While casually riding my Harley down the centre of the A22 dual carriageway, past my stationary fellow car travellers, on my way to Airbourne on Sunday I started to wonder what other experiences they don’t really tell you about that are the unique domain of the biker.
So I thought I'd share some of my favourite, biker-only experiences on this sunny Monday morning in August.
So I thought I'd share some of my favourite, biker-only experiences on this sunny Monday morning in August.
1. We can smell the rain coming
The trees, the grass and the road itself adopt a smell of metallic dampness and the biker knows, just like Jon Snow, that winter, well rain, is coming. We slow the bike a notch through the corners, and watch the surface for the tell-tale darkening of water and the rainbow treacheries of oil in the case where we are chasing the storm.
Readying ourselves, perhaps even stopping to adopt better clothing, for the oncoming rain because...
Readying ourselves, perhaps even stopping to adopt better clothing, for the oncoming rain because...
2. Rain stings like hell at 60+ mph
Open-face helmets are perfect for enjoying the wind and the sun, but when the rain comes it’s like small needles being thrown directly into your face.
We’re not wearing buffs because of some middle-aged desire to look like an outlaw, those buffs are all that stand between our face and needles of rain hitting it at 60+mph.
Also rain is only part of the problem, there are ...
We’re not wearing buffs because of some middle-aged desire to look like an outlaw, those buffs are all that stand between our face and needles of rain hitting it at 60+mph.
Also rain is only part of the problem, there are ...
3. Bugs are like Bullets to the Face
The somewhat romantic, devil-may-care phrasing of “The wind in your face and bugs in your teeth” just doesn’t do these insect projectiles justice! At anything over 50mph, bugs turn from something that is annoying, to hardened bullets intent on tearing your face to pieces.
Once again, reaching for the buff is an option, ah but the joy for the majority of the journey if you can avoid it in the wind and the sun … until that next big bug surprises you and dents your cheek at 70.
Once again, reaching for the buff is an option, ah but the joy for the majority of the journey if you can avoid it in the wind and the sun … until that next big bug surprises you and dents your cheek at 70.
4. A well-taken corner, at any speed, is the epitome of man-machine bliss
Enough of the bad bits, here is the some of the huge paybacks!
Your head cocks to the alternate angle for the bend, giving you a look like you’re trying to peer around the corner. This causes the big bike beneath you to almost lean and turn itself into the corner, a feeling that is indescribable in its simplicity and elegance.
Biker and bike become, admittedly slightly cliched, one as you cruise around the corner in what feels like a vaguely physics-breaking (but is of course entirely physics-embracing) manner.
Your head cocks to the alternate angle for the bend, giving you a look like you’re trying to peer around the corner. This causes the big bike beneath you to almost lean and turn itself into the corner, a feeling that is indescribable in its simplicity and elegance.
Biker and bike become, admittedly slightly cliched, one as you cruise around the corner in what feels like a vaguely physics-breaking (but is of course entirely physics-embracing) manner.
5. The journey really is the point
As Alain de Botton unwraps for the reader in his excellent “The Art of Travel”, the beauty of travelling is in the noticing of the journey itself.
Dan Ackroyd (a fellow Harley rider like myself) then also points out, nothing keeps you in an almost zen-like state of awareness and noticing than the fact when you’re on a bike most people haven’t seen you, and the ones that have are actively out to kill you … it helps to be that paranoid!
You notice the wind, the smells, the surface of the road, the fluid movement of the traffic, the smiles and lack of smiles on people’s faces … you notice everything, and that makes every moment of your journey a joy.
Dan Ackroyd (a fellow Harley rider like myself) then also points out, nothing keeps you in an almost zen-like state of awareness and noticing than the fact when you’re on a bike most people haven’t seen you, and the ones that have are actively out to kill you … it helps to be that paranoid!
You notice the wind, the smells, the surface of the road, the fluid movement of the traffic, the smiles and lack of smiles on people’s faces … you notice everything, and that makes every moment of your journey a joy.