I call my bike Cruiser. Keep in mind that my definition of cruising does not involve repeatedly traveling the same 14 blocks of road with the adolescents of the community.
That begs elaboration. . . .
A Cruise (capitalized out of respect) is an escape. It can be 30 minutes or 30 days and absolutely, positively, requires no destination. It is an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and commune with a well-tuned mass of metallic kinetic energy and perhaps a beloved warm body as well. A Cruise is an expression of independence, staking everything on the durability of the machine and quality of your wits. It’s a quest for adventure, daring fate to put something interesting around the next bend. A Cruise is never boring; it’s a raw undiluted experience with no roof, no airbag, and no climate control. A Cruise is isolation, without visiting a deserted island. It’s meditation, with the drone of the motor serving as a mantra. It gives us the energy to endure our day-to-day lives . . . until the next Cruise . . .
This was originally posted to the Harley Digest sometime in 1997.