Now I understand why a dog sticks his head out the car window.
I didn’t really appreciate it until I went for my first motorcycle ride.
It’s like being in tune with nature, living it and breathing it. In a vehicle, a person looks out the windshield or side window, which is similar to staring at a TV screen. But on a bike, you are part of the scenery. You feel the wind. You smell the air. You see the world in a different light, up close and personal.
My friend, Carol, let me borrow her husband for a fun ride. Mark was gracious enough to let me ride with him on the back of his Harley. Wearing jeans, short boots, pink jacket, matching pink helmet, Ray-Bans, I was good to go. We rode through three counties, out of Charlotte traffic and into the country. It was liberating and exhilarating. I soon learned to lean my body into the turns, sit back in the comfort of the leather-padded seat, and watch the scenery change. It reminded me of boating when I was young, only this time we didn’t skirt over water, just asphalt.
There’s a certain hum of the engine, a whine as it shifts down, a charge of power as it accelerates. For a biker, it’s music to the ears. Riding at sunset, or sunrise, when the world is rising to a new day or bidding the day goodnight, must feel like a sampling of heaven. I will leave you with an anonymous quote that says it all: “Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.”