Welcome to Moto Chron

When I think about my motorcycle, I see the infinite country plains I haven't yet traversed reflected in the chrome, softened by the wind and the scurrying clouds from the towering hugeness of a Montana sky, or Nebraska, or Tennessee. Are there plains in Tennessee? When I think about my motorcycle, I feel the bugs and sun-baked grit and wind and grease on my skin, under my fingernails, on my elbows and knees, caked on in geologic layers of earth and oil, earth and oil, earth and oil. Yes, I think of my motorcycle often, so often that If you could flip through all 100 channels in my brain, 99 are playing some permutation of a motorcycle show - me scrambling down a fire road on a knobby-tired Triumph, me hitting a hairpin apex in Catalunya on a Moto GP million-dollar machine, me in perfect recline on a Harley Electra Glide, panniers full of whiskey, firewood and a bivy sack.

I like thinking about motorcycles. Doing so seems to bring the sensation to the surface of my consciousness like a rolling boil. The rumbling noise, the tearing through the air, the blur of the road inches from my feet and the taste of the atmosphere of which I am so intimately part of in any given moment that I can smell what's cooking in the houses I pass or join a flock of birds flying in the same current or feel the changing pockets of warm and cold fronts and sense when they clash. No matter where I am, I can conjure this emotion. I'm typing now, but I can feel it in my bones. That's where riding gets you - in your damn bones. The wind gets in your marrow and from there cycles through your body constantly.

There are as many emotions surrounding motorcycles as there are motorcyclists and no one rider can speak for another. But I still believe there is something that connects us, something constant and as old as the relationshipo between (wo)man and machine. That thing which never needs to be spoken but pervades our thoughts. That magnetic pull of the next ride or the next adventure. Those stories that tie us all together forward and back in time. That unbreakable union of soul and motor that compels us forwards and back again down the same roads, paths and tracks. By telling stories here and sharing the new and exciting developments in motorcycling, I hope this blog can be a motorcycle chronicle and an attempt to trace in words that perfect yet invisible line in our collective hearts that make us riders.

Welcome to MOTO CHRON. Please stay tuned.