motorcyclemeditation.com

A hundred mile trip on a Sunday and the rain coming vertically down, solid water with a few gaps for air and doing its best to dispense with those. Departure on the motorcycle delayed for an hour, but no let up. Oh well, let’s go, hello Autumn.

Out on the road, the normal experience, the rain looked worse from indoors. But still, the deluge continuing and requiring care on the motorcycle. Tyres maintaining grip on the sloshing road, groves sluicing the water away. Sluicing, a comforting word on a motorcycle in the rain, if the tyres weren’t doing that you’d come off.

A steady sixty five on the speedo, almost a question of keeping the speed up rather than down, too slow and it becomes tentative and pussyfooting. Cars with their windscreen wipers and warmth and four wheel stability also at that speed, red tail lights just visible through the streaming visor. But soon the conditions becoming familiar, like a cricketer playing himself in, and the motorcycle quickening.

A long sweeping corner and the traffic moving at good speed. Now enjoying the journey, sod the rain. The motorcycle forging ahead in the outside lane, back to its normal mode of imperious mastery.

Ahead on the curve, a big truck in the middle lane, obviously unloaded, moving fast, indicating to move out to my lane. A burst of speed and the motorcycle will be past. Holding off however on the wet road. The truck still indicating but not changing lanes. On the motorcycle, coming closer, ah, that’s what it is, the following car blocking its other side, it isn’t indicating to turn, it’s flashing its hazard lights. And not for the car behind, it was already going slow, must be for me.

The motorcycle proceeding much more cautiously. Now past the truck, the view clear, a thick cluster of traffic jamming the road ahead, crawling along slowly. Fine for the motorcycle at this pace, probably so if faster, but possibly not.

Sitting up on the motorcycle, now going really slow up to the jam, extending a wide thumbs up to the truck driver, thanks pal, you may have just saved my life.