Sometimes that really is just a wrench in your pocket, while other times it is not. Embrace either situation. — But only one literally, if you happen to be in public, or around small children.

When you find yourself heading into a spill, the proper thing to do is relax and trust your leather. At worst, you experience a surrender of the ego; at best, you move to a new realm of consciousness, becoming one with the road — or, if things don’t go exactly as planned, with about a half-dozen giant tires on a trailing semi. Which is almost as liberating.*

On the road of life, those who laugh gratuitously swallow the most bugs.

The bike with the biggest seat carries the most riders; but the bike with the best seat worries first about only one.

The wise rider would rather a road close forever than see it made into a parking lot.

The Joy you feel having the chrome on your exhaust pipe expertly polished on the cheap is inversely proportional to the Pain you’ll experience a week or so later, particularly should it turn out you opted for the $10 express service from a technician named “Kandi” whom you happened upon while cruising West Colfax between midnight and 3 AM, looking for an open Taco Bell drive-thru. On this, you really

Those wishing to assert themselves in life’s fast lane without fear that an occasional fierce wind gust might muss their locks would be well advised to don a hairnet and a custom-fitted helmet—both of which are readily available from fine retailers in either of the two Americas.

To apply the brakes convincingly, one must, in one’s own mind, be firmly committed to the idea of stopping.  Otherwise, all one is doing is squeezing levers while pretending to respect the immutable laws of physics—a state of being that oftentimes will manifest itself in loud and twisted wreckage.

To really push forward on the road of life, one must sometimes “brave the wheelie.” Unless, of course, one has a tender prostate—in which case, one should probably just consider shelling out the extra bucks for a bigger engine, and a banana seat fashioned out of inflatable rubber donuts or some such.

If a 2006 BMW K 1200 LT revs in the forest, and there’s no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?  Well, sure.  Until it runs out of gas and sputters to an ignominious stop.  At which point we can all point and laugh at the arrogance of the Germans.