Cycle World Editorial

CYCLE WORLD EDITORIAL

PAUL DEAN

Is there life before death?

I think the inscription on my friend Charlie’s T-shirt says it best: “Life’s a bitch, and then you die.”

That’s all in good fun, naturally, but still, I find there’s a mountain of truth in those seven little words. Not

that I’m a prophet of doom or one of those poor wretches who manage to find a dark cloud in every silver lining. But I am a realist. And reality for most people is that life is no day at the beach. The times are precious and few in which we aren’t locked in hand-tohand combat with problems of some sort: money problems, job problems, family problems, health problems— you name it. And even when we aren’t actually stuck between a rock called fate and one of life’s little hard places, we spend a lot of time playing hideand-seek with problems that are lurking just around the corner, ready to pounce on us at any moment. So it’s no wonder that life often seems like nothing more than an endless series of speed bumps on the road to happiness.

Thankfully, most of us muddle through anyway, making the best from what we have to work with. But to do so with any degree of success and achieve a reasonable level of contentment, we need some occasional relief, some way of recharging our run-down spirits so we have enough strength to carry on. And one of the best ways to get that needed relief is through activities and amusements that help us forget our everyday troubles, however briefly, so we can simply enjoy life for a little while. Recreation, it’s called, a word that literally means what it says—to “re-create,” to give new life to our tired minds and weary bodies through some form of diversion.

Many people get the diversion they need by cultivating relatively passive hobbies—cooking, sewing, gardening, reading, painting and so on. Others prefer activities that provide more action or offer physical challenges, things like hunting, fishing, boating, flying, exercising or any of a countless number of ball-type games.

And some ride motorcycles.

Indeed, as a diversion, motorcycle

riding is just as legitimate as any other form of amusement. It’s even a wonderful catharsis for me, despite the fact that riding bikes constitutes much of my professional life. Because while I, like many people, engage in more than one free-time activity, my favorite is the same as the one you seem to have chosen: riding motorcycles.

Surprised? Don’t be. See, I’d like to be able to tell you that I do nothing all day but ride around on test bikes; but the cold, cruel truth is that I, like most other editorial types who work full-time for a motorcycle magazine, have to log at least as much time riding a desk or banging shifts on an IBM PC as I do piloting some trick new motorcycle. So sometimes, especially after a particularly trying day of attempting to solve the unsolvable, the only thing that keeps me from ending up in a rubber room is the 25mile ride home after work aboard the meanest, fastest, nastiest motorcycle I can find out in the Cycle World shop.

I suspect that many of you experience the same mind-cleansing effects from daily rides aboard your trusty motorcycles. And therein lies the beauty of motorcycling compared to most other diversionary activities: You don’t have to go out of your way to do it. Motorcycle riding is something just about anyone can enjoy while they’re en route to doing something else. I mean, not many people can somehow manage to sail to work every day, and the idea of sneaking in nine holes of golf on the way to the plant or incorporating a little trout fishing while heading to trig class is ludicrous; but the enjoyment of riding a motorcycle can be an integral, useful part of practically every day by injecting a little fun and exhilaration into the drudgery of commuting. And a motorcycle can even make simple errands like a chase down to the 7-11 for a quart of milk an invigorating experience.

Because you’re an active, committed motorcyclist, of course, none of this is news to you. But you might not

be aware that motorcycling is constantly under fire from critics who’d like to see it outlawed—along with skydiving, hang-gliding, all forms of motorized racing and any other activity that involves a calculated risk. They contend that these risk-takers are merely acting out some sort of “death wish,” that people who endanger their own lives in any way are perhaps just crazy enough to need protection from themselves.

Well, I can’t speak for hang-gliders, skydivers or participants in any of the other activities in question, just as I can’t offer a psychological profile of everyone who rides a motorcycle. But speaking for myself and, I believe, for most of the hundreds of motorcyclists I know, I can say without reservation that the anti-motorcycle critics are patently, indisputably wrong. Most of my riding friends and acquaintances are not in the least bit crazy; they might, in fact, be among the sanest people I know. And I’m convinced that motorcycling is a key part of what has helped them maintain their sanity. So, too, is all of this “death wish” business pure hogwash, for it’s been my observation that the vast majority of motorcycle riders are every bit as afraid of dying as anyone else is. It’s just that they’re not afraid of living, of getting some enjoyment out of life even if it involves a little risk. If anything, what they have is a life wish, not a death wish.

Besides, it’s all academic. Like Charlie’s T-shirt says, in the end, you are going to die anyway. That’s the one thing that is inevitable about life: It ends. Always. And in light of that, it seems futile to spend all of your days avoiding anything remotely risky and not really enjoying yourself just so you can live long enough to die. That’s not living; it’s merely existing.

Now, I’m not suggesting that people everywhere should run out and start taking unnecessary risks or acting in an irresponsible manner just for the fun of it. Nor am I suggesting that everyone ought to take up motorcycling just because they’re in need of a diversion. Anyone who engages in any activity without weighing the potential gains against the actual risks is a fool. And anyone who doesn’t want to ride motorcycles—or hang-glide or scuba-dive or anything else of the sort—simply shouldn’t. To each his own, as the saying goes.

But the point is that this thing called life isn’t a dress rehearsal; it’s the real thing. Enjoy it during this performance, because there isn’t going to be an encore.