Does riding a scooter or motorcycle allow you to appreciate the small things?

A comment on a previous post by Dar, author of the Princess Scooterpie; Adventures of a Motorcycle Diva blog, suggested that riding changes you in small ways.  I’ve been turning that over in my head for awhile and believe that’s absolutely true in many cases if not most.  Certainly it’s true for me.  And it has changed my appreciation of the world.  In short, riding has helped me become a better exploring life.

I see the change during my rides to work.

Seeing fog out the bedroom window stirs an excitement I can only associate with youth — those times as a kid where presents or adventures were imminent.  Having just turned 61 it’s satisfying to know I still get excited by the little things.  And that wasn’t always the case.  Before I started to ride I missed the details of living.  Not sure how it happened but it did.

Riding through the morning fog I was aware of the changing flows of air, of temperature and fragrance.  Everything seems fresh and alive along the way — the utility poles disappearing in the distance and the sweeping yellow lines on the road.  I know they don’t mean anything but I see them.

The only fog is outside my head.

I write a lot about riding alone.  Standing in a field looking at these trees is a reason why.  I just wanted to look at the shapes against the foggy sky, the fences stretching across the field, the muted greens and yellows before me.  With another rider along I would probably not stop, not want to explain what I was looking for, or illuminate the trance I can find myself.

These scenes are part of exploring life.  They’re the noise and the music that remind me I’ve alive and walking on the earth.

One last stop before riding on to the hospital and cardiac rehab.  If riding helps me see the little things, appreciate what’s all around me, if it’s pushing me to explore life, I have to say it doesn’t stop when I park the scooter.

In cardiac rehab I’ve watched myself respond to the gentle pushing and prodding of the staff to explore the boundaries by my heart attack recovery.  They’re testing my limits much in the same manner that I test them on the Vespa in snow or rain.  And I’ve learned to pay attention, watch and process experience into something useful.

I wonder if I’m alone in this kind of experience?  Are other riders in their head as much as I seem to be or are they just roaring on to work or on a little trip without much thought to anything?

How much has your scooter or motorcycle helped you to explore life?