Junkie

Today was not my best day on a motorcycle by far - yet somehow I still feel better off for having ridden. I suppose part of me right now thinks that maybe I just should have rolled over in bed this morning, said ‘fuck it’ and stayed away from the canyons. But then the rest of me doesn’t quite agree. Getting on the bike today - even though far from perfect - was still better than just about anything else I can imagine doing with my time.
Odd how that works.
I suppose it’s one of the more quirky things that happens to all of us as riders. At some point the act of riding transforms from simply being an activity into what I can only describe as a life-force. It surrounds you, it envelops you, and it becomes you. One day you wake up and find yourself incessantly thinking about it and dreaming about it and god knows, reading about it. Constantly. Every chance you get. Always aware that there’s more knowledge out there, more information you can absorb, more roads to travel, more things to see, more places to stop and enjoy.
Eventually you find yourself living for these precious few hours during which you have the opportunity to just ride. You plan your entire week around this constantly morphing activity where no two rides are every the same and there is no perfection. Just the quest to get out there and do it.
Some days it’s magnificent and other days it’s just ordinary. And while ordinary is still better than nothing – on some level it’s not quite enough. It doesn’t quite bring you up to the same place. In a way it’s almost akin to a drug habit - only less detrimental to your physical health. Without the high that comes from a great or an amazing ride you don’t quite know what to do. Normally when I come home from a ride I’m still beaming. Still engrossed in the afterglow of the moment.
Yet when I have a day like today it’s a bit more bizarre. I’ve spent all week waiting for this and now it’s not good enough. It’s not powerful enough. It’s not quite fulfilling and yet I know can be. So mentally instead of reliving today, I’ve already time-shifted to that next opportunity… That next weekend. That next ride. That next moment. And I know it sounds strange, but I’m already craving that experience. As if I had never ridden today even though I did…











That was soooo beautiful!!! Thank you so much for reminding me how much I need to hit the canyons! All I ever do anymore is commute and occasionally do a trackday. I really need to go play in Malibu again soon…
Suz
That’s a beautiful picture at the top. Brought back many fond memories.
Well said, Dylan. Riding is like making love: When it’s good it’s great and when it’s bad it’s still pretty good.
Dylan,
Road 600 miles round trip Sat to ride an 11 mile stretch called Caesars Head SC. It was my frist trip to the twistys of SC/NC. I got to the bottom of the mountain and it started to rain after three hours of bright blue 75 degree weather..oh man. So I rolled off the throttle and did my normal counter steering but then remembered Pridmore and put some body into it.
All the way up I struggled with the curves and then on the way down on a nastly, downhill hairpin, decreasing radius turn, the bike came around so fast I thought my head was going through my helmet- it is an amazing feeling when it comes together. To your point it might be a while before I experience that again- all we can do is plan for the next ride and watch the sunset once in a while- love your pictures.
Scott
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