There are many definitions to the noun "freedom". I prefer to use the definition: "the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity." for this post.
Motorcycles are a means to freedom. A motorcycle is a very unique piece of machinery. It can serve a multitude of purposes; from being the means of commute to the ordinary motorcyclist to a means of travel to the passionate motorcyclist.
Riding a motorcycle for many years, not for the express purpose of commute, but for the way the senses feel is something that teaches one a lot of lessons. One of the primary lessons is in enduring discomfort, I think. After all, riding a motorcycle for long distances, exposed to the elements, with the bums getting burnt and the thighs getting the crease marks that outline the shape of the saddle, all of these are borderline discomforts. They are willingly chosen, almost to a point of non-chancy.
There is nothing else one would want to do more, when they are bitten by the bug of riding a motorcycle for the sheer pleasure of riding one, exploring new destinations and places, singing praises, sometimes too melodramatic, about the joy of being on the road. There is a freedom about it, something that cannot be possibly derived from driving a car.
Riding a bike as a means of travel, as a means of getting from one destination to another in a way that makes one vulnerable, exposed to the elements and to be together, yet alone is a very unique and a rewarding feeling. Riding a bike to explore the world, traverse its landscapes and cover great distances, sometimes at great speeds is an experience that gives us a overwhelming sense of freedom.
The thought of having the ability to go anywhere, at my own pace and on my own time is something that creates envy in the eyes of many. But there is a flip side to all this romanticism. A side that is only known to the rider.
Riding a motorcycle is also a very lonely experience. Inside the helmet, within the visor, it is just me and my thoughts. The music might play and I can sing along for a little while. But eventually, the music becomes a quite drone in the background as the wind wanders and wonders.
Whether it is joy, happiness, anger or sadness, within that visor, I am alone. There is nobody to share the moments except myself. Nobody. The helmet hides unfathomable emotions. And all of these feelings have made me understand one thing;
The price of overwhelming freedom is isolation
Read some of my opinion posts via the links below:
Opinions - The similarity between motorcycle racers and fighter pilots
Opinions - Going fast to slow down time
Opinions - We need to travel to develop empathy
Opinions - The importance of anchors in our lives
Opinions - Our toys have not changed. They have only gotten bigger
Opinions - Of Mortal Dreams and Motorcycles
Opinions - Of motorcycles and love stories
Of Scuba Diving and Motorcycle Racers - A slow life between fast lanes?
Read some of my travel stories and photologs via the links below:
Up above the Arctic Circle - Tromso and the Northern Lights
A solo backpacking trip across the UK
Cycling 500km across Europe: Dtube
A solo roadtrip across the western Ghats and meeting my favorite dog!
Exploring God’s Own Country on a Motorcycle – Dtube
500km of cycling across Europe - A photolog
Read some of the letters my bike writes on a regular basis:
Hope writes a letter - Crazy fridays and I find out I am not a car person
Hope writes a letter - Hello world! I am Hope!
Check out some of my popular posts below:
Motorcycle Stories - How I got into Motorcycle racing
A high-speed crash and life lessons
Introduction Post - My introduction for Steemit
That's it for now, cheers!
