Up past 90mph something magical happens. The best way to describe it is that my mind starts operating quicker. Like bullet-time in the movies. To the point that after a few minutes of riding 90+mph going slower feels exaggerated; going 50mph through a curve suddenly feels like going 20mph. Its like a drug too, the amount of focus I get, the widening of my perceptions, and the ability to tune out everything besides the ride. Coming out of a curve that I carved perfectly I will often feel such exhilaration and joy that I yell "woohoo!" or "Yeehaw" in my helmet (think about Han Solo yelling Yee Haw after shooting a TIE fighter in the Death Star equatorial trench and saving Luke Skywalker).
Like a drug too it wears off, and I have to find my next fix. Whatever neurotransmitter I'm burning at an extraordinary rate, I can only keep it going for 20-30 minutes at a time before I have to slow down to recharge. For me, riding at a high pace is an extremely cerebral activity with the riding taking up all the bandwidth in my consciousness.
In 2014 I recognized that I was getting too fast on the street for my own "good". I went out and bought a cruiser to slow me down. If you've been following my life you know how that ended, the cruiser didn't slow me down because I rode it like a bat out of hell, I crashed my CBR at the track, then traded in the cruiser for the Interceptor.
Once again I find myself getting too "fast" on the street for my own "good". I've had the fortune to start getting included in group rides with some of the "fast" guys. You know the type, liter bikes mostly, willing to go triple digits on the street and pass on double yellows. Most of the guys in the group I'd say are in it for the short term, they'll probably get a big speeding ticket, license removed, or have a big crash and then transition into the guy that "used to ride the fastest bike in the valley". Others are the mature adults that still act like Crotch Rocketeers, but have survived long enough to develop some kind of skill and knowing when to fold their hand.
On group rides its interesting to me how the group evolves and organically behaves, with little real leadership or rules. That isn't entirely true I guess, there are a few people with outgoing and infectious personalities; the kind of people who attract others like that naturally. But I digress. Some rules and behaviors have just fallen into place. Most everyone wears full gear on these runs, no squiding it in a tank top and shorts. At the last ride I went on, a kid showed up in a t shirt and the unofficial leader of the group called up a buddy to bring gear for him so he wouldn't be totally exposed.
Another behavior is in passing. On a group ride with fifteen sport bikes you can expect to get stuck behind cars with a dearth of passing zones in the twisties. That's given rise to passing on the double yellow. A fast and dumb "scout" will blast ahead on a liter bike and signal back whether the pass is clear, and other riders will start their passes. The signal changes when the coast is no longer clear and to abort the pass. Recently we spent most of a ride playing this game. It was exhilarating at the same time it was stressful due to the years of programming that passing on double yellow is bad. The most poetic way to describe it is playing a psychotic game of leapfrog at triple digit speeds.
Passing is dangerous. When you have to do it though its best to just get it done as fast as possible. Pull into the oncoming lane and pin it. If you have to do triple digits to get past a line of eight cars piled up behind an RV, then so be it. There isn't much room to pass, get it done quick or don't get it done at all. Its a helluva rush to be in the oncoming lane for what seems like an eternity, the throttle wide open, the engine growling with all sixteen valves opening and closing, cars and RVs rushing by on my right, my chest on the tank, my butt up against the back of the seat in my flatest tuck, the whole time an odd serenity in my mind because the scout up ahead is still giving the "all clear" signal.
When you're riding that fast there's no room left in your conscious mind to think about the shoulda/woulda/coulda, all there is room for is the next five seconds. You don't even look in the mirror, the past and whats behind you is inconsequential to you. For a few minutes at a time career stress, financial decisions, ex-girlfriends, and election year angst don't take the forefront of your mind. A hundred miles an hour gives you the rare ability to truly live in the moment.
Sure when you're going really fast you could meet all sorts of unpleasantness. You could crash, you could get a speeding ticket or license removed, or you could find the mechanical limit of your bike and blow it up. Is it worth it? That's up to you. Motorcycling is my meditation, my way to tune out all the other junk, the way to replace the negativity with something positive, all without filling my mind with bullshit eastern mumbo jumbo and having to smell like patchouli.
