Crouch over and watch your hands and the controls, the heads-up display disappear. All that is in sight now is the small, effectiveless windshield, and a bright yellow line.

Twist your wrist a little harder, and watch the yellow line beat faster.

Lean the curve. Don't turn yourself, feel the turn. Feel the road. All you see is your body moving against the pavement, why should you believe anything otherwise?

Hear the whine go higher and higher as the yellow beats faster. You are one with the road. Eyes, ears, mind.

The only thing reminding you of reality is nothing but the four hundred pounds between your legs, the heart of what drives you. The bike. The grip that twists, the inertia pulling you up, forcing you to lean your corners.

But even so, that massive weight for a body weighing a third of that is nothing. Almost nothing enough to let you forget; that you're floating and flying on the roads.

Nothing like that four hundred pounds. Live to ride, ride to live.