Cruising
It’s sunny outside, you slip on your shades. The mild autumn climate lends a hand to morning starts – no icy carburettors impede the engine’s burst into life with the first push of the ignition button. As the engine warms, you slip on your leather gloves. They are thin and comfortable, and the air isn’t so humid that your hands feel clammy.
Swing a leg over the seat. This doesn’t involve the wing and a prayer lunge that even someone six feet tall has with a big trail bike – the cruiser’s seat is low, the mounting is graceful. The choke goes off, a gentle roll of the throttle makes a pleasant blatting noise while you manoeuvre the front wheel towards the road. Every low speed turn reminds you of the physical stature of the bike. The bike is long, heavy, a veritable oil-tanker of two-wheeled design compared to a sports bike. With a fair amount of paddling, you are facing the street, and ease the revs up and let out the clutch. You notice the same flat spot in the carburettors in first gear that you notice every day by the time the first stop sign comes up. It is of no practical consequence. A few more turns and the you are joining the interstate.
You don’t push the revs, second gear gets you to 40, third gives 55, forth gains you 65 without too much strain from the motor. The wind blast is quite chilling in just a vest and shorts at this speed, and you toy with the idea of sixth gear and perhaps another ten miles per hour. Speed is not of the essence here. A quick scan of the roadside yields no trees from which to deduce any prevailing wind, but you figure that it’s not that chilly in the sunshine and ease up to 70mph and sink into fifth gear. The wind noise is high, and the motor blats away contentedly beneath you. You pass a long coach and hear the reflections of the exhaust from its flank. The closely echoed noise is somewhat more urgent, but as the coach recedes, any trace of urgency is soon forgotten. Traffic is light, and conditions are ideal for cruising.
The next thought you have comes several minutes later. You have been far away in the throbbing and humming. You become aware that you have been taken by the white noise, and quickly check the mirrors and scan the road ahead for danger. You resolve not let your consicousness not float so far, and relax into a state of idle wondering for another ten miles. Thought come and are dipatched, none with any real obligation to explore. Curves are smoothly and agreeable, and you feel yourself smiling.