Endorphins
or claret?
Guido ponders whether your
lifestyle dictates your choice in motorcycles…
For years now
– and I think Harley is mostly to blame for this – we’ve been
assured that buying a motorcycle, particularly a new XYZ1800, will greatly improve
your lifestyle. You’ll feel (if not look) younger, the opposite sex will
find you attractive (well, perhaps more so now, which might not be much of a
challenge), and your usual drab suburban vista will fall away to reveal spectacular
ocean views from a long and windy road that stretches off into the sunset.
Having tested the claims numerous times, I can reveal they have some merit,
but are a little exaggerated. Admittedly it does make me feel younger some days
– but younger than what? Probably the poor sod in the office next to me,
who piloted a Camry to work.
As for attraction to the opposite sex, forget it. Maybe we’ve gone from
0.001 to 0.002 on the desirability scale, but I think it’s going to take
a lot more than a motorcycle – even a very expensive one – to shift
the needle on that particular dial.
Does the scenery change for the better? Well, yes, it often does, but increasingly
there’s some blithering idiot with a speed tax camera getting in the way
and ruining the view.
Instead of the motorcycle hugely changing your lifestyle, I suspect the dynamic
works the other way around: your lifestyle dictates the bike.
For example, a professional associate of mine responded to a divorce and the
beginnings of a mid-life question over his priorities by doing the only sensible
thing – which is buy a big Harley and large quantities of bourbon. Then
he decided to get fit and swapped the Hogley for a Triumph, plus a decent mountain
bike. Now he’s got a bit more dough, while developing a lower tolerance
for the rough and tumble of two wheels (with the treadly being by far the worst
offender), and has decided to opt for a very tasty two-door Benz.
My own experience is considerably less extreme, but I have noticed a creeping
interest in ‘sensible’ motorcycles of late. And I think it’s
been brought on by more endorphins and less claret in the diet. You see I’ve
been riding a bicycle to work lately, which has proved to be thoroughly enjoyable.
As a colleague has pointed out, the modest endorphin rush at the end of each
spin makes you irritatingly cheerful to your workmates, but life can’t
be without its risks.
Of course the need to be able to pedal the thing without having a stroke has
meant I’ve ditched the plans to fit the treadly with an ashtray and have
even shunned proffered glasses of claret on occasion -- just haven’t felt
like it.
By far the most disturbing trend however is that I’ve been secretly thinking
of swapping the current fleet of over-powered monsters for a humble Transalp.
Don’t get me wrong, I have all the time in the world for Honda’s go-anywhere
650 twin and have always given it a glowing report. What’s more, I really
would like one in the shed, particularly given it costs a massive $10,000 less
than the rally bike class leader and is a solid performer.
What’s disturbing is how a bit of much-needed exercise can so radically
change your outlook. By the third glass of plonk, buying a Hayabusa and hotting
it up to well over 200 horsepower seems like the best decision ever (and I’m
still very fond of it). But throw in a mild endorphin rush over a couple of
mornings and the heart has swung 180 degrees for something that comes with a
Captain Sensible cape.
Maybe someone will come up with a claret label that has added endorphins. What
would be the result? A 200hp Transalp?
Guy Allen
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