Giving birth...

I often have these existential crises. I got to thinking last night as I was laying in bed after another beautiful 400 mile day. The sun was out. The roads were beautiful. We used every bit of our tires. It was THAT kind of day.

I got to thinking. If i remember correctly, my motorcycle, a 2006 Suzuki GSX-R 600, was assembled in a plant in Hamamatsu, Japan. Given that thousands of bikes just like it were built that year, it's fair to think that dozens of them rolled down that assembly line that day. It was built by robots and people, and the people working that line...did they ever consider what they were building? A motorcycle. I wonder if any of the workers whose hands touched my machine ever pondered where it would end up.

To them, it was likely just another motorcycle. A collection of parts, one of an endless line of them that rolled by, one after another, as they took a moment to fit the swingarm, or tighten the pegs on... could any of them imagine the future in store for THIS machine? That it would be bought new by a man half a world away, and used to fly and frollick over stretches of pavement that they would probably never see? That it would be dropped, hit by a car, lose the plastic cladding around it, and still be seen as an irrevocable part of who that person was? That it would be cared for with that man's own two hands as much as possible, parts repaired and replaced whenever needed without a second thought, no matter how hard that man had to work to afford it? That it would bring such joy, and peace, and fellowship to his life? I wonder if they ever took a moment to ponder the passion, the LOVE they were building? That they weren't just building a mechanical contrivance meant to move a person, but a unique piece of art with the power to move the soul?


The ability to go out and ride, to focus the body and mind, and center the soul, has probably helped me maintain my sanity through many hard times. I would give up, and have given up, many things that people take for granted, for the privilege.

To the people of Hamamatsu, Japan, working in the Suzuki Factory, thank you for your work. Thank you for tightening those bolts. Thank you for adjusting those linkages. Thank you for the part you have played in saving my soul. It is far more than a machine you make. It is a means of living far outside the sheltered, fearful existence of so many.

To the people everywhere who design and build motorcycles of any kind, thank you. Everyone here has one thing in common; a passion for the experience that YOU provide us with.