Why ride?

At first I was just out to impress… my ex. See, I don’t need you to have fun! At the time there were not many women riders in Hamburg, let alone working at a bike franchise (like me). Most of the riding women around my age where well known to me. They came and went over the years. Most of them got involved with someone and became their pillion. (You'd think they'd have known better...)

I remember being a young, slender, blonde chick riding to the Isle of Man TT races and seeing a couple of women getting off their packed to the hilt BMW and when they removed their helmets I was most impressed with what I saw. They were around their mid fifties, greying hair and lots of laughter-lines in the right places. They may have been either good friends or sisters. I remember thinking that I sincerely hope to be doing just that when I am that old. Well, here I am.

Yeah, it almost did not happen. A 15 year break…child, mortgage, budget…almost completely undermined my confidence. It took the death of my biggest ally to find the courage. All too often I told people…and at times I felt like a total fraud...one of these days I will be riding again! But the time was never quite right, the effort too much, the gear not in place, the money…honey…but that urge did not vanish.

I completely missed out on all those years' technology development. I could not tell one bike from another, nor had any idea how much cc engine capacity any of them had until I got close enough to read it on the side somewhere. I bought bike magazines and read them cover to cover, but did not make as much progress as I would have liked.

My partner found the bike for me. It was sitting outside a panel beater’s place, all dolled up and nowhere to go. Apparently its predecessor was a woman who had let it go and dropped it once, then never found the confidence again. The bike was almost ten years old and had original 24k on the clock. Once we started the bargaining process I was told that the owner was currently somewhere in South America. Brazil? Sure!
Show me the papers!

It checked out. We came to an amicable arrangement.

On my first ride I made my partner drive right behind me in our car. He took a photo. I think he was shaking too, as it turned out very blurry.

My biggest worry was getting to the bottom of the driveway and not reaching the ground, as there is an incline. What’ll I do? I still have moments, three years later, where the imagination is way off with the fairies, but it’s better to be ready for such times and have thought out the process, the response, which then becomes rather internalised and automatic.

But back to the original question. Why ride?

To re-gain something I gave up or traded in to totally commit to being a parent? There is something to be said about being totally exhausted after a sleepless night that equals the level of exhaustion after a physically challenging long ride... To re-start where I had left off?

Well, for one thing there is the challenge. Pushing my personal envelope! Getting good at something, or at least getting better at it. Proving to yourself that you’ve still got what it takes. Keeps you young, I reckon! There is this nice little saying I’ve incorporated in my forum signature: ‘You don’t stop riding because you are getting old, you get old because you stopped riding.’

To live life to the fullest of its potential...to live in the face of death, whilst death in our western, priviledged world has become removed from our daily lives. Yet, death is as much part of it, as the nightly setting of the sun and the arrival of the tide. How priviledged we are! To even sit here with that laptop at my fingertips and contemplate the use of a commodity...

Then there is this element of surprise, especially for people my age.
"Oh, you ride? You certainly don’t look like someone who’d ride a powerful motorcycle."
Well then, I challenged their point of view, their view of how the world should be. Momentarily ripped them out of their rut and showed them another way. Anyone could ride! And hey, what exactely should I look like? Michael Schumacher?

Street Cred. This might fit into the wishful thinking category, but some of the kids I teach have changed their behaviour towards me since they have seen me get off the bike in the carpark, watched me disappear into the staff room and re-appear dressed just like any other educator at their school, ready to start their day's teaching. Boy, do I sometimes wish I'd have the guts to do a wheely...

The other day I listened to a radio advertisement for some bike dealership somewhere here in Sydney and this woman's voice shouting something over traffic noise. All I remember was this..."when I'm on my bike (was it a Ducati?) I feel like I'm the High Priestess of the road". Oh dear! I can't identify with that at all, as it seems to mean that she is by means of divinity in control of what happens on the road. I'm sorry, but from experience, there ain't no magic word that might part the sea of traffic. It's a battlefield out there and once I partake in that battle I have to be as strong and smart and on the ball as any old warrior.

Rebellion? Against mainstream concoctions of what it means to be a woman? Sure, I get a kick out of challenging the concept. At times I make a point of smiling and waving at kids in the back seat of of mum's 4x4 Lexus, just to demonstrate to them that it is not the only way. On one hand I like the subversive nature of doing this...on the other I wonder if I have just encouraged them to come into the danger-zone. Is it in the dark that you may see the light?

