10. Learning the Ropes
Passing my test first time was a challenge and I slowly progressed with my riding to a level I thought was relatively good. But as the months passed, I found I'd barely scratched the two-wheeled surface. Just watching the professional riders showed me how far I could stretch my ability. The more I ride, the more I learn.
09. Motorbikes aren't for everyone
Being into bikes isn't ultimately so different to train-spotting. We have our own jargon; so do they. We can spend all day just looking at the objects of our desires; so can they. We have a shocking anorak knowledge of the subject we love; so do they. The only real difference is that indulging a passion for motorcycles may just earn you a one-way trip to meet the reaper, which, short of tripping on his thermos and plunging headlong underneath the 11.23 to Crewe, is not something your average train-spotter has to contend with. Without this ever-present danger (which, as we all know, is far less than Joe Public imagines it to be), there would be no challenge to riding, no thrill at pushing your abilities, and no reward in getting it right. And without any danger we'd be stuffed because bikes would then be safe and everyone would be at it. Your nan would be popping over on a GSX-R1000, your mum would want a Blade, and we'd be about as cool as, well, train-spotters.
08. Surviving a massive moment
The first heart-skipping moment is immediately followed by a wave of adrenalin surging through your system and an odd metallic taste in your mouth. You made it. Relief turns to hysterical laughter. What is it about surviving a near-death experience on a bike that makes you want to laugh? The split-second after a massive moment when you know you've made it is a rush. Later, thinking yourself back through it gives a tingle of excitement, but tainted with 'what ifs' as you've had more time to consider the consequences. Knowing all is well and you're alive despite nearly not being so, is better than any drug.
