Over the years I’ve had occasion to drive an acquaintance’s car or truck for some reason or another, and every time I could somehow ‘feel’ the personality of that vehicle reflecting that of the owner. The smell, the stuff on the dashboard, the wear patterns on the controls, the way the windows roll up or down, if at all, the trinkets hanging on the mirror, and of course the condition. Maybe the outside was nearly perfect but the inside was a mess, or maybe vice versa. But aside the obvious, some had that definite ‘feel’, that was just spot on to its owner. Couldn’t put my finger on that, but it’s no eerie coincidence. It’s real.
I suspect motorcycles can impart that same feeling too. The other day a well used cruiser took me for a ride, everything stock, no add ons, and I could just tell; the owner of this bike had a ‘balls to the wall’, maybe even careless personality, guaranteed. This bike was loose, & wasn’t satisfied unless it was under heavy acceleration or heavy braking. It wanted to GO, right now, and when turned it just leaned itself way over like that was where it was supposed to be, and all these things it did right by itself. I was just a passenger. If you wanted to GO, it would GO, but if you wanted to baby it, it would just sit down n’ die. On closer look, it had a thousand proud little battles and apparently won them all without major surgery. It may not have been the leader of the pack, but by damn it was going to try to be. I liked this bike, but we probably wouldn’t get along very long. A long time ago maybe we’d have been good buddies, but not now.
Funny how a hunk of steel can have a soul and talk to you.
I suspect motorcycles can impart that same feeling too. The other day a well used cruiser took me for a ride, everything stock, no add ons, and I could just tell; the owner of this bike had a ‘balls to the wall’, maybe even careless personality, guaranteed. This bike was loose, & wasn’t satisfied unless it was under heavy acceleration or heavy braking. It wanted to GO, right now, and when turned it just leaned itself way over like that was where it was supposed to be, and all these things it did right by itself. I was just a passenger. If you wanted to GO, it would GO, but if you wanted to baby it, it would just sit down n’ die. On closer look, it had a thousand proud little battles and apparently won them all without major surgery. It may not have been the leader of the pack, but by damn it was going to try to be. I liked this bike, but we probably wouldn’t get along very long. A long time ago maybe we’d have been good buddies, but not now.
Funny how a hunk of steel can have a soul and talk to you.