Whilst on the surface riding a motorcycle is highly sexualised, contrary to popular belief, riding my bike does not make me feel sexy or adorable.( A pair of high heeled shoes do that in no time.) Nor have I affiliations with Dykes on Bikes, a well organised group of lesbian riders, religiously accompanying the Sydney Mardy Gras as well as many charity rides. Although once, when I rode with GirlsRideOut, a bunch of female riders, who aim to be particularly empowering and encouraging to new riders, a group of women from all walks of life, I overheard a couple of pimple faced, bright, spotless and brand new leather clad, energy drink sipping youngsters smirkingly and loudly commenting upon our arrival: " I thought Mardy Gras was last week..."
(I guess they still had a lot to learn of such things as form and content.)

So, what’s it like?

It is the thrill of challenging the survival instinct that does it mostly for me. There is that residue of adrenaline at the end of the day. Total physical and mental exhaustion, total exhilaration. A combination of complete awareness of the physicality of balance, of context, of the only three things that matter at that moment when I twist the throttle: the road, the bike and me. It is some kind of meditation, as all other matters fall by the wayside and its distance increases with the length or better said: the intensity of the ride.

My immediate family likes to benefit from the results of my rides. I am so much more on an even keel when I return. Bliss!

I like riding with others. My little outings on my own tend to potter along, whilst I enjoy a little banter. I enjoy seeing those ahead of me getting lifted up a hill and then one by one leaning into the corner and disappearing over the crest. I enjoy seeing those in my rear vision mirror lining up like a row of beautiful pearls, ready to dip into the same right hander that I am about to put all my faith in.

Some of those people are young, some smack bang in the middle of a midlife crisis, coming to terms with getting older and wishing to hold onto that scrap of youth that otherwise may all too quickly disappear, some are rich thrill seekers, some are poor or just doing it on a budget (just like me). Whatever our reasons or background, I feel connected to them. My circle of acquaintances and friends has multiplied immeasurably. We like simular things in life.

A love for nature is one of those things. At one stage I thought that maybe in a previous life I may have been riding on horses through the open country, as I seem to feel right at home there and then (I am a hopeless romantic). We have an appreciation of the places where the grey road may take us. The mere fact that we are exposed to the elements is one of the reasons we can’t escape to engage all our senses. It is nice to ride along and being able to smell ‘Spring’ or getting a whiff of some of those nice things people might have for breakfast. Your whole body is using its sensory system to gauge, to feedback, to influence your decision making. You start to open your mind, you start to listen. Not only to your five senses, but also to the sixth: intuition is a large part of survival. Empathy is another. Defensive riding and spirited riding do not exclude each other.

There is also a real sense of community. There is an unwritten code of practise that says: We stick together, we look out for each other. We won’t let each other down. We go out of our way to make things better for each other. There is political representation and there are social activities (ie Charity rides etc) There is a network, not only on a local basis, but Australia and perhaps even world wide. You ride a bike, you’ll find a place to stay, have people talk to you. It’s a great leveller.

Like many other people I enjoy the complexity and logic of physics. There is pleasure in figuring out how things work and I feel capable and empowered when I can add to or use my knowledge in practical or theoretical situations. Things technical are reasonably accessible on a motorcycle. I like people who are practical ‘can do types’ and many of those linger in the realm of bike riders.

I belong to a few groups (hey, I’m almost ripe and ready for Ulysses!) and used to ride different styles of bike. The sportsbike (ZX6R) is my current ride, but that is certainly not set in stone. There are many groups catering for different needs and more or less all interest me. Frequently I get to chat to different group reps when I attend charity rides, often dominated by chopper clubs. In the end we are all on two wheels, a common thread which is close to our hearts. I love the opportunity to marvel at the craftsmanship and imagination that goes into custom built bikes. It is, unfortunately, a costly obsession and there is no budget option!

Some of us get so obsessed by it all that they put out their challenge on the race track. Who is the fastest? Which bike is the best?
Methinks I’ll leave that to those who have youth on their side, whose flesh and bones still heal quickly and without complications. Memorising a track is not for me. I’m a goldfish…lol! Today I have very little left to prove. These days I just like to watch…

I guess I ride because I can.
Lucky me.