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Old January 18th, 2011, 09:50 AM   #1
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[twistingasphalt.com] - On the Edge of the World



From writers block to riding the edge of the world, what a magnificent weekend.

What a magnificent moment.

‘Channel this, channel this,” he says…

I’ve spent the last three days riding and becoming one with the machine and evoking the best of whatever it is that I am.

Whatever it is that I was meant to be.

Often I wonder what that is, and tonight, I’m not sure how to answer that question any better than before nor am I sure of any of the truth in it. The wonder, the question, the idealism, the thought provoking nature of the machinations. The quest to become more than you are… The quest to betterment.

But this is something else.

And there is such soul to this ride.

The way the bike bites down. The feeling when it’s solid. When the corner comes at you and without thinking about it, you duck down, hammer that throttle, and hit the downshift – with no worry or concern or thinking. No fear for the grip. You just believe.

That nothing – ****ing nothing – will stop you.

And it just happens. Bam. Milliseconds of Nuclear detonations on an asphalt adventure…. The engine hitting its high note – That sublime ‘L-Twin’ bounce in the breath – The way it shrieks like an ugly gal just wanting to be heard… Scaring women and children and people in porsches. The way it just chews through land and mass and the ****ing Sanskrit that came before you.

Oh man… How it works… When it does.

To see the bend in the asphalt coming and to ‘feel it’ and not think it. In January. When it should too cold to ride, to brittle to bite, to little grip to be had – and yet it’s not.

You feel the way the suspension settles and compresses and then expands on the way out. Oh so expands. With big chunks that gash the tarmac – even as you dance around winter’s newest determents. The engine howls away in comfort, asking you to twist a little bit more, to go just a touch faster, to breath a bit better, to believe that anything is possible.

Just ahead you see the dirt and the dust that a wet winter creates and you think to yourself, watch it, the deck is dirty – and yet – And Yet – you advance the throttle. You ask so much more out of the machine. You holler at it. You scream. You dyslexically hit the keyboard trying to utter the words… But there is no better place to be than here, right now, right here, at this very simple moment in time when suddenly a winter’s frustration seems to disappear. To dissolve. Next to the grandest ocean in the world.

And I think to myself, only today – This is sooooo fleeting!

We spend so much time witnessing things we will never remember – how many days go by that we watch and fail to comprehend? Fail to capture? Fail to become one with?

How many days do we really, really, honestly, have the ability to recall?

We have these huge hard drives in our heads and unlimited negative film willing to be exposed and yet we recall such a fraction of it. Such a minuet portion of our lives.

And yet then there are days like this – Days where the passion to exist supersedes the process of aging.

I didn’t get older today, or yesterday, or the day before.

I rode the machine the way it wanted to be ridden – And I got younger.

You think that’s hyperbole? It’s not. I felt it. I believe it. I see it.

And ironically, while I spent my twenties desperately trying to get older – I’m spending my thirties trying to get younger.

Trying to re-teach myself that who we were yesterday is not who we have to be tomorrow.

And how often do we get to truly turn the page?

Tonight, while I can’t say much, I can say that…

This is a new year, and a new moment, and a new beginning – all inside of a total reboot.

What I once saw, I now distance myself from. What I once admired from a far, I now stand next to. Who I was and who I am – are not co-joined at the hip. Not the same. Not stuck in a life I never wanted.

No.

As a society we so often look at the process of change as evil – But what if it’s not?

What if change is the very best virtue of our lives?

What if we were meant to be adaptive? If we were meant to alter our beings all the time? If the machines that run our lives were not predicated on A to B to C? If all of it wasn’t linear?

I stood on the edge of the world today and I didn’t think about what was left behind.

I stood on the edge of the world and wondered…

What comes next? What is it that beckons beyond the reach?

What happens in the new year?










































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