My first time was on the Mecaglisse track. There's sort of a little back stretch where the race line hits a bunch of tree that decided to grow over the track. Since nobody seem to contradict them, they take their place. After that little curvy stretch with vegetation reaching out on the right is a smooth left curve leading to the back stretch. The only stretch, if we can call it that, on the little school track.
So after saying hello
to the trees, we smoothly go left to that little candy stretch. One
fun thing about that left turn is the vibrators at the apex. Ok, they're not called that, but I only have the french word "vibreurs" in mind and can't think of the English name. But that image isn't very far. They physically remind you that you've taken enough track, so you're doing it right, but you shouldn't go any further. Enjoy it right there. Or else things will get less pleasurable.
If we come in fast enough, and take that left hard enough, it's possible
to get our knee seriously contradicted on it's way down. Expecting
smooth asphalt and being greeted with that harsh on and off surface
can be a strong surprise. I stopped taking my left knee out on the turn and eventually started just clinging to the bike like a tree I don't want to fall down of because of the protection it offers from the harsh environment. A tree with great tires and suspension to interface the world below and keep me safe and comfortable.
So anyway, going from little stretch to little stretch is the time to pin the throttle
down. That lets the beast breath fully. I won't go into details
now, but the throttle's only function is to choke the engine and starve it of it's life oxygen while the rider feels it shouldn't breath too freely.
For many people, bike riders and car drivers alike, that's 100% of always since they don't want to know what their engine does when it's free of tight breathing
restriction. And that's a shame that will require another post to discuss.
My first time was going into that 2nd little stretch with the throttle pinned
open. On my baby, a CBR1000rr I never baptized that still wore it's red street fairings like a fashion statement, the intake is right under the gas tank. The tank kinda expand down both sides, getting that liquid energy as low as possible down the sides of the bike. That's fine Japanese engineering for a low center of gravity and a better handling bike. But the
top center is where the engine takes it's air. And that's where the
machine yells when having an orgasm. That sound is worth
gold. That inspiration, tinted with the smooth frequency of the
engine's intake valves opening and closing at high RPM, is an
expression of pure pleasure. I can almost reproduce it by yelling on an in breath instead of and out breath. But not quite, and not with that true orgasmic intensity. That sound is what you make when you're free and express yourself without any restriction. A machine doing what's
she's meant to do, what she was built to do, fulfilling her destiny, truly being. Being the instrument to it's loudly expressed pleasure sent shivers through my whole body and gave me the smile of a lifetime.
That was my 1sttime, and the most intense one. Some say we always remember our
first time... that sure is true of my first mechanical orgasm. I
will forever cherish that sound of fulfillment, of expressing yourself
by doing what you were meant to do, of living live unencumbered of
all those rules and situations and thoughts that drag you down like a
closed throttle. Like all those obstacles that get you to close down because you don't trust that you can get through at full
speed. Those obstacles that get me to climb in my head and start
looping thoughts instead of breathing full speed ahead. Those obstacles are part of life, of course, but they're meant to get us to maneuver through, teaching us something. How to handle that turn, that pothole, or that damn car with red and blue lights flashing all over that just doesn't want to leave me alone. Or that back pain, or that insulin needle. And it's OK. Remember though, that's it's a learning experience. And that we're meant to open up the throttle right after. And go on, living orgasmically full speed ahead, not devoting our energy looking out for that next obstacle coming our way or looking back at those things we just passed. Looking forward, clear minded, and heading there full throttle.
How fast can we assimilate those situations, if we can at all? Can we just register them and go on or do we have to slow down to chew? Either way's fine, of course. As long as we remember that we're not ruminants, that we're meant to digest and get back to on full throttle, not to store those experiences for coming back to avoiding them all the time. We can sometimes feel that they shouldn't be lived. That we should just push them back, deeper, and forget about them. But like undigested meat, repressed baggage just doesn't get nicer or more digestible, it just takes space and, with time, clogs the exhaust and fogs the visor, poisoning the whole machine. Slowing us down, and by ridding us of the clear sight of what's ahead, keeping us in fear of the future. I'm guilty, of course, or I wouldn't know...
Living is great, sharing life is extraordinary, and being there when someone breaks
through the million obstacles and opens up to life is the most
rewarding thing I ever lived. Someone once called me to share that
experience; I will cherish that memory forever. We can't really help or heal someone, but being there when they do, and maybe feeling that you took their hand when they reached out and gave them the support they needed to go on, is like witnessing an amazing sunrise and knowing that everything can be all right. That it's all worth it, no matter the cost. I will cherish that memory forever and die happier for it.
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it