It’s not just hanging on

Do you ever ride with your windows open?
Maybe you have a sunroof that you like to slide back to let in the wind. Have you ever ridden in a convertible with the top down?
Remember how that makes you feel? You’re a little more awake, enjoying the drive more. You’re part of the journey instead of just being along for the ride.
That’s just the start of what it’s like to ride. It’s everyting you love about riding in a convertible with the breeze in your face, but take away all that extra metal holding you down. Now the wind blows over your hands, your legs, you body. You don’t just pass things by, you experience them with all your senses. I know that at night it’s always a little bit cooler near Arlington Cemetary. The air is fresh and moist along the George Washington Parkway. All day and through the night you can feel the heat radiating up from the asphalt of the beltway and 395.
My bike and my body move together, moving smoothly over the grade of the pavement. I carve in to every turn, leaned at an angle that would have me topple over if it weren’y for the greater force constantly pulling me forward. At this point I’m not steering the bike, I’m leading it as an extension of myself.
I breathe deeply and nothing restrains me. There’s no cluttered dash in front of me, just two needles at the edge of my vision marking speed and RPMs. The radio plays the symphony of a two-cylinder, four-stroke engine and a constant, rushing breeze.
As I straighten out of the turn, I’m already shifting into top gear. I’ve chosen my line and am looking at an open road ahead.