Riding a motorcycle makes one contemplate mortality, as I hold it on my own hands… I am more aware of it. Every time I fire up the engine, I know it could be my last time. I say a little prayer… Asking that I have a good ride, and if it be my last, that I am taken home quickly. I trust in my Skill, and in my God. I have faith. This allows me to Not Fear. As a result, I enjoy my Ride more… And I enjoy everything else more too… My Wife. My Children. My Friends. And the little things in life are sweeter too. A sip of a cold Tea. A smile from a pretty girl. A laugh from kid. Wind in my face. Jokes are funnier. Food tastes better.
I don’t ride because I want to die. I ride because I want to live.
Well said George.
I like yer attitude bro. I don’t ride motos any more, all my bikes these days are pedal powered. Laugh if you will, but look me over for scars and broken parts. I have earned my memories over several decades of riding self-propelled. Look close and you will see I have come near to meeting my maker on a few occasions. I’ve had those (possibly) last conversations with my maker and he has always delivered me home safely (so far). I’ve ridden trails and old roads and seen places that would curl the hairs of many a strong man, and I am still here to brag about it.
But I have come to appreciate some words I heard in a movie once: It is a good day to die.
When it is my time I will happily sing my song of death and cross over. I’ve a few mates I know I will meet over there and it will be a happy reunion.
Ride on dudes, ride ’em like it is your last time. Every day is a good day to die.
Amen!
Yessir. I just got back from a three day ride up to SLC and then over into central Nevada. Rode Hwy 375 and stopped in at Rachel. I highly recommend the ride.
Awesome.
This idiot rides to die, and take some people with him:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ylDA3UV2eXc
He keeps that up… and he may die, and take some innocents with him.
Jim
On a certain level, I don’t have a problem with riding like that. I mean hell, we’ve all been on that adrenalin buzz and grabbed the bars and charged full-dumass-speed-ahead.
True story: I followed a ‘Vette and 68-69 Camaro up I-35/LBH in north Dallas one night on my Harley. The speedo was a blur between 110 and 120 and both my mirrors departed over my shoulders from rattling loose. Damn a bunch of Hars, but it was a night to remember. I never did catch those boys, but that is the fastest I ever was on a bike, and it was enough. I’m sure all you fools have seen that damn idjit in Russia on his commute, word is he is riding with the angels these days, that guy was beyond nutso:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XihQeZpwqpE
Black Devil, you stoopid bastid, when we meet down yonder in the flames, I’ll give you the thumbs up. You were brave, but that is how many a good man had got daid.
I mean hell, who wants to live forever? Me, I just want to make 70-75 or so, go in my sleep, and leave behind a legacy of having fun and walking that line of taking chances. And making it with a few beautiful Asian chicks. So far, I’ve had fun and a few chicks with black hair and Asian genes. Maybe they weren’t all beautiful, but they were all HOT!!!
Valhalla, I am coming.
http://www.public.asu.edu/~mharp/viking_kittens/VikingKitten.htm