[ I wrote this last year, a month or so after getting my motorcycle, a Suzuki Hayabusa.  Nothing deep or illuminating here, only a small window into my life.]

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Holy Revolving Tachometer, Batman.

I've been practicing. I respect the bike, and know my own penchant for rushing bravely (foolishly?) where angels fear to tread.

But really, I have tried to limit my variables. I don't push the envelope on all the edges at once. For instance, if I'm going really fast, it will be on a clear open road with good visibility and no traffic.

The one thing that still amazes me is the power.

I'm in 3rd gear at 50 MPH, which means Vlad is just coming into his powerband, turning 4000 rpm. He redlines at 11k. I twist the throttle and 3.5 to 4 seconds later...

 ( it's hard to tell exactly because I don't have time for a stopwatch, and as we all know, Einstein's General Theory of Relativity states that as an object accellerates, time from the object's perspective will slow down.)

...anyway, 3.5 to four seconds later I'm passing 10k RPMs and 125 MPH.

...and only now am I about to shift out of 3rd gear.

THAT my friends, is a rush. If you like adrenalin, and you have the means, I highly recommend it. But if you do, I'd suggest you slide up under the windscreen or that front tire will want to fly.

When coherent thought catches up to me, I always smile. No matter what demons have been chasing me, I've left them behind at least for a moment.