Motorcycles = Sex-on-wheels

This will either make sense to you or not, depending on whether you dig motorcycles or not.

When I was young I owned a 1978 Yamaha 650 Special II, it was a beautiful thing. Every time I got on it I felt virile, adventurous, happy. One of the concessions I made when I got married was to get rid of it after we had kids. That was 12 years ago.

Last summer, fully embracing my mid-life crisis, I bought a 2003 Triumph Bonneville T-100 . A finer machine was never made. I was amazed that after all these years I could hop on that thing and feel 20 again. I LOVE THAT BIKE. I don't even know if I can explain what I feel when I am on it. But I'll try.

When I am riding, I feel inexplicably sexy and adventurous. I feel raw exhilaration, the adrenaline rushing through me. I feel alive and happy, strong and slightly dangerous (well that part might be easy to explain). The thumping vibration of this beastly machine is an almost sexual sensation, as cliche'ed and idiotic as it sounds. The instant speed and ability to outrun any car on the road is a guilty and juvenile pleasure that never seems to get old. Particularly satisfying is the ability to race some hot sports car driven by a testosterone-laden youth (up to the speed limit), leaving him in the dust. I love putting on my vintage leather jacket and having my daughter tell me I look "beautiful". The truth is, I feel beautiful, glorious even. When I put my helmet on, I am a knight in armor, fully prepared to perform some heroic act. On my motorcycle I am Evel Knievel, the Fonz, Marlon Brando in "The Wild One" (he rode a Triumph too btw), or Steve McQueen in "The Great Escape".

How stupid is that? Pretty stupid I'd say.


The fact is I don't understand why I feel this way. It's just a machine, a mode of transportation. There are millions of motorcycles, all driven by ordinary, boring people. Like me. I know this. And yet, when I am on my bike, I am this beautiful, confident, glamorous person, at least in my own mind, which is what counts.

And the fact is that I don't care how stupid this is, how juvenile and pointless, how dangerous and crazy it might be. I love who I am when I am riding. I want to enjoy and savor every precious moment I have on that thing. I want to accept and appreciate those feelings at face value without scrutinizing them too closely for as long as they last. I want to embrace everything that life has to offer me and squeeze the last drop of joy and excitement from everything I can.

Life is short. Prudence is overrated.