Why do you ride?

 

From webBikeWorld:

We have a wacky theory for why people like to ride motorcycles, and it
goes like this: The act of riding is a form of meditation, because the
concentration that's required to safely ride a motorcycle tends to
focus the mind in a way that eliminates other mental distractions that
might interfere with the mission.  

This creates a single-mindedness that, in effect, displaces the
continuous stream of thoughts that normally flow through our
consciousness.  

Thoughts about what to eat, who to meet, and worries about the common
stresses of everyday life, such as pressures from work and home,
disappear from our minds during the ride, because the concentration
that's necessary to focus on the ride pushes those thoughts far into
the background.  

The result is that the mind becomes refreshed after a ride just like
it would after a session of formal meditation or a relaxing vacation.

Just like some people get "hooked" on meditation, motorcyclists get
hooked on riding because of the mental relief that it brings.  I
wouldn't be surprised if someone discovers that endorphins or
something are released during the act of riding.  I'm sure you've
noticed that you can't "zone out" on a motorcycle like you can when
driving a car.  

Riding safe means being focused and alert at all times – which is one
of the reasons why it's so important to stop and rest at frequent
intervals when riding a motorcycle on a long trip.

 


webBikeWorld is incorrect. The act of riding is *not* meditation,
because it doesn't require *thought* from millisecond to millisecond.

Sure, the rider has to decide where to go, why to go, and when to go,
what route he'll take and what time he'll return.

That's all the conscious mind in operation.

The mind thinks. Period.

Seekers of truth in Oriental religions (such as Buddhism) have long
challenged the novice to find his own conscious mind and point out its
physical location..

The novice invitably fails in the attempt to find his find, although
his conscious mind is always present anytime he's *thinking*.

The mind *is* thought, pure and simple.

No thought = no mind =no action.

So, when a rider is riding, who is in control from instant to instant,
making all the
tiny decisions and performing the physical motions required to
survive?

The subconscious mind does that job.

The subconscious mind does *not* think, it acts instinctively.

Of course the conscious mind does have a certain effect upon the
reactions of the
subconcious mind.

That's where rider training comes into play.

When faced with a dangerous situation, the subconscious mind reacts to
the situation faster and the response is more decisive.

 



I didn’t write this. But when I read it a part of me leapt in
response… I found it to be very eloquent......Why we Ride
There is rain and then there is rain on a motorcycle. It feels like
millions of pins striking you and that is in just a light rain. When
it gets heavy the drops feel huge and hard, the drops don’t even feel
like water. They feel like shards of bone fallen from the skies of
Hell to pock my face. I expect to arrive with my cheeks and forehead
streaked with blood, but that’s just an illusion, just the misery of
nerves not designed for highway speeds.
Despite this, it’s hard to give up my motorcycle. When you let a
motorcycle into your life you’re changed forever. The letters “MC” ar=
e
stamped on your driver’s license right next to your sex and weight as
if “motorcycle” was just another of your physical characteristics, or
maybe a mental condition. But when warm weather finally does come
around all those cold snaps and rainstorms are paid in full because a
summer is worth any price.
A motorcycle is not just a two-wheeled car; the difference between
driving a car and climbing onto a motorcycle is the difference between
watching TV and actually living your life. We spend all our time
sealed in boxes’ and cars are just the rolling boxes that shuffle us
from home-box to work-box to store-box and back, the whole time,
entombed in stale air, temperature regulated, sound insulated, and
smelling of carpets.
On a motorcycle I know I’m alive. When I ride, even the familiar seems
strange and glorious. The air has weight and substance as I push
through it and its touch is as intimate as water to a swimmer. I feel
the cool wells of air that pool under trees and the warm spokes of sun
that fall through them. I can see everything in a sweeping 360
degrees, up, down and around, wider than Pana-Vision and IMAX and
unrestricted by ceiling or dashboard. Sometimes I even hear music.
It’s like hearing phantom telephones in the shower or false doorbells
when vacuuming; the pattern-loving brain, seeking signals in the
noise, raises acoustic ghosts out of the wind’s roar. But on a
motorcycle I hear whole songs: rock ‘n roll, dark orchestras, women’s
voices, all hidden in the air and released by speed. At 30 miles per
hour and up, smells become uncannily vivid. All the individual tree-
smells and flower- smells and grass-smells flit by like chemical notes
in a great plant symphony. Sometimes the smells evoke memories so
strongly that it’s as though the past hangs invisible in the air
around me, wanting only the most casual of rumbling time machines to
unlock it. A ride on a summer afternoon can border on the rapturous.
The sheer volume and variety of stimuli is like a bath for my nervous
system, an electrical massage for my brain, a systems check for my
soul. It tears smiles out of me: a minute ago I was dour, depressed,
apathetic, numb, but now, on two wheels, big, ragged, windy smiles
flap against the side of my face, billowing out of me like air from a
decompressing plane.
Transportation is only a secondary function. A motorcycle is a joy
machine. It’s a machine of wonders, a metal bird, a motorized
prosthetic. It’s light and dark and shiny and dirty and warm and cold
lapping over each other; it’s a conduit of grace, it’s a catalyst for
bonding the gritty and the holy. It’s flying three feet off the
ground.

Learning to ride is one of the best things I’ve done.

 

dusty wrote:

I don't know about endorphins being released, but I definatly get a dose
of adrenalin!  :) The only reason I stop is for petrol/water, until I
get to the destination.

 

BrianNZ wrote:

I just want to keep away from all you riders who have a destination in
mind when you get on your bikes.  I rarely have a destination in mind
when I go out riding.  I get on the bike, pick a direction, when I come
to an intersection, I make a decision on the direction to go at that
time.  It's all about the journey.

--
Odinn
RCOS #7 SENS BS #154
2003 GeezerGlide w/130,000+ miles

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