I truly love to ride a motorcycle.

No ignorance on it’s order-of-magnitude lethality multiplier over cars. But there is a certain cognitive-adrenaline fused pleasure that comes with seamlessly gliding your way through the perfect Bézier-esque curve over a gentle highway turn, whilst being held in the ever-present protective arms of gyroscopic precession, that makes the danger of it all worth it to me.

Rollercoasters let you experience a far greater degree of adrenaline and wind rushing through you, but don’t come close to this particular feeling of smiling at death.