Quite a few of us are over 50 years old now.
I guess it's time to buy a Harley Davidson cruiser.
Maybe even a Honda Goldwing.
Nice quiet ride rides to fancy cafes and drink our latte coffees.
Pardon my French, but bugger that for a joke.
And no offense intended to anyone who owns a Harley or cruiser, and is happy riding their
precious princess ponies.
I think we came into this world screaming and covered in blood so why not ride motorbikes
that increase our chances of the leaving this world the same way.
Who wants to be the Homer Simpson or Ned Flanders of the motorbike world, when you can be Duffman.
For cruiser riders, getting a little action simply means not eating fiber.
Harley riders?
They are only cautioned to slow down by the doctor, never the police.
You only get one life to live, so make the most of it.
They only thing that comes to he who waits, it's old age.
Get on your bike as much as you can, and ride as if you only have the one life to live.
Even if Islam or Christianity are true, there iis no evidence from motorbikes in the afterlife.
Me?
I only want to ride on tar if it's the only way to get to the next bit of dirt.
I want to feel the wind in my hair, or at least my nasal hairs if I'm too bald.
I want to splash through creeks and stay in hotels in little country towns I can't pronounce
the names of.
I want to ride to 300 country town and sample the beer in each one.
And if there aren't any pubs, we'll drink our beers in the nearest creek.
If the bridge is broken, we fix them just enough to get to the other side.
I want to set up camp miles from anywhere, just before it gets too dark to ride.
I want to camp all over this beautiful country, in forests, anywhere the track leads.
Even at the risk of Brokeback Mountain moments with guys whose wives are hundreds of miles
away lol.
I want to meet the country folk who are the backbone of this sunburnt nation.
I want to jump in rivers so cold our testicles won't descend again for two weeks.
I want to get so lost that even the GPS gives up and dies in a puff of smoke.
"Where the hell are we?!"
Picture yourself on your deathbed.
How many of us will say to ourselves "I should have less time riding, and more time in the
office"?
Why do we work so much instead of wringing all that we can out of life?
Do you really need so much money to buy shit you don't need, encouraged by advertising
to get happiness from having a fancy couch, or a more expensive rider mower than the neighbours?
Having said all that, it probably makes sense to make some concessions to these creaking
aging bodies of ours, as we get into our 50s.
The last few years we have seen our old bones are more likely to break nowadays than bend.
So wheelies are kept under 100kmh now.
We've been looking at slower ways to have fun.
So quite a few of us are getting into trials now.
It's a lot slower but there's still plenty of challenges.
And plenty of crashes.
But just bruises instead of broken bones and rattled brains.
The other change we older guys are making is cross training - applying trials riding
techniques to our dirt riding.
The net effect is just as much challenge, but the injuries are less severe.
We are usually in first or second gear in difficult terrain.
Focusing on balance and staying on the footpegs, instead of bashing our way through.
It's a pile of fun, and we like to think it's following in the footsteps of the best
extreme enduro riders like Graham Jarvis.
But something tells me we might have left it a little bit late in life to reach his
skill levels!
But in the end it doesn't matter how good or bad you ride.And you will meet some of
the best guys and girls on the planet to give you the finger.
Whatever style of riding you like, just get into it before it's too late.
Racing through a nursing home in your wheelchair will never be quite the same as exploring
country you've never seen, or learning new tricks, or experiencing the pure unadulterated
joy of riding a motorbike.