It really does depend on the ride.
Occasionally I ride out of guilt for not having ridden for a while. This soon passes once the legs remind me of how little they possess in terms of power, but they manage to carry me to places I would not reach on foot and could not reach via car. There are certain times that I ride to be apart, others to be a part. Of a larger like-minded lunatic fringe. A band of brothers, united by a love of this strange compulsive hobby of ours. Health also plays a small role in my riding. The fear of oncoming and increasing decrepitude, mixed with the inevitable realisation that i am not getting fitter, not getting faster, no longer resembling the youth that thought nothing of riding all day. Because he could.
The mind that sees from these tear streaked eyes gains the same pleasure from glinting spokes in the dappled light of summer evenings. The passing landscape, barely disturbed by the presence of a well prepared machine. The first ride. The satisfaction in a shakedown of little incident. The odd admiring glance, smile or reminiscence from a passing stranger. More than enough in itself.
And then there's what passes for danger these days. Usually downhill, barely in control. A passenger with little influence on the outcome of the brief adrenaline filled experience. In the hands of the gods, grip and grinning lunacy. Off-road and on.
Haven't really given it much thought........
