Experiences

When you get older, you realize experiences are more important than objects. Experiences are something unique that happened to you once and will never recur. Objects are mere trinkets, usually fungible and subject to decay -- unlike memories of key experiences which stay with us for life.

I'm not as smart as I appear but I'm capable of growth. When truth stares me in the face, I look at it and learn from it. Here's an example.

I'd be lying if I didn't admit I selected my new motorcycle for its looks. The Janus Halcyon's rare, distinctive retro-style attracts public attention like a strong magnet. That aspect of the bike is certainly attractive to me. But I'm learning, separate from that, that the experience actually riding the bike is also immensely pleasurable -- and vastly different from what my other motorcycles offer. 

The Halcyon model uses design from the 1920s, back before motorcycles became aerodynamically engineered machines capable of high speed. They were more similar to bicycles than automobiles with simple addition of a motor. Traveling at 30-60 mph was their goal. The geometry of motorcycles a century ago wasn't as advanced as it is today with machines taking sophisticated cues from racing sportbikes.

This translates to a dramatically different, instantly noticeable experience when riding. The bike handles different, feels different and runs different. Everything about it differs from what I'm used to. In fact, I'd say these bikes really should be operated only by riders with advanced skills; beginners will quickly get into trouble on them. When I ride the Janus, it requires me to deploy my highest riding skills, like intuitive control of the throttle and clutch, unconscious use of the rear brake, and careful balance in turns. Without these skills you'll certainly end up in a ditch on the side of the road. Unlike modern motorcycles, the bike's design and primitive technology doesn't do a lot of the handling work for you. No ABS, no traction control, etc.

At the same time, riding the Janus feels like time-traveling to an ancient era when motorcyclists sat upright, felt the wind hit them directly in the chest, wrestled with natural forces and developed pioneering riding-skills to stay alive. On the bike I feel like a rural postal-carrier scooting long distances in the Midwest a century ago, only occasionally seeing another vehicle on the road. Without today's cocoon of protection from the environment, I get off the bike with bug-splatter on my face-shield and jacket and unexpected physical exhaustion in my upper-body. 

Yesterday's riding-experience is totally unlike today's and the contrast is delightful to taste. I find riding the Janus more interesting and fun than riding my modern bikes -- and its palpable hardships enhance that feeling. Sometimes "better" is not preferable. I've traveled to the past and enjoy being there.