We rush toward light, we ride into mountains and towards the sea.
There are chances we take. We dare to chance life.
Ride life as if it were a storm and you a storm rider. Run ahead of the rain, laugh when it catches up to you, and thrill to each and every sunset.
That, to me, is living real. That, to me, is where the fun is. Are your ready to ride?
I long to ride to the sea, to witness surf pound upon sand, to smell briney air mixed in fog, to hear the ancient sound of a pulsing tide rushing through rock and stone.
Down to the sea we should ride.
Just as waves curl and crash over the shallows, we riders countersteer and lean deeply into turns of the road. It's simple physics actually.
In the case of the wave the shoreline bottom exerts drag and friction upon the water rushing over it. The water at the bottom slows, yet the water at the surface continues to move at a faster pace. Voila, a crashing wave.
On the road, we see the turn: We see the line, and we commence the countersteer to put us into the perfect combination of lean and angle.
The inside of the tar narrows at the curve's apex. We accelerate through the turn, find a moment of absolute balance, and the inertia propels the motorcycle past the apex into an upright position for the next dance.
It is absolute magic when performed correctly.
Towerering dunes shaped by wind and sand call the traveler to abandon road and ride untethered from pavement. As we say in Bimmer Land, that's a GS Adventure.
This is Morocco -- destination Erg Chebbi.
Note to self: worth a visit for certain.
Posts
All Comments
