motorcyclemeditation.com

Unusual domestic circumstances for about ten days, no time on the motorcycle at all, deprivation stewing like a background headache. Relief coming with a planned fifty mile spin on Monday. Sunday night, a quick check to see if the motorcycle starts, all okay.

Monday morning, chilly, the starter motor turning but the motorcycle uninterested. Sulking, probably, needs to be ridden regularly to be kept happy. Quick change of plan, the Vespa through London rather than the motorcycle around it, a twenty mile trip in rush hour, frazzling the nerves. On the occasional clear stretches, the wry experience been overtaken by cars with impunity.

A day later and finally the chance to sort out the motorcycle. Jump leads between its battery and the car’s, before long, motorcycle started. Jacket, pants, helmet, gloves, other paraphernalia, all in place. Off we go. The motorcycle’s sweet balance and immense power imparting an immediate inner thrill, like a soul deep massage, the background headache lifting, a smile spreading.

Fifty miles an hour along the North Circular, no earplugs for such a short ride, the engine popping and snorting. Destination the motorway. Soon there. Rider and motorcycle now as one. A long left curve, then a long right, dangerous at speed if there’s traffic, as now. But the temptation too great, like a double shot of whiskey swiftly gulped after long abstinence, the spirit going straight to the head. Weaving through the traffic lines, the engine making puny all else around.

A sudden slowing of the cars, no particular problem for the motorcycle, but requiring brakes on the curve with hardly any leeway. Alarm registering, backing off. What the hell is this, has your brain suddenly disconnected, where’s the safety bubble. Any motorcycle post mortem, under cause of death, the correct entry is, stupidity. As it appears you are trying to demonstrate, sort yourself out, dammit.

A long slow exhalation of breath, accumulated frustration seeping out, finding a more settled rhythm. Finding that pure enjoyment, the simple unpressured pleasure of being on the motorcycle again.