Motorbikling

 
In the spirit of effective time management I scheduled a mid-life crisis straight after my 30^th birthday. It’s best to get these things out of the way then I can just relax my way through mid-life. As proof of my premature existential panic, I bought a motorbike. I had enjoyed riding on the back of one before so it wasn’t completely out of the blue but it was quite out of character (which was the general idea).The split down the middle of my personality rumbled and cracked under the strain as the curser hovered over the ‘confirm bid’ button on eBay. The captive prisoner of fun prevailed and I bought a Suzuki GN125. I was initially exhilarated and extremely pleased with myself for being so impulsive (in quite a drawn out way). I envisaged myself riding down open roads in the sunshine, pulling up to my destination and unleashing my lioness mane, shampoo advert style.  This dream-bubble was abruptly burst when I saw myself in the mirror for the first time with all my kit on. I’d got some motorbike clothing free with the bike. Unfortunately, the former owner was a man so when I got the oversized leather jacket and gloves on I looked like I was wearing my dad’s clothes. I topped this look off with a pair of geek glasses and a helmet with the word ‘climax’ emblazoned across the front.

I love lots of things about my bike: her classic style and short stature (draw comparisons if you will). I like how I can still get both feet on the ground when I’m sat on her and how I can pick her up by myself. It’s a good job really because these are things that have become more and more necessary as I’ve got to know Suzie Suzuki. She is a changeable and temperamental creature with a cruel sense of humour.

I could mention the time she broke down in the pissing rain leaving me stranded miles from home. Or the time she wouldn’t start at 6.30 in the morning making me miss my train. Or the tightly sprung side stand that makes it almost impossible not to drop her every time I attempt to park. No, the experience that sums up the perseverance and determination required to be a free-spirited motorcyclist is my attempt to get to a work meeting this week. I greeted Suzie with a knowing smile and braced myself for whatever test she had in store for me. She wouldn’t start. I live on a slope so I pushed her to the road, put her in second and ran (sort of) down the hill on the bike and slowly released the clutch at the optimum point. Nothing.  I pushed her for another ten minutes to the top of the next hill. I did the same again but this time on a much steeper incline and…. ‘lift off’, she was running and we were away. Ten minutes in and I had to stop for petrol. She was warmed up by this point so I didn’t think this would be a problem.  Wrong. She wouldn’t start. Opposite the garage loomed a road leading up a hill. I took a deep breath and set off. The sun was beating down on me, prime conditions for pushing a motorbike up a hill in full leathers and a helmet! She started on the way down and we were on our way again. After a few minor hiccups, I arrived at my meeting late, hot, red and sweaty. That’s the kind of professional image I like to portray.

She started first time after the meeting but half way home she was back to her old tricks and, in the middle of a busy high street, she conked out at a set of lights. I was on a hill at this point so, after pulling over, I decided the only thing to do was to pull back out into the traffic and run down the hill on the bike to try and bump start her again. I gave it my all but only succeeded in entertaining numerous passers-by with my frog-like running style. By this point I was quite near the garage that I’d stopped at earlier and…the hill. The sun was even stronger by this point and I could already feel little rivulets of sweat trickling down my neck as I reached the foot of the hill. I reached the top and, after getting my breath back, I set off down again. Nothing. Not a sausage. This was a low point to be honest and she nearly had me beat. The lack of options open to me and the small group of people gathered watching me at the other side of the road spurred me on. Up I went again……and on…..and on….further up the hill. I had to stop five times on the way but I reached the top and almost dropped her from sheer exhaustion. Off we went and near the bottom she started up and gave a confident roar that said, “What this? This is easy!” She took me all the way home and rode like a dream the whole way. I think she knew I’d reached my limit.

Suzie has taught me a few things about myself: that I am capable of pushing a motorbike up the same hill 3 times, that life isn’t a shampoo advert and that character traits like being care-free and spontaneous don’t come on wheels.

Did a motorbike change my life?

When Suzie is on form I really love the feeling of flying down the road, leaning her round corners and accelerating till she starts shaking. These things, and the fear of dying horribly in a biking accident, make me feel present in the moment.  Despite the trials I have been through getting from A to B, owning and riding a motorbike has to score quite highly on changing my life, with points deducted for making me face my true-self (both in the mirror and metaphorically).

Rating: 8/10

Comments: Not quite the fantasy I had in mind but certainly a challenging experience that has changed my life for the better. Suzie has made me realise that I do have the capacity to enjoy the moment even if she makes me work for it.

Development Opportunities: Get a motorbike that works?