What is the perfect motorcycle? How long is a piece of string? What secret chord did David play to please the Lord? (borrowed from Leonard Cohen there) I have ridden many different motorcycles over the years, and like a woman, each has its beauty. In many ways, comparing a motorcycle to a woman is a good analogy: a curvy barmaid who’s up for anything; a sophisticated redhead whose business attire does not reveal the tiger print just below her skirt. A motorcycle should thrill the rider; it is designed that way. I’ve heard it said that if you can walk away from your motorcycle after you park it, and not look back to admire it, you have bought the wrong motorcycle.
And yet, the quality that makes one cycle attractive is also its flaw. Riding that curvy Italian sport bike, you assume a position similar to sex, but like sex, it is not meant to go for hours, despite what Sting says. That brash, tattooed American cruiser, so loud in the tunnels and on the open road, loses her voice when pavement turns to gravel. The Goldwing that can be ridden like a living room recliner from coast to coast, resembles a motorhome in its shape and demeanor. The plastic wrapped universal motorcycle, with its cowled body panels and bright colours, inevitably promises more than it delivers.
With a motorcycle, you fall in love in an instant. A sound, a feeling, a position, a look or a lifestyle accessory, attraction to a motorcycle is not gradual; it is primal. A motorcycle does not grow like fungus on a toenail on its rider; it either captures your imagination or it doesn’t. It promises freedom, excitement, escape, or reputation, all within its metal curves. My motorcycle promises long range, incredibly long range with no fuel anxiety. Smooth performance. Understated sophistication, like confidence walking into a bar. The confidence of not competing with anyone else for the prize; it is knowing that there is no prize, there is only life.
It doesn’t promise a smooth ride, floating over life’s ripples without notice. It promises to experience the road, to feel it on its own terms. It is the Tao, the Way. It is meditation, mixed with desire.
And then you realize you have the perfect motorcycle.
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