I've just arrived back from a spin out on the bike, a Triumph Street Triple. I used a tankful of fuel and can hardly remember where I went. Perfect.
Motorcycles carry the spirit and enliven the soul in a way that cars can never do. I've ridden only a handful of bikes in my life but have driven several hundred cars and no car ever came near any bike. Sure, cars can be epic, uplifting and invigorating but step on a motorcycle and the experience is multiplied several times over.
Lemmy got it right when he wrote Iron Horse/Born To Lose. It's written for and about Tramp, leader of the Hell's Angels in Britain in the 70s. Bizarrely enough Lemmy isn't a biker.
Iron Horse/Born To Lose
He rides a road, that don't have no end
An open highway, that don't have no bends
Tramp and his stallion, alone in a dream
Proud in his colours, as the chromium gleams
On Iron Horse he flies, on Iron Horse he gladly dies
Iron Horse his wife, Iron Horse his life
He rides the roads, he lives his life fast
Don't try to hide, when the dice have been cast
He rides a whirlwind, that cuts to the bone
Wasted forever, and ferociously stoned
On Iron Horse he flies, on Iron Horse he gladly dies
Iron Horse his wife, Iron Horse his life
One day one day, they'll go for the sun
Together they'll fly, on the eternal run
Wasted forever, on speed bikes and booze
Yeah Tramp and the brothers, say they're all born to lose
On Iron Horse he flies, on Iron Horse he gladly dies
Iron Horse his wife, Iron Horse his life
