There are two types of motorcyclists: those who believe that there are two types of motorcyclists and those who do not.

So are you still reading? Poor bastard … The saying actually goes rather:

There are two types of motorcyclists: those who have gone down and those who will.

It seems like a fatalistic prospect, especially when uttered by a cyclist. So what makes some people able to ride for years, even decades, while others get off their horses after an interesting experience? Even then, what makes the veteran pilot capable of surviving?

I was inspired to write this article after reading friend, father-in-law, partner and fellow rider Henrek Lalaian’s article, Motorcycle Safety and Survival Guide.

The first problem, whether or not we drive after clearly understanding the risks, is murky and probably very personal. For me, riding is a few things:

• fun
• challenging
• a source of privilege
• life affirmation

The fun should be obvious. This is probably why we carry out most of the activities. I mean, surely Grandma with the crochet needles is having fun. (If I ever crochet, kill me right away, unless of course I’m knitting a biker jacket while splitting lanes on my bike.) But motorcycling is undeniably fun and exhilarating. Not only do you move as in more boring forms of transportation, but you become an active participant in your locomotion. The power-to-weight ratio of even the most humble motorcycle sold in the US is still enough to give many lively cars a serious run and may be the fastest most of us have ever commanded. Fun for sure.

However, if you bought a luxury car because of the commercials showing how well the car insulates you from your surroundings and the entire driving experience, I doubt that motorcycling is for you.

Sorry all tricycle riders, but I’m not sorry you ride a fake motorcycle. That ladies and gentlemen is my move on to the Challenge portion of this article. You see, there is a huge challenge in managing a single (two-wheeler) tracked vehicle. If all you want is to be in the air when you travel, drive a fucking Miata or a used LeBaron convertible. The trike presents a ZERO challenge and must be disqualified as a motorcycle. All the risk (exposure), none of the benefits (nimble, efficient, tight).

Learning how to get the most out of a motorized two-wheeler is an incredibly rewarding experience. You must be prepared to fail. You also need to be prepared that you can’t wipe the chewing bug smile off your face when it starts working for you.

So what kind of privilege is it to ride a motorcycle? It really is about the kind of privilege it brings. In the US, we view bicycles as toys and cyclists as idiots who aren’t even conscious enough to remember to fill out their organ donor cards. But in most other parts of the world, motorcycles are a legitimate transportation and receive certain types of preferential treatment. They get to “filter” in front of an intersection. They can share lanes (a privilege we have here in California). In addition, they can park in places where a single person carrying a full-size SUV cannot.

In exchange for assuming this risk (which reduces congestion, reduces energy consumption, reduces the use of parking lots, etc …) we should have privileges. We should have a higher speed limit of 10-15 mph on the highway (and many of us just take it). We should be allowed (safely, and yes, there are safe ways) to swim through traffic. Ultimately, society can benefit, and we should too. In exchange for assuming the final risk (of life and physical integrity), we should be rewarded for our willingness to do so and the resulting benefits for the collective.

Ultimate Risk brings me to the life affirming part of the agenda. How would you feel after the battle? How would you feel after six battles? How would you feel after six hundred battles? At some point, the ability to negotiate this crazy set of circumstances should remind you that you HAVE successfully negotiated them. This is something that has always energized me. People used to ask me if I was scared. My response was that I felt victorious after each trip. And although I respect the activity, fear has no place in it. Fear is a self-defeating obsession best reserved for bungee jumpers looking for a legal form of Crack.

None of this answers why some people manage to travel for decades and hundreds of thousands of miles, while others, well, they don’t. This is where George Lucas had the only philosophical nugget in Star Wars Episode I. While Qui-Gon is chatting with Anakin’s mother, Shmi (seriously, Shmi?) About young Anakin’s incredible abilities, we are gifted with this little girl. Qui Gon’s jewel:

You can see things before they happen. This is why it seems to have such fast reflexes. It is a Jedi trait.

Anakin is not a fantastic Pod Racer because he is good. You can just see a little into the future. Instead of having to react to events, you are able to ACT. The need for quick reflections is reduced because changing environmental conditions have been anticipated.

So, young Skywalker, you must become a Biker Jedi if you wish to engage in this activity for a period of time. Feel (mainly yourself). Observe (everything!). Profile (driver’s posture, car status, etc.). Get ahead (what are the most likely actions someone can take given the immediate conditions?). Look to the future and ACT. If you are in a position to react, you are behind the game. Get back to the front of the game.