“My own belief is that my brain wasn’t able to distinguish between euphoria/happiness for what it was”.
On Thursday, my boss asked me to ride down with him to a rally over the weekend.
I haven’t ridden a motorcycle in a few years, but I have one sitting in the back of the shop. This bike has been sitting dormant for ages and neither of us had made more than 10 miles on 2 wheels in years.
So on Friday, I wheel her out and get her on the stand. I pull the wheels off, replace the drive belt, rebuild (and replace about half) the front brake system entirely, drain and replace the fluids, tune her up and put about a mile on her right before the kids get off the bus. She’s sketchy… but she runs.
Then I trailer her to the Surfside (about 30 miles away from the rally), unload her and she promptly starts to fuck off. Dead Battery, won’t stay running.
So, I fuck with her a bit in this gas station parking lot and get her running well enough to ride. She’s running rough but she runs and I put her on the road.
She struggled as she worked through the old fuel (and I knew she would). She struggled to get to 45mph… until she didn’t. Then she did exactly what I expected her to do and started running like a monster.
At one point, I got her up to about 100MPH and let her settle back down to 70MPH and that moment is something I’ll never forget.
The Beach was to my right, the dunes to my left, a perfect straight track of Asphalt as far as my eyes could see and a 96ci engine, that was running like a sewing machine, beneath me. It was magical and dare I say euphoric.
You know what I didn’t get though? A fucking hard-on…. Because while it was euphoric, I was enjoying the moment and not playing into a fetish.
