The first 3 lessons motorcycling taught me about life

I’ve learned a lot about motorcycling over the years. I learned how to ride, and how to do basic mechanical maintenance. I learned about horsepower and torque and camshafts and engine configurations and tire choices and gear choices, and a million other details that creep into your brain as a result of this hobby.

But what motorcycling really taught me about was me.

First, motorcycling taught me to be 100% present at all times. There is no room for sleep-riding. My friend Jim told me about a moment when he was riding in Europe, and after a mesmerizing several hours of twists and turns, he went into auto-pilot mode. As a result, he took a turn too wide, ended up in the opposing traffic lane, and scared himself back to consciousness.

In life as in motorcycling, you have to concentrate. You have to assess every risk, and be aware of your surroundings. You have to actually show up. You can’t just phone it in.

Second, motorcycling taught me to use all 5 senses. The sights, smells, sounds of the road, the taste of rain on your lips when your visor is cracked open a quarter inch to stop it from fogging in the rain, the feel of twisting the throttle, or squeezing a brake lever, the patter of washboard pavement under your pegs as you stand up and feel an 80 km/hour wind pushing against your chest.

The more you notice every single thing around you, the more immersive and amazing the experience. Savour life.

Third, motorcycling has tried to teach me to be patient. This one I have trouble with. I was born in downtown Toronto, so I’m a fast walker, and I am prone to “sidewalk rage”. Like: “What the hell are you doing walking so slowly? Don’t you know this is the passing lane?!” I have to admit that I have not internalized this lesson very well. But I’m trying.

Motorcycling is a journey inside yourself.