Riding a motorcycle is somewhere between an art and a science. Scientific in the physics that keep a bike upright at speed and actively resist turning and leaning. The grip of the tires on a hot afternoon or the lack thereof of on cold and wet mornings. Speed, wind resistance, fuel economy, and vehicle maintenance all must be calculated and evaluated before, during and after the ride to ensure success. Riding is artistic in the way that one seems to glide across blazing hot roads, seamlessly riding in parallel with the winding white and yellow guidelines. The paint stroke of the tires sweeping across the blacktop at speed, confident and bold; just like an artist of the paint, an artist of the road needs confidence as the consumers of the art can always sense the fear or incompetence within.
I can't help but think of my own mortality whenever I hop on my small Honda Grom. I think of it every single time. I often pray before, during and after my rides, no matter the distance for safe travels. I always wear a full face helmet, gloves, pants, boots and often a riding jacket rated for falls and slides. I like to think of myself as a cautious rider, but a practical rider. If I can use a bike lane to turn right instead of waiting behind 4 cars at a red light then I will, but I won't lane split or speed. I can't really speed as the Grom only tops out at 65 on a downhill, but 55 is pretty fast in a 30 zone. Lines on the road are always there to keep me safe right? The lines provide almost a structure to the road; if you've ever driven on a fresh road with no markings of any sort you can feel lost or uncomfortable as you realize (or fail to put into words) that these markings are a language and discipline to those who drive. Failure to understand, communicate or to remain disciplined can, and often, leads to serious injury or death. I rarely disobey the lines and only out of desperation or necessity. While that may seem somewhat contradictory I'll give you an example: I pulled over on a shoulder today and waited for the road to clear to make an illegal U-turn. I made the U-turn right then and there in order to save precious miles as my tank was very very low on fuel and I knew that I had past the nearest gas station for miles around.
Anyhow, my thoughts during the ride are far a few between. I think this is why people enjoy riding so much. Riding a motorcyle isn't like driving a car where you often find yourself drifting between hypnosis of the road and actually paying attention to every detail in the road. On the highway or back country roads there are potholes, lumber, trash, roadkill, and other hazards that could easily knock a rider down or at the very least cause them to swerve into the other lane or off the road. Riders must always be assessing the road in front. The wind is a constant reminder of the weather outside. If it's humid then you can feel soaked from the sheer amount of water build up on your clothes and when it's cold it stabs like knives at every weak spot: zipper seams, unprotected ankles/wrists/neckline, and pants that are too thin. Having ridden in below freezing conditions, I'm here to say that the cold sucks. These elements (road conditions and weather) are constantly assessed and in the forefront of your mind when you ride. There is never a moment when they disappear. The most dangerous element of all, (besides an individuals tolerance for risk) is the other highly intelligent animals on the road: other human beings.
Have I dodged animals on the road: yes. Have I swerved for random objects: Almost weekly. Have I risked hypothermia and overheating: yes. Have I been almost hit by other people: More times than I can even remember. It happens so often you almost become desensitized to such a traumatic event. Given a motorcycles small profile, speed and often the carelessness of the rider it's no wonder bikers are hit or get cars pulling out in front of them so much. I've had my fair share in the 4 years I've been riding. Most of the time the people don't even notice what they did. If they do notice they will brush it off. I confronted a driver once who turned left in front of me in a parking lot. (Turing left in front of an oncoming motorcycle is the number one cause of fatality) I followed her to her spot and yelled at her to get out. She was unimpressed as I was yelling at her until I realized that she didn't know what rank I was. After pulling down my riding jacket and showing her my stripes she listened a little better. I reminded her, in perhaps a not so eloquent way, that I have a wife and kids at home and that she would do better to get off her phone so I could see them at the end of the day. I have had several encounters like that where I will confront people when they are acting so stupidly. My wife says I shouldn't confront people because I may end up shot or stabbed but to me what they did is as good as a suckerpunch and I won't lay down for it. My kids and wife are always the first things I think of whenever I have an incident like that. Any time my own mortality is in question I have always thought of my wife and kids first and pray that I could just get one more day...
These thoughts, to a normal person, may seem morbid or uncomfortable but to me it's almost a necessary reset. There's nothing like a brush with death to really put in perspective what's important in this life. Life's anxieties and worries are small compared to what really matters. I have been so anxious before that I couldn't even ride my motorcycle home before. Not because of my fear of the ride but because my physical response to an anxiety attack. Since that day I have learned to live with and mitigate anxiety. There has never been a simple fix, not one simple exercise to blot it out but a combination of thought patterns, thought exercises and physical conditioning. This morning on my bike ride I was out past Hearne, TX when I began to feel a little anxious. I thought: what if I got into an accident here in the middle of nowhere, what would my wife and kids think? Would I make it to a hospital? Where is the nearest hospital anyways, I saw an urgent care about 15 miles back but it's just an urgent care.... These thoughts streamed through my fore vision for but a mere moment in time and then I had to come back to the road; the road had a left hand turn followed by a hill who's crest was higher than my current elevation that required my full attention. This fixation only lasted but 30 seconds and it was back to open roads but it gave me a mental stop and then I changed my thoughts. I said to myself: "It wouldn't matter if you died here or in your house; dying results in the same thing no matter the location. Your wife and kids love you and you them and that is a well established fact. You dying is statistically unlikely as you aren't drinking, speeding or riding recklessly (which accounts for over half of all motorcycle incidents)". I said this to myself and once again accepted my own mortality and was okay with it.
I'm not fine with dying willy nilly mind you, just accepting the fact that I will one day die and certainly not at my own doing! I have never been tempted by suicide or even the thought thereof. I have always maintained the idea that if I ever thought that my life was so miserable I couldn't bear it that my first and only move would be to change my life somehow. I maintain my happiness and joy through exercises in gratefulness and always imagining and knowing it could be much worse. I don't ride my motorcycle mocking the cars and their safety. I ride because I enjoy it and love the gas mileage. I like the fact that every time I get on it I feel grounded to the current reality I am experiencing, regardless of whether or not scientist think it's a simulation. If it is a simulation then it's a damn good one and I'll take more of it. Riding is not something I do on the weekends or do for fun. It is practical, it is zen. It is dangerous for those who lack discipline.
Final thoughts: riding over 200 miles today was exactly what I needed. I am more grounded in this moment, again. I have had inspiration for writing. More importantly I am refocused on what my priorities are in life and the rest of life's worries are where they belong: miles behind me, blowing along the empty and dark back roads of Texas.