Yeah, so I just got my bike back on the road, after a really odd winter up here in Canada. Seeing as though we didn't get alot of snow, I felt I was being robbed of some good riding time.      It seems as though that whenever I turn around and put my girl away for the winter, I get depressed. Maybe it's post-partum depression or something, but I always feel bad for leaving my bike for someone else to take of for the winter, and, as well, paying the insurance and loan payments, while not even being able to enjoy what I'm paying for. Oh sure, I don't have a regular driver's licence, so when the bike goes away, so does my mobility. Maybe that has something to do with it. Last year was worse than this year, but in a different way. Last year, I enjoyed my brand new bike for 5 months before putting her away. I was caught walking around my apartment with my full riding gear on more than once. (Don't worry, this is normal; honestly) I knew I felt that something was missing from my life, but I knew that it was because of the bike. This year was a little different, though.      This year I still walked around in full gear, but this time, I was dreaming of that perfect corner...the one that you take at 120 km/h, peg scraping the whole way, while passing the sign that reads,"Slow to 50 km/h." And while in that corner, you know no Boys in Blue are lurking around that next s-curve, while holding the line about a foot away from the yellow line. I am one with the bike; merely thinking of steering inputs, and the bike willingly knowing to do it without any fuss. You hit that next curve of the s-curve and again, everything seems just right. No gravel, potholes, grease, animals, (Like the occasional Kamakaze bird) or traffic. No intersections for the dreaded left hand turner (More bikers are killed each year by motorists turning left, and not seeing the biker). The air is crisp, clean, and has the aroma of freedom. It is late afternoon, and the sun is coming down. The temperature is about 25 degrees....perfect. Sunny, just a few clouds. The Zen-like feel is like nothing else...no email to reply to, no messages on the answering machine to return, noone nagging that the deadline for some apparently important project is looming. Just you, your trusty steed, the open road, and fresh air.      And then, the enevitable happens..."John, what the hell are you doing?" Coming from my (Very) drunk roommate. He wants to get a bike, but has a job that is barely keeping him alive, let alone getting himself his dream bike, a Honda VTX 1800, priced at 18 grand. "I was just remembering a certain curve I wished I experienced last year," I say.      "Huh?"      "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."      Those of us lucky enough to own a bike know what I'm talking about. Whether you own the latest crotch rocket, or the most badass cruiser, or whatever it is you own, I'm sure you know what it feels like to be one with the bike. Maybe that is why I get so depressed.      But when I called up the place where I had my baby stored for the winter, and told them to have her ready in two weeks, all of a sudden, I felt like I was on top of the world.      Maybe it is true...riding is a way of life. It turns an otherwise normaly adjusted person into a living, breathing thrill seeker. Even if you ride a Gold Wing, the knowledge that other people look at you with respect/fear/envy is a great feeling. Oh sure, you can have your air conditioning, sun roof, and bucket seats. Take 'em, I don't want 'em. And having music while going on that long ride is nice, but so is time to think about whatever you want to.      I think I just have to move to somewhere where it never snows. Like British Columbia. (Not the Southern States, where many of them don't require helmet laws: idiots.)      Hopefully this year, I'll get that perfect corner...and everyone knows there is only one way to find out.      I don't know, maybe you can help me out with this depression thing...email me with thoughts/comments on this if you feel the same way when you put your bike or high performance car away for the winter.                                                               Email me        Choosing The Right Bike                                                 Homepage

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