Last weekend I went through 6 hour rain storm in Wisconsin and Minnesota, rode through the hail in Iowa and Nebraska, navigated slippery and wet roads of Rockies, got blown around by 60mph winds in Utah, baked under 116 degree sun in Nevada and battled through typical SoCal traffic.
No, I wasn’t participating in some reality show about surviving or adrenalin rush. I simply bought new motorcycle and rode it home. Sure, I could’ve found exactly the same bike for less money in my area but I couldn’t do it the simple way. I needed adventure. And I got way more than I bargained for. At some point of my trip I tried to rationalize my decision to ride 2000 miles and couldn’t find the answer. What moves me? Will this ever stop? I think motorcycling is a form of drug that has no cure. Or maybe it’s not even about bikes?