If you’ve ever experienced that miserable ride, when you’ve been going all day in the pouring rain, your waterlogged leathers are the consistency of pork sausages and you don’t think you’ll ever reach your destination…. Sketching out her ride, adding extra details with a flourish, in a few sentences she captures the essence of motorcycling.įor anyone who has ever ridden a motorcycle, picking up the book will strike a chord. Just going for a ride with Pierson–to Laconia, New Hampshire, for the annual races, to the bayous of the Deep South, or through the cobbled stones of ancient Italian towns is entrancing. But ought one really to draw a conclusion from this? Should one expose oneself the less to danger and to chance? A life spent in constant anxiety over losing it would be no life at all.” When I did see the book–you can’t miss it, it’s got a picture of a Moto Guzzi V-8 on the cover–I was quite prepared to give it a wide berth, after reading on page one: “There are only two kinds of bikers: those that have been down and those that are going down.” What has that crashing cliche, grammatical errors and all, to do with the attraction of motorcycles? Pierson quotes deep sea diver Hans Hass, “I became very conscious of how anyone who defies danger in any form is at the mercy of chance.
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