Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS writer.
When I need to be nowhere any time soon, there’s no better feeling than to be lost with my girl on a windy beach road, far, far, from home. On my motorcycle, it’s all about me; and the only place that matters is that which is around me right now.
Watch my speed, look out for hazards, scan the road surface, am I in the right gear, where’s the right place to brake and accelerate. After endless miles, these things have become second nature, and we ride as one.
I study the camber and radius of every corner, keeping my head horizontal through each one as my boots and foot-pegs sometimes scrape the tarmac when I’m leaned over too far. I calculate the perfect time to accelerate hard out of the apex of each corner. As I get hard on the gas, I’m rewarded with the symphony of the gearbox winding, the exhaust note rumbling, and the roar of the induction screaming through her lungs. She might kick and buck and scream for me to be gentle, but in the end she does what I ask of her, and we always get to where we are going safely.
My skin can feel the world around me; the temperature change as we rise and fall through the hills; the heat of the sun on my leathers; the rain on my face through my open visor, the cold making me shiver, the wind blowing me from side to side.
My body, eyes and ears detect each change to the road surface, the tires grinding on the rough, and every bump rumbles through my body.
My nose tells me more about where I am, from the grass seeds blown up by the wind, the recently fertilized market gardens; diesel fumes from trucks and buses; the freshness of the wet forest; factories, cars and other human activities.
Now I’m aware that I can’t talk to anyone; I can’t write anything down. I’m free to notice, observe, and take my mind into special places. I’m solving problems I haven’t had time to think about, planning what I’m going to do later today, tomorrow, the week and months after. Sometimes it’s the careful words I’ve now chosen to communicate a delicate matter to a friend or colleague.
But our ride must come to an end. I’m filled with adrenaline. My mind is charged. My body tired but satisfied. We bask in our solitude; taking a break to watch the sun set, listen to the sound of the ocean, and the waves crashing onto the shoreline.
I realize now that some things are just as they are. Like that life is a journey with unexpected twists and turns that we must skillfully navigate. That day turns to night as night turns to day. That some things we do well at, because we have invested the work to do so. And when we want something badly enough, we can learn how to do that too.