To Give Fear a Square Kick in the Shin

From what I've read, and otherwise gathered from talking to folks that don't ride, motorcycles scare the hell out of a lot of people. As in, "Oh my god, that motorcycle parked over there is going to lunge at me and eat my travel-sized dog."

People have told me they don't ride because it's too scary, and they don't know how I do it.

Here's something to consider: motorcycles scare the hell out of people that do ride, on occasion. Any biker will be able to tell you about a time he/she almost shat in his/her gear. It might have been an oncoming truck intruding in the lane, or gravel in the middle a fast curve. If you've never had to check your pants after a ride, you haven't been riding for very long.

It's not a lack of fear that lets us continue to enjoy riding, it's just a good supply of nerve. Nerve as in ability to cope in a demanding situation, in equal measure with impudence and audacity.

Some people don't have enough nerve to get on a bike in the first place. Some don't have enough nerve to make it beyond the first high-intensity experience. That's OK. At least they know their limits now.

But a select few are the sort who survive a close call, yell "Wahoo!" and ride on, because letting fear win is unthinkable.

Long time riders are the ones who have it together enough to face a terrifying situation, respond correctly, and then look over at fear and death and give them a cheery wave just to shine 'em on a bit. It takes a lot of nerve to get back on a bike after that.

The Weather Here Has Been Contemptible

The heat here in Phoenix has been overwhelming for the last several weeks. Extremely high heat and high humidity just sucks. Coming in to the office covered in sweat isn't much fun, and getting home absolutely soaked with sweat is less fun. So I've been carpooling with Lady Luck.

I was getting a bit twitchy from the time away from the bike, though, and I am glad the temperatures are falling.

This morning I rode in to work for the first time since early August. It's funny how quickly new routines develop, and how difficult it can be to get back in to an old routine. I got my boots on, and then had to stop and think about what gear I needed to put on next.

It's probably for the best, then, that I was less than two miles from home when I encountered a guy in a Mustang that wanted to race. Silly man, Mustangs are many things, but they aren't fast.* Not compared to a bike, anyhow. After giving him a brief demonstration of how inertia impedes velocity, I felt like I was back in the groove.

Fall is just around the corner, which means comfortable riding. Hooray!


*I can say that because I really like Mustangs, even if they're a bit poky.