Man and Motorcycle
 |
In spite of this year being a rain-drenched washout I have managed to squeeze in a generous mileage on my bike. Now as winter draws in and I start to consider when it will be the last ride of the year I began to think about what it was that inspires the motorcycle enthusiast but also mostly what inspires me.
There is something different about travelling anywhere by bike, in the city it’s the sense of freedom it gives you as you cruise past almost stationary traffic coupled with a feeling of superiority as you effortlessly weave your way around the almost stupefied drivers in their anodyne aluminium caskets and gracefully glide to the head of the queue at the traffic lights ready to leave them for dust when the lights flicker to green. As you reach the open road there is the sense of freedom coupled with belonging as you become part of the passing scenery. Robert Pirsing understood this feeling well in his Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance :
You see things vacationing on a motorcycle in a way that is completely different from any other. In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.
On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. That concrete whizzing by five inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on, it’s right there, so blurred you can’t focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness.
This emotion is heightened on a Harley for the simple reason that you are positioned in an upright position ideal for viewing the rolling countryside, with its wide padded seat its like riding down the road in your favourite armchair in a peaceful Zen-like state of calm.
Like all pastimes there is also the element of fantasy. The race-bike enthusiast may fantasize that they are their favourite racing hero as they push their machine into a highly cambered bend but for me the fancy is yet more fantastic, when my mind reaches that quiet state I am a knight of the road riding his metal steed across the land in search of adventure and heroism and the end of each journey is a biting descent back to the banality of modern existence where there are no longer any real heroes. Only men and fools.
Update : James has run a little special on the Blogpower wild-bunch.
In a car you’re always in a compartment
This is so true. I’d love to buy an old Beema or Beeza again but these roads here are lethal to bikes. My last bike was a restored Bonny so you know how long ago that must have been.
It is the only way to travel, without doubt. Pirsig does catch it very well - one of the many great things about ZATAOMM is that he clearly did know as much about bikes as about rhetoric. I still have moments of quiet satisfaction that I managed to cite both him and Maz Harris in my MA dissertation on translation. Do you know Steve Wilson’s journalism, for Classic Bike Guide and now RealClassic? He’s another with a proper feel for biking, even if he admits himself he’s not so hot with the spanners.
But, “the last ride of the year”? Surely not. Not in our mild maritime climate?
Thanks Ian, that was an interesting read and something I could most definitely relate to. However I will admit that my attitude to motorbikes was always more along the lines of “work your arse off” until I could afford my most realisable dream bike. I’ve been through a few, the Harley being the ultimate of those dreams. I remember the day I put down that deposit 13 years ago as if it was yesterday.
Its not the climate that stops me riding in Winter these days - it’s the cleaning!
Well, I spent too much of my income, disposable and non-disposable, on rubbish old Russian iron, not to mention trips to Russia. Yes, I did once bring a crankshaft back in my hand luggage, back in the days when large lumps of metal were less likely to raise eyebrows at the check-in desk. Trouble is, neither EFL teaching nor postgraduate research offer much in the way of portraits of the queen. That ex-traffic-police sidecar outfit I referred to was a dream machine for me at the time, though, believe it or not. Have you had the same machine for 13 years? That’s some devotion.
As for cleaning - have you considered an MZ for the winter months? Mind you, I ride mine in summer, too.
There’s a little something waiting for you at my place but whether you like it or not is another matter, dear Wolfie.
James,
I love it. I had no idea so many blogpower bloggers were such a wild bunch.
Ian,
I think I’d go more for a tatty Z-750 and get back to racing the curriers around town, though I’m not sure my wife would approve. She does love the Hog though and is very supportive of my little hobby so long as there are no carbs on the kitchen table.
I’m glad to see Howl is still on the prowl!
My sister had a yellow Yamaha back in the seventies and took quite a bit of flack from some of her friends who were neuro-surgeons; but she did love it. It’s not my cup of tea, but I do understand the allure.
The disadvantage of motorbiking is that you can be at the bottom of a mountain before someone stops and tells you that you dropped your tent ‘back near the top somewhere’. And you haven’t even noticed.
Liz,
That’s why I have armfuls of bungee cord and fix everything so tightly that it’s a positive danger to un-pack my gear. It also makes touring excellent exercise.
Mi’ Lady,
I recall some American A&E surgeons referring to Harleys as “donor-cycles” but I believe that the added risks over and above that posed by driving a car can be offset by good training, skill and a healthy and mature attitude towards road safety.
Just re-read Zen and… Pirsing still comes across as slightly batty. However my own excuse for not being OTR this rainy year was that one faulty 2-cent screw renedered the whole machine useless
Good book though - well worth re-reading every 10 years or so just to see if one’s outlook on life has changed any. Makes a good litmus test for life.
Jack…
and readers, Lets DIGG this Blog post so we can get more blog posts FAST!! Good stuff….