Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Riding

It's still winter. I'm reading the February issue of MotorCyclistmagazine and it's having the same affect on me as the movie Faster did a few weeks ago. There is a great series of articles about dream bikes and the Barber Motorsports Park in Leeds, Alabama. I would love to ride there on track day sometime but would be too intimidated. My riding abilities are strictly street. I think my best riding was in 2003 during a job I had at Camp Hale in Colorado. Camp Hale is in the mountains between Vail and Leadville. There is a twisty stretch of road (US 24) that climbs from Vail at approximately 8000 Ft to Leadville at over 10,000 Ft. It's a fairly scary road in parts with long drops to the canyon floor below. I would ride the thirty miles at least three times a week. I came to know how fast I could go in the straight aways and when to start breaking. There are two sharp, nicely banked horse shoe turns that I learned to master until I could scrape the pegs. Then I started riding State Rt 131. It had more curves per mile by far than US 24. The second weekend I rode it I was pushing like I never had. I'll never forget that ride. I can't think of any time in my life that I've been that exhilarated. I was literally laughing out loud several times. It was a moderately cool day but I was sweating and grunting from the exertion. As I came down out of the hills I pulled onto a flat stretch of ground and started to slow down and it reminded me of pulling in to the end of a roller coaster ride. I did something I've never done before, I cried. Yes, I've cried before but I've never been moved to tears from joy. It sounds corny but it was the most pure feeling I've ever had. I also met Lisa on that job at Camp Hale. 2003 will go in my history books as my best year to date.

Several years ago I was diagnosed with "clinical depression". After a particularly severe bout of depression, a few things happened that changed my life. I determined that the counselor I had was fruitier than I was and I started riding in earnest. I'm not suggesting that this is the cure for everyone but I know it worked for me. I haven't cried from joy since that time in Colorado but some of the happiest times I've had are while I've been locked away inside my helmet and myself.