Dark Angel
Still kickin' it!
I, Biker...
You’re halted at the red-glow traffic lights, demonstrating “mechanical sympathy” by having the bike in neutral. Front brake applied, right foot down, left foot on the peg ready to select first gear. The lights are about to go to red/amber. You pull the clutch in and get that ever-so satisfying “clunk” as you select first gear. Then – the left foot goes down, the right foot comes up and you hold the bike on the rear brake. You’re ready.
You feel a tingle of excitement that travels from the pit of your stomach and up through your arms to snuggle smugly at the back of your neck. You notice your hand almost imperceptibly testing its grip on the throttle. This has nothing to do with you now. Reflex rules apply.
The road ahead is a dual carriageway leading onto a motorway that curves gracefully and predictably into a beautifully cambered, uphill right-hand bend designed by a bloke who secretly worships bikes. He’s done a great job and you take a deep breath – s-l-o-w-l-y – so that no one can see.
The lights go gree.. and you GO, accelerating as hard as you can for no other reason than that. You can. You don’t do it often these days, so the transformation of the docile work bike into the screaming, snarling, thrusting-bastard-beast beneath you puts a huge grin on your face that becomes a grimace as you grit your teeth and GO for it!
Even before you know it, you’re through the bend and up the hill, the mirrors mocking the empty road behind you. Not a glimmer. Not a hope. Your mind snarls in contempt:”Cars!” and you laugh – at them – at yourself – at everything. You’re alive!
You’re still on the motorway but you slow down. Reflex rules relinquished. You’ve had your kicks – enjoyed your little speed fix – and now you “calm” your way home, all the while enjoying, loving the fantastic sound; that special, hollow, resonating pulse of an engine that was, even if only for a short time, as free and unfettered as it was always intended to be. Just like you. Just like me.
Have fun. Ride free. Ride safe.
Created Friday, 7 October 2015 at 19:20
I wrote this shortly before I retired.
Reading it this morning with a fresh eye: I guess I never realised how happy I was, then!
You’re halted at the red-glow traffic lights, demonstrating “mechanical sympathy” by having the bike in neutral. Front brake applied, right foot down, left foot on the peg ready to select first gear. The lights are about to go to red/amber. You pull the clutch in and get that ever-so satisfying “clunk” as you select first gear. Then – the left foot goes down, the right foot comes up and you hold the bike on the rear brake. You’re ready.
You feel a tingle of excitement that travels from the pit of your stomach and up through your arms to snuggle smugly at the back of your neck. You notice your hand almost imperceptibly testing its grip on the throttle. This has nothing to do with you now. Reflex rules apply.
The road ahead is a dual carriageway leading onto a motorway that curves gracefully and predictably into a beautifully cambered, uphill right-hand bend designed by a bloke who secretly worships bikes. He’s done a great job and you take a deep breath – s-l-o-w-l-y – so that no one can see.
The lights go gree.. and you GO, accelerating as hard as you can for no other reason than that. You can. You don’t do it often these days, so the transformation of the docile work bike into the screaming, snarling, thrusting-bastard-beast beneath you puts a huge grin on your face that becomes a grimace as you grit your teeth and GO for it!
Even before you know it, you’re through the bend and up the hill, the mirrors mocking the empty road behind you. Not a glimmer. Not a hope. Your mind snarls in contempt:”Cars!” and you laugh – at them – at yourself – at everything. You’re alive!
You’re still on the motorway but you slow down. Reflex rules relinquished. You’ve had your kicks – enjoyed your little speed fix – and now you “calm” your way home, all the while enjoying, loving the fantastic sound; that special, hollow, resonating pulse of an engine that was, even if only for a short time, as free and unfettered as it was always intended to be. Just like you. Just like me.
Have fun. Ride free. Ride safe.
Created Friday, 7 October 2015 at 19:20
I wrote this shortly before I retired.
Reading it this morning with a fresh eye: I guess I never realised how happy I was, then!
