motorcyclemeditation.com

A big business meeting today, looking forward to it. Fifty miles away, mostly on motorway, time of travel such as to guarantee choking congestion. Great to have a motorcycle.

Great also to have developed slick motorcycle routines, no need to think everything out, that would be too exhausting, you can’t afford to arrive at the meeting frazzled and discombobulated.

The previous evening, clothing prepared. Suit still on hanger, belt and tie over the hook, inserted in cheap thin plastic suit cover. Laid flat on a length of bubble wrap, long enough to fold over the top, like a big padded envelope. The whole caboodle then rolled gently, inserted into waterproof sportsbag, plus newly polished shoes and meeting documents. The effect being less awkward and better protection against creases than the traditional bulky suit bag, useful for motorcycling and air travel both.

Morning, up early, breakfast. Non iron business shirt, any other will crease up on the journey. Neck tube, spread to protect collar. Motorcycle gear on. Motorcycle cover crammed under the sportsbag on the passenger saddle, bungeed in place. Double bungees all round, one might fail, countless motorcycle accidents happen from luggage flying off, into the rear wheel and chain.

Arriving with an hour to spare. Good, the motorcycle park secluded, saves having to go into the offices to change. The suit assemblage unpacked, hung on the handlebar. Nobody around, boots off, jacket off. Okay last check, crucial moment, pants off. Then as always seems to happen, click, click, click, click, the sound of high heels getting louder. Too late to scramble for suit pants, just hold up the motorcycle cover as if folding it. A pretty girl passing, going away. Dressing completed.

Helmet, gear, all the gubbins piled on the saddle, cover thrown over the top, bungees hooked together, passed over and under to secure all in place. No security whatever, but the cover concealing all, never had a problem.

Right, quick visual check, once went to a meeting with my motorcycle pants and boots still on. I look okay, motorcycle looks okay, nothing lying around. In we go. Enough time for the face to lose the raw slightly staring look you get after a motorcycle ride. Transformed into a regular working stiff.