Ten years ago I declared my heartache because I had to retire my beloved Kawasaki Eliminator ZL750 (“Sayonara, Two-Wheeled Friend”). I wrote a few whimsical haikus in her honor. Since then, I have driven scooters and sporadically rented motorcycles.
Nothing has measured up to that bike since.
Until now.
Yes, dear reader(s), the Bitch is Back. I bought a used 1986 Kawasaki Eliminator ZL600 a few months ago and got her certified. I did a bit of work myself to quiet the exhaust noise. Also completed a few short shakedown drives to make sure she was roadworthy. I definitely needed to re-train my two-wheeled road skills on the back roads of Nashville.
Why buy a 32-year-old motorcycle? The machine was in good shape, only 26K miles, and reasonably priced. I am not planning a long trip on my new/old Kawi; this is just for puttering around on weekends when I have ‘me’ time. More importantly, why not buy it? I love riding motorcycles; this is one indulgence that doesn’t break the bank. It’s also good for my soul.
Despite two attempts, I never did finish "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," the purported scripture for bike lovers. Riding motorbikes (or their distant cousin, scooters) requires concentration to avoid traffic mishaps. Constant monitoring of the cars around you—potential hazards, speed, road condition—becomes a state of mind that empties your brain of the unnecessary. On a good day, you are totally in the moment. On two wheels, I find my version of Zen.
Plus, it’s exciting. Motorcycle touring is the ultimate way to see the sights of the world and experience them with all your senses and full attention. I sincerely believe this deepens my connection to the world and people around me.
Socially, it’s liberating. People tint their car windows to have mobility yet still keep privacy. Roofs and windows hold the weather at bay. Music, radio or videos for passengers assure everyone is distracted.
Not so with bikes. While riding, I often find myself singing songs to myself. I think about things and make acronyms of these random items so that I can write them down later during a rest stop. You lose your vanity because your clothes get grimy. Helmet head hair is always a threat. You accept when it's hot or cold or raining or windy.
For these reasons, and many more, I just can’t stop my motorcycle riding. Now, with my ZL600, I don’t have to.
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| Old Faithful: Kawasaki ZL750 |
Until now.
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| What's old is new (to me) |
Despite two attempts, I never did finish "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," the purported scripture for bike lovers. Riding motorbikes (or their distant cousin, scooters) requires concentration to avoid traffic mishaps. Constant monitoring of the cars around you—potential hazards, speed, road condition—becomes a state of mind that empties your brain of the unnecessary. On a good day, you are totally in the moment. On two wheels, I find my version of Zen.
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| In Shikoku, Japan, riding with da boyz |
Socially, it’s liberating. People tint their car windows to have mobility yet still keep privacy. Roofs and windows hold the weather at bay. Music, radio or videos for passengers assure everyone is distracted.
 |
| At the Arctic Circle marker on the Dalton Highway to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska, August 2006 |
For these reasons, and many more, I just can’t stop my motorcycle riding. Now, with my ZL600, I don’t have to.
1 comment:
When I drive 90 it's not scary, ciz I've got the Vurgin Mary...Glad to see you back in the saddle and very hands in. On guess there is a YouTube video for everything. ZL... Zaney Looney! Rude in!
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