Musing on Motorcycles
Funny things motorbikes. When you're young they seem so iconic. When you old they seem so symbolic. When they blast up the street they seem so noisy.
When I was very young I used to see Evel Knievel featured on the news, preparing once again to crash his bike spectacularly in front of thousands. He wasn't the first to do motorcycle stunts by any means, the 'Wall of Death' sometimes featured in circuses and so on, but Mr Knievel had a talent for publicity. It seems though he had little talent for riding. Nonetheless, he had no regard for the dangers involved, and you can't help but admire him for that.
You can't help but admire the media circus that followed him. I too had a motorcycle stunt toy. A sort of wind up thingy that shot off a launcher across the jury-rigged leap of death-defying scale between stacks of books and plywood boards. That poor toy always ended as a mangled heap of plastic againt the opposite wall. The funny thing was the painted expression on his face. A permanent grin like "This is hell... Help me..."
These days though the level of talent involved in motorcycle stunts has improved a great deal. I see tv programs where youngsters make astonishing leaps and arrive with astronautic precision on the earth ramp the other end. A few days ago I watched a 'freestyle motocross' event in which they not only leap, but perform backflips and aerial gymnastics en route. Astonishing.
For me though motorcycles were never a step toward manhood. I went straight for cars. I've done some pretty daft things in them in my younger days (good grief why are human beings so completely irresponsible when they're eighteen?) but to be honest I can't claim to have leapt thirteen double decker buses in one.
I also know that many older people buy motorcycles to recapture that spirit of youth. Harley Davidsons seem to be the most popular for that, though why this is so is beyond me, since almost everyone else spits in fury at at the very name of that manufacturer. Personally I have no intention of trying to recapture my youth. Why would I need a second childhood? Most people think I haven't left my first one yet.
Reminisence of the Week
I was working as a delivery driver, and one of my stops was a boatyard north of Henley. I found the place, delievered thepackage, got the signature, and set off for my next destination. I stopped before pulling out onto the main road. Look left, look right. Some distance away to my right was a lone motorbike. No conflicting traffic then, so I turned left onto the road and proceeded toward a nearby bridge over the River Thames.
This bridge was at an angle to the road, almost hidden by riverside trees. It was also an old victorian humpbacked stone bridge with no way to see anything coming the other side of it. Then in my mirror I spotted the rider. Just before the bridge he was attempting to overtake. I widened my eyes in alarm. He can't be serious?
He was. He went for it. The little two stroke opened up and buzzed like a manic wasp. Then I noticed a car coming over the bridge. Being in a van, I was much higher than the rider passing on my right, and I doubt he saw it. I braked to let the rider past and winced as the car turned the bend in the face of the bike.
The rider swept past me and swerved back into lane with inches to spare. He wobbled a little before accelerating away across the bridge and that was it. He was gone.
He was very nearly a goner. Why are eighteen year olds so irresponsible on motorbikes? Actually, I can imagine his adrenaline rush afterward, and a big grin on his face from having faced danger and surviving. Somehow though.... I doubt he was competition for Evel Knievel, talent or not.
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