Bike withdrawal blows.

There are many things to which logic and reason can be applied.  There are problems, however, which logic and reason are inadequate to overcome.  Addictions, compulsive behavior, mental illness.  You can add to that list:  “Bike Withdrawal.”

Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that BW is a combination of the above.  Hmm.

Springtime is hell on a guy like me.  The weather is gorgeous:  not too hot, not too cold.  Everything is coming alive after a long winter, and the smell of flowering plants and trees and even new-cut grass is intoxicating.  It’s the kind of time when one might want to just be out and in amongst everything.  In other words, it’s the exact time when you’d want to be out exploring and enjoying as much of the countryside as possible.  And let me tell you, folks, there’s no comparing a Sunday drive to a Sunday motorcycle ride when it comes to feeling out and in amongst the land.  To feeling like you’re a part of it.  To feel as though, like the land, you’re coming alive.

I was walking back from the pool just a little while ago, feeling exhausted.  Every time I take this walk, I pass by one of the university’s tiny motorcycle parking lots – the one where I used to park my bike when I rode to work.  Every time, I get at the very least a spark of jealousy.  Lately it’s been more than just a little spark.  Not only is there a motorcycle there that’s the same make and model as mine (even the same color, just a different model year), but there’s one of the motorcycles that I lust for:  a yellow Ducati Monster like this one (except yellow with a grey frame).  I’ve loved Monsters for ages.  Simple yet gorgeous.  Mmm.  Walking by it without drooling is difficult.

Today, though, there was an added torment.  A guy rode by me and parked in the lot on a Moto Guzzi Breva.  I’ve never been a huge fan of Guzzis, but this one sounded beautiful and looked like a nice, comfortable naked bike.  Here’s what I thought when he went by:

“What’s that sound?  MOTORCYCLE! *turning around*  Whatzat?  Moto Guzzi, very nice.  Mmm, love the sound of a V-twin, I don’t care how you turn it.  Hey, he’s wearing a nice Vanson jacket, too.  Glad to see some non-squid around here.  I should slow up so I don’t pass him before he’s gone, ask him about the bike, compliment him on the jacket…”

What did I do?

I sped up so I wouldn’t have to talk to him.

Why?

Because I figured I’d come off like a typical slobbering no-bike-havin’ bike-fanatic.  And while I know I’m pathetic, I’d just as soon not have somebody look at me and take pity on me for it.

As it is, I sometimes get downright grumpy about the fact that I don’t have another bike.  I think most folks would, if they had to give up something that they dearly loved and that brought a lot of joy into their life.  But most folks who, say, give up knitting, don’t have to regularly watch dumb fucks fly past with their significant-other-du-jour on the back of their knitting needles, no shirt, no shoes, and no helmet, knitting like an asshole and generally endangering and/or pissing off everyone in a thousand-yard radius and have to think “How come a shithead like that can have knitting needles, and a good guy like me can’t?  How come the best years of my life are spent wishing and waiting?”

Well, some people are more willing to go into stupendous depths of debt than others, I guess.  And some people don’t have terrified relatives and spouses.  But as I said in the beginning, that’s logic.  And logic, generally speaking, has jack and shit to do with riding motorcycles.

It’s enough to drive a poor bike-withdrawal sufferer to drink, I tell ya.

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3 Responses

  1. Awww… one of these days you’ll get another bike. And when you do, I’m coming to visit just to ride with ya! 😀

    Yer on, lady!

  2. I didn’t even know that I could experience bike withdrawl when I’ve never had one.

    Some of the symptoms are the same, but believe it or not, it gets worse once you have one and lose it. Or, more accurately, wad it up.

    Seriously, I used to crave it before I had a bike, but it sucks a lot more now that I know what I’m missing.

  3. I had to give up my very first bike when I got laid off a few years ago. Making payments isn’t so much fun when you’re out of work. I’ve been missing it ever since. Sometimes I even feel that I’m forgetting how to ride. I was just getting really good on it, too.

    Oh, yeah, that completely sucks. I feel like that too – God only knows how rusty I’ll be next time I climb on board.

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