"Journeying solo around the world was more than just riding a motorbike, which whilst being a tremendous undertaking, it required more. Journeying alone around the world necessitated a total commitment to being away from home, and away from family and friends. It also took you away from every conceivable point of reference you had ever learnt. If you also recognised the metaphysical content of such a journey, then you laid down your soul to fate.
I always believed that the really big story of your life is the one where the faintest fabric of your existence is woven into someone else's fairy tale. There is also that brief moment when the bridge of air becomes stone for that person to walk across and touch you. There is also that moment when the stone petrifies to become brittle; it cracks, turns back to air and you fall.
Standing still in silent solitude is the antithesis of what bike riding is all about, yet it is ironic that you need a means of transport to get there, unless you walk. Unfortunately, modern day time frames make walking impracticable. Well, that's kind of an excuse. The not very secret reason for not walking is that no biker likes doing it. It's tiresome, wears out shoes and the scenery moves by far too slowly.
People who dress in one piece leather outfits on a bike that looks like mine don't pass by these parts very often, and if they do they don't stop long. You could tell. The fantastic image kept you completely safe. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but in human life it creates a bond. People are essentially good and just need you to give them a sprig of of honesty for them to relax.
There was no sound from the engine now and I became aware of how quiet this journey could be. Serenity comes in small moments of contemplation. Everyone needs to go where they will not be disturbed, yet by simply being, they were already there. It is the great irony of rides like this that the engine both takes you to and separates you from that quiet place of reason."
From The Loneliness of the Long Distance Biker, by Nick Sanders