In Pursuit of "The Flow"

When I'm tired but can't sleep my mind starts to produce inner monolougs, perhaps they're an intro to a book that I have yet to write. I'm good at intro's, bad at over all content. Or maybe it's just something my mind has to get rid of before it can rest, I dunno. But here's what I had to type out on my phone last night before I could even think about sleeping.

There are many cliché quotes about riding motorcycles: "four wheels move the body, but two wheels move the soul," "we live to ride and ride to live," and many others. And they're all true, for us at least. But for me personally it falls closer to the realm of addiction more than anything. I remember my dad telling me about a doctor visit he had a few years back; a routine checkup, of the sort you have to have when you get older. Towards the end the doctor asked if my dad was still smoking, to which he replied "Yes, and I like it." He knew the lecture; he'd heard it before and not just from doctors, but everybody on the other side of the fence, so to speak. And that's how it is with riding the way I do. I know the dangers, I've paid more than a few speeding tickets, suffered through having a suspended license, and lost friends to accidents. Nothing can equal the feeling of riding just beyond your ability to save yourself. I know where the limits are, how much distance I need to stop, how fast I can move to avoid obstacles. But riding within that range of control is boring.

I think there's a term, Habitual Suicide, for when a person continues put themselves in scenarios that could easily kill them. Who knows why we do it exactly, I'm sure the shrinks have their expensive explanations. I do it for control... But you just said you weren't in control. No I said I was beyond the limits of my control, there's a difference. It takes great handfuls of control, and skill, and talent to ride fast and not die. There is always so much that is within your ability to influence; you just need to decide what ratio of in control vs. out of control you’re OK with. When you ride beyond your ability, there is no room for bull shit, you can't day dream or brood over shitty circumstances. There is only focus, clear, crisp, razor sharp focus. After coming out of that state you feel as if you've mastered something; maybe fate, or death; for time being at least.

I imagine it is something akin to Buddhists' enlightenment; a transcendence to a higher plane. All my extraneous feelings fall away. There can still be anger I suppose, and joy too. But they're much more raw. Anger becomes aggression, joy becomes clarity and nimbleness. They mix and motivate, and drive you forward as you dodge car mirrors or hug curves. There is no feeling like it in all of life. And this is our drug, the adrenaline, the focus, the dance with the bike along asphalt corridor.

We don't ride because we think it makes us cool, or popular. We're not trying to be rebels. In fact I wish everyone could have the experience of riding a motorcycle, but I couldn't care less what cagers think of me. I need this in my life, when I don't have it, it's like going through withdrawal. I'm more easily aggravated, less focused, lacking in motivation, and over all the world seems a less interesting place. I am a knee dragger, holding fate at bay through force of will and a little bit of luck.

You can read my friend Rosemary's view on "The Flow" here.