Head Games in the Canyons

The MV Agusta F4 at the top of Stunt Road

It’s bright. Blindingly bright. So bright in fact that it feels like summer and not spring… Finally… Beneath me the F4 hums. It’s four high mounted organ pipes blasting out a unique overture that seems to scream for world domination — or at least make clear its desire for conquest… Each blip, each twist, each corner exit bring its soul to life… And makes me smile… As the engine continuously itself turns over, I can feel the machines’ unquenchable thirst, no strike that, need, for more… Speed… Lean… Roar… And it feels good… Really good…

But I know it wants more… That it needs more…

Only, I’m not sure I can take it.

The continuous effects from the post moto-crash hangover, which while slowly subsiding still ache… And there’s no Advil in sight. Yet as I shoot up the canyon’s hillside, there’s a determination that’s hanging in the air. A sense of reality that suddenly doesn’t seem quite so snake bitten. For the first time in awhile I feel like I can see the glory beginning to return. That I can feel ‘it’, whatever ‘it’ is, coming back.

Banging into the next bend the bike feels so damn planted. So secure. That without even thinking about it, I find myself sliding a little bit further off the saddle, sticking out my knee just a touch more and tentatively leaning into the turn one more degree at a time… ‘This is what it’s supposed to be like,’ I find myself thinking…

And then I see the thin layer of dirt hovering over the asphalt. A shot of trepidation shoots right through me. Instantly I tense up. Battle the bike. Fight the very thing I love…

But the bike never fails. Just holds its line. Stays calm. Says, ‘don’t worry about it, I’ve got you’… And a deep breath later, I try to ease up…

And so it goes, each corner a fluid interaction between where I want to be and where I am… Yet today there were more steps forward than backwards… Even if they happened only one step at a time…