The Chase

[1bigdawg]

Recently we lost 2 great riders in a fatal accident. They were riding full tilt and loving what they were doing. We often talk about not riding 9/10th or 10/10th on the street yet we find ourselves there doing it anyway. What makes us do it? Why do we take the risk? In control yet out of control. This tragedy inspired me to write the following poem. It is not meant to condone any specific type of riding style.


It is Titled "The Chase"

In front of me stretches the seductive black snake
She taunts me to come dance with her
See my beautiful asphalt path as it winds through the mountains
She lures me to come dance with her
Lets dance again like we danced last time
She seduces me to come dance with her
Remember how good it feels?
The roar of the motorcycle
The feeling of being invincible
The power, control , the rush of adrenaline
She dares me to dance with her
Come race your motorcycle along my twisting pavement
How fast can you go?
How far can you lean over?
Will you get to the end first?
It is as if she is enjoying the ride as much as I am

I only hear her alluring call.... Faster, quicker, harder
So I oblige her.... my bike responds to my every thought
Go left, then right, then left again
Squeeze the tank as we brake hard into the hairpin
Lean over hard and caress the tarmac
See the exit of the corner and twist the throttle hard
The RPM’s climb and the chase is on to the next corner
It is as if she is enjoying the ride as much as I am

I am possessed
She wants me to go quicker, faster, lean harder
So I oblige her.... my concentration intensifies
I see nothing but the seductive black snake ahead of me
I hear only the roar of the motor
I feel only the power of the bike
It is as if I am moving in slow motion
I am intoxicated by my senses
Closer to death, yet more alive than ever before

No longer am I chasing the seductive black snake
The chase is for life
The chase is to cheat death
The chase is over

[john flores]

hey thanks for offering up your poem. if part of your goal was to recreate the sensations and adrenaline of the road, then you did it. Even in cold 20 degree NJ your poem conjures up visions of great roads.

keep the shiny side up,

[hank]

Closer to death, yet more alive than ever before




That's a great line - thanks for the words! :peace:

[Louge]

We got our Christmas tree today. This ornament, as always, will hold a place of honor. I have one more rider to consider this year. My best friend of 25 years rode his RT to uninhabited Pea Island in the Outer Banks and left us by his own hand looking at an Atlantic Ocean sunrise. His chase is over :(

Thanks dawg ... <tears>


http://www.mad-ducati.com/Gallery/lconley/G21/Santa.jpg
In honor of those who won't be home for Christmas.

[RZRob]

Very touching poem. I feel for you and your loss and can really relate to your poem. I always have to remind myself as I dance with the snake not to let it have the last dance.

I like, before our rides, when we take a moment to remind each other to keep our rides incident free and don't let the black snake have the last dance.

Great emotion in your poem. I'm touched by what you wrote.

RZ Rob :peace:

[Ricky J]

Let's all hang a big red ornament on the tree for our dearly departed Big Red...

[ckruzel]

since i ride pretty hard on the street, i could push it a little more, but always in the back of my mind is the what if, so even though i take some some risks, i try to evaluate them and take "safer risks, sometimes it leaves me second or third to a destination, but in the end, i made it to my destination

[farva03R]

big dawg, awesome peom. that really hit home. sadly, i too have lost a two wheeled brother some years ago and your poem brings it back. if your in this sport long enough you'll eventually lose someone. i too use to push it to the limits and sometimes past it on the streets. i was young and dumb and the only thing i wanted to prove was that i was number one in our group. i look back now and for the life of me can not figure out how i'm still here. older and wiser now-to a degree and i'm keeping that kind of riding for the race track. god speed to your brothers on two wheels. like you said -they died doing something they loved. jc

[knfusion24]

Great Poem Big Dawg, sorry about your loss. Sometimes the road wins, it's fact of riding. Until then, have fun riding.

[Jet City Racer]

We have a little plastic bike that is passed from racer to racer when they have a crash that is bad enough to involve surgery. It meant a lot when I was in the hospital and my friends brought me that little "pick me up". When another friend of mine broke his leg (for the second time) I signed and dated the fairing and we all presented it to him.

At last count the bike had 8 signatures! Let's not hope for 9. :)

[ARAIHEAD]

Recently we lost 2 great riders in a fatal accident. They were riding full tilt and loving what they were doing. We often talk about not riding 9/10th or 10/10th on the street yet we find ourselves there doing it anyway. What makes us do it? Why do we take the risk? In control yet out of control. This tragedy inspired me to write the following poem. It is not meant to condone any specific type of riding style.


It is Titled "The Chase"

In front of me stretches the seductive black snake
She taunts me to come dance with her
See my beautiful asphalt path as it winds through the mountains
She lures me to come dance with her
Lets dance again like we danced last time
She seduces me to come dance with her
Remember how good it feels?
The roar of the motorcycle
The feeling of being invincible
The power, control , the rush of adrenaline
She dares me to dance with her
Come race your motorcycle along my twisting pavement
How fast can you go?
How far can you lean over?
Will you get to the end first?
It is as if she is enjoying the ride as much as I am

I only hear her alluring call.... Faster, quicker, harder
So I oblige her.... my bike responds to my every thought
Go left, then right, then left again
Squeeze the tank as we brake hard into the hairpin
Lean over hard and caress the tarmac
See the exit of the corner and twist the throttle hard
The RPM’s climb and the chase is on to the next corner
It is as if she is enjoying the ride as much as I am

I am possessed
She wants me to go quicker, faster, lean harder
So I oblige her.... my concentration intensifies
I see nothing but the seductive black snake ahead of me
I hear only the roar of the motor
I feel only the power of the bike
It is as if I am moving in slow motion
I am intoxicated by my senses
Closer to death, yet more alive than ever before

No longer am I chasing the seductive black snake
The chase is for life
The chase is to cheat death
The chase is over
Sorry about your"our" mates. your words are great.