind drifts back to summer days, the sound of a Harley, the smells of exhaust and fresh cut grass. The good days indeed. By the end of winter I am on pins and needles anticipating the start of a new riding season, like a kid counting the days til Christmas.

Riding brings me inner peace and contentment, a warmth. It's living in the moment and embracing all that is good in life, and the serenity and focus to work through the not so good. It's two wheel therapy. No matter how many miles and hours I spend on the bike, when it comes time to put her in the garage, my heart is always disappointed. My spirit wants a never ending journey of peace and contentment.

1 comment:

  1. that is simply awesome :) loved every word of it !! amazing stuff, i liked this the most " you feel like the only being that exists in this place and time, you are fully exposed to everything around you, with nothing between you" well said :)

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