Oh the things I’ve seen

Commuting on a motorcycle is an interesting endeavor. The focus required to navigate through traffic allows me an insight into driving behavior that I was never aware of when I commuted in my car. It’s fascinating the way the mind and body come together in what amounts to a constant life or death scenario. Mentally processing the landscape, the curve of the road and the surface condition is a considerable challenge; yet when you add the skills required to process other vehicles passing through the same environment at slightly slower (or slightly faster speeds) it becomes a bit like a scene from The Matrix.

What I mean is, at 70 miles per hour you’re seeing the road and landscape at just that, 70 miles per hour. Yet, when you pass another car traveling in the same direction at, say, 60 mph you’re actually passing it at 10 miles per hour relatively. When compared to the speed of your stationary surroundings it’s like traveling in slow motion.

I’ve seen people doing the obvious: eating, applying makeup, talking on a cell phone; but I’ve also seen strange things, disturbing things. I saw a man reach to the backseat to beat a dog, I’ve seen people reading newspapers and spiral bound notebooks, I’ve seen a woman lean over to her passenger seat and pull out an ear of corn from a bag and take a bite (her head literally disappeared from view for a second). I’ve seen drivers reading directions while their passengers sat idly by doing nothing.

I’ve also been tailgated at 80 mph on the Pennsylvania turnpike by a mother in a minivan with toddlers in the backseat, I’ve had apples thrown at me and I’ve been honked at because an approaching car had a turn signal on and I refused to trust it and pull out into harms way. I’ve had people mount a median, nearly taking my bags off my bike to get to a turning lane a few seconds earlier. I’ve been honked at because I delay entering an intersection after the light turns green for a heartbeat or two. Last, but certainly not least, about a half mile from my house I saw police pullover a man on a motorcycle who had a baby, yes a baby, sitting in front of him.

It is a crazy thing commuting on a motorcycle and I’m not sure why I love it. I think it’s my bit of adventure in a world that loves conformity, where the beige SUV is “de rigueur” and where everyone feels the need to tell me why they don’t ride a motorcycle. It’s also most likely the reason motorcyclists in general, and specifically commuting cyclists feel such a kinship and protection for each other. It’s a paradox to be sure but life can sure slow down at 70 miles per hour.

Ride safe.