Link to original post: [drupal=870]Ride a Motorcycle at least once[/drupal]
I work in Network Administration. Nothing too grand or thrilling. I work with computers, partly why I'm on Smashboards 16 hours a day (Just kidding - but seriously >.>) and at the very least, I'd never ridden a motorcycle before.
"So do ya wanna come to lunch?" my colleague, Isaac, asks one last time, finally standing up and out of his chair. He'd been going on about how we were meant to meet up with one of his housemates for lunch at a sushi place. I quite like the sushi place we normally go to. Top stuff, I'd recommend sushi train to anyone living on the Gold Coast.
For the 3rd time or so, I say "Yes," quite excited about the prospect of sharing a lunch of Raw fish and rice, but my heart sunk at his next few words "Okay, go grab the helmet then".
Now I'd come up against this before, though he'd forewarned me in the past when he only had the bike in, and I'd politely refused, not wanting to ride on his motorcycle.
This time I could've backed down too. I guess it was the dwindling remains of my masculine pride that gulped down that impending feeling of doom and grabbed the spare helmet we keep in the office for just this situation.
Outside the office sits the red beast. A late model Honda Fireblade. It's really a site to behold, a red blazing baron of the road. We both fasten our helmets and I jump on the back, holding my arms around him and kind of gripping the gas tank.
When we started up, it was like learning to drive again. You remember when you first got into the car, and driving on the local street was the absolute most terrifying thing. I remember it quite vividly actually. 40 km/h isn't very fast at all, but I was so afraid of running over someone that I don't think I could have gripped the wheel even harder.
This was that all over again, and we were barely breaking 20km/h as we rode towards the exit of the place I work at.
Just as I was beginning to adjust to our current snail's pace of speed, we were out on the road. As soon as my colleague had found an opening, we were speeding off down a local road. I was feeling pretty scared then, thinking that maybe at the next set of lights I'd just jump off and walk back to work.
Though, that next set of lights never came. We turned off the local road and right onto the highway. He pulled on the throttle and produced an incredible burst of speed, sending us hurtling down the highway at something close to 120+ km/h, probably more, though I didn't care to take note of how much we were exceeding the speed limit by, especially when I had the task of clinging for dear life to attend to.
I was feeling extremely mortal at that point. It's not often that it happens. I don't like heights, but even looking over the edge of a cliff was usually done behind a safety rail. In this situation I had nothing. If somehow the bike or its rider failed, I'd die. I had no protective gear, not to mention that I'm of very slight build.
In the end we did make it to lunch, and the journey back was a little less nerve wracking somehow. The important thing I took away from this is that I now value my life a lot more than I take it for. Especially on the road. Cruising along in a car is something that's easy to become complacent with. On a motorcycle you really experience how fast you are traveling and it makes you very wary of just how badly injured you could be in a crash.
Everybody should ride a motorcycle at least once, if only for the experience.
I work in Network Administration. Nothing too grand or thrilling. I work with computers, partly why I'm on Smashboards 16 hours a day (Just kidding - but seriously >.>) and at the very least, I'd never ridden a motorcycle before.
"So do ya wanna come to lunch?" my colleague, Isaac, asks one last time, finally standing up and out of his chair. He'd been going on about how we were meant to meet up with one of his housemates for lunch at a sushi place. I quite like the sushi place we normally go to. Top stuff, I'd recommend sushi train to anyone living on the Gold Coast.
For the 3rd time or so, I say "Yes," quite excited about the prospect of sharing a lunch of Raw fish and rice, but my heart sunk at his next few words "Okay, go grab the helmet then".
Now I'd come up against this before, though he'd forewarned me in the past when he only had the bike in, and I'd politely refused, not wanting to ride on his motorcycle.
This time I could've backed down too. I guess it was the dwindling remains of my masculine pride that gulped down that impending feeling of doom and grabbed the spare helmet we keep in the office for just this situation.
Outside the office sits the red beast. A late model Honda Fireblade. It's really a site to behold, a red blazing baron of the road. We both fasten our helmets and I jump on the back, holding my arms around him and kind of gripping the gas tank.
When we started up, it was like learning to drive again. You remember when you first got into the car, and driving on the local street was the absolute most terrifying thing. I remember it quite vividly actually. 40 km/h isn't very fast at all, but I was so afraid of running over someone that I don't think I could have gripped the wheel even harder.
This was that all over again, and we were barely breaking 20km/h as we rode towards the exit of the place I work at.
Just as I was beginning to adjust to our current snail's pace of speed, we were out on the road. As soon as my colleague had found an opening, we were speeding off down a local road. I was feeling pretty scared then, thinking that maybe at the next set of lights I'd just jump off and walk back to work.
Though, that next set of lights never came. We turned off the local road and right onto the highway. He pulled on the throttle and produced an incredible burst of speed, sending us hurtling down the highway at something close to 120+ km/h, probably more, though I didn't care to take note of how much we were exceeding the speed limit by, especially when I had the task of clinging for dear life to attend to.
I was feeling extremely mortal at that point. It's not often that it happens. I don't like heights, but even looking over the edge of a cliff was usually done behind a safety rail. In this situation I had nothing. If somehow the bike or its rider failed, I'd die. I had no protective gear, not to mention that I'm of very slight build.
In the end we did make it to lunch, and the journey back was a little less nerve wracking somehow. The important thing I took away from this is that I now value my life a lot more than I take it for. Especially on the road. Cruising along in a car is something that's easy to become complacent with. On a motorcycle you really experience how fast you are traveling and it makes you very wary of just how badly injured you could be in a crash.
Everybody should ride a motorcycle at least once, if only for the experience.
