Me and my motorbike

I went for a ride today. Not a dramatic announcement to some, but to me its an understatement. I haven’t been able to ride for a few weeks due to illness – and lack of balance from an ear infection. It’s amazing what a bit of vertigo can do to my born-to-be-wild bravado.

Fifteen years ago it would have been a different story. I was immortal, and indifferent to the hazards of hairpin bends and late-night no-sleep red-eye runs. One brain tumour later, and I have a new perspective and appreciation for the little things that would have otherwise eluded me. I went back to university and nurtured a neglected intellect, gaining insights into myself that I never knew existed. When I climbed back onto a bike three years ago, it was with full leathers and an upgraded life insurance plan.

The bottom line is, riding still makes me feel good. And I’m not inclined to be giving it up in the near future. I like the rumble and the road underneath me, the sky above and the wind rushing around my head. It’s not for everyone, but it still suits the illogical eccentric that lurks beneath the surface, even if it’s older and a little over-educated.


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