A Better Way to Fall

For whatever reason, last night at a church gathering, several of my brothers and sisters in the Lord independently asked me why I ride a motorcycle and why I'm so fanatical about it. Given half a chance, I'll expound ad nauseum on the joys of riding. But last night I simply replied... "It's fun!"

Quite unintentionally, the limits of "fun" were challenged this morning on my commute into the office. Two things are constant threats to the urban motorcyclist: 1) a vehicle crossing immeditately into your path (statistically most often a left turn), and 2) slippery, slimy stuff on the road. It was the latter that took some of the "fun" out of today's otherwise delightful commute.

Riders are trained (either by experience or formal motorcycle education -- I highly recommend both) to constantly be on the lookout for both intrusive vehicles and road "snot." An intruding vehicle typically "cues" its potentially fatal move many ways, i.e. the drivers eyes, head tilt, inattention due to cell phone usage, the angle of the front wheels, slowly rolling forward, etc. are all clues a driver may cut us off. (Yes, a motorcyclist can see your eyes better than you can see theirs).

The other road peril is usually evident by a change in the appearance of the road surface... a sheen, a reflection, a change in color, etc. are all potential indicators something slippery may loom ahead. There are occasions however, when the slip is altogether illusive and hidden. Such was the case this morning... no warning!

Making a slightly aggressive left hand turn, as I struck the apex of the turn, without notice the back tire instantly gave way and I began a rear wheel slide that would have made a MotoGP racer proud. I've never slid that far on a street bike and still kept it upright. Adrenaline was flowing, heart pounding as I wondered if I would pull this one out. (Time almost stands still when riding through one of these moments -- that alone is fascinating to me). I realized one more tick of the throttle and I would have been picking myself up off the middle of Jupiter Rd. Was that "fun?" Not at the moment, but now in retrospect... it was pretty cool! (The longer I ride, the more I think one has to be a little "crazy" to do it... but, the "fun" still outweighs the "risk.").

Here's the point: when riders ride, they are always looking out for the fall. In fact, there is an adage in motorcycling that goes, "Don't dress for the ride, dress for the fall." Morbid? No, I don't think so. Rather, I believe it is a realistic understanding of the risk and being as responsible to that risk as the rider is willing to be.

On our spiritual journey, there are countless perils that may bring us down. We can get cut off by the big heavy intrusion that threatens to cut in front of our path and present our certain doom. Generally speaking, on these occasions we can see caution indicators and have fair warning of the immediate danger. However, we can choose to keep riding, become increasingly indifferent about the warning signs and soon find ourselves "T-boned" and in a spiritual hospital bed or worse. I've been there and know what that recovery curve looks like. It is a long hard road back to health. If you see the signs, heed the caution.

Then there is the slippery stuff that we might not even see coming that will spin us out before we really know what happened. We may not even know much about what it is, but all of a sudden we feel the whole thing coming apart in an instant. One more tick of the throttle and we may find ourselves coming to an abrupt halt and feeling the pain of impact.

Our spiritual journey is something of an adventure and there is some risk and we will fall at times. If we exercise wisdom and don't ignore the available warning signs, there are incredible rewards that far, far outweigh the risks. Staying alert and keeping our eyes on the One who illuminates the path (Ps. 119:105) will ensure a better way to fall.

Ride safely...