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by 1e-9
1735 days ago
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I grew up riding dirt bikes. Later moved on to street bikes. Wandered many miles of beautiful deserts, mountains, plains, and rainforests. Had truly awesome experiences. Also had a few truly perilous experiences where the difference between life or death was razor thin. Fortunately, I escaped without major injury, but I’ve seen others not be so lucky. My strong advice is to never ride motorcycles. There’s plenty of other wonderful experiences to be had in this world without taking such risks. |
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I don't know what you would define as other wonderful experiences, but I suspect that someone rotten like me can't appreciate them. The madness of gambling with my life for no benefit at all is specifically why I ride. Appealing to a part of me that wants very much to die and be done with all. And appealing to the part that doesn't want to die, and forces me focus everything on the act of riding itself. Not the landscape, not the experience, but the act in of itself.
Apologies if it's strange to read, I have a difficult time trying to explain it... this is about as close as I can describe it, without writing long paragraphs.