The desire to connect with the natural world is one of the ten key motivators in our lives, according to leading social commentator, Hugh Mackay.
That certainly resonates with me, and in another blog, Senses working overtime, I remarked how much more involved with nature you are when riding your bike. I believe that when you’re out riding your Harley, you’re more attuned to the world at large. You’re a part of the world, not shielded from it as you are in a car. The clearest demonstration of this is the amount of wildlife you’re likely to experience whilst out on the road.
Aside from roadkill, there's always plenty to see from the seat of your bike and I’ve been really lucky over the years to have seen a great many different members of the animal kingdom.
In Far North Queensland, I’d ridden through days of torrential rain. When the sun magically decided to reappear, I took the opportunity to stop. As I did so, I put my foot down right beside a giant red-bellied black snake who was taking the same opportunity. When I stopped, I didn't see him until I had almost put my foot down right on top of him. He didn't even move. Maybe we were sharing a moment of relief that it was warming up and that our all-natural skins - leather and snakeskin - could start to dry.
A major highlight of a ride to Uluru was a wedge-tailed eagle defiantly staring down our group of Harleys as we approached. It took off only a moment before the first bike arrived and resumed its position over its lunch of not-fast-enough wallaby the moment the last bike had passed.
South of Sydney, I found an echidna nosing its way through the road construction rubble near construction for a new four-lane highway section. As it did so, little did it realise that the construction which led to this treasure trove would ultimately result in its likely death under the wheels of a tonne or more of fast-moving steel.
I’ve had kangaroos materialising from nowhere at dusk, and scattering in all directions; an emu running straight at the bike, only to veer off at the last moment; a mother emu leading a family of chicks to safety further away from the road.
On a road two days south of Darwin, roadside trees suddenly came alive in a sea of white and yellow as hundreds of sulphur-crested cockatoos took off as one at the approach of the noisy v-twin intruders.
Of course, not all the wildlife we encounter has fur, feathers or snakeskin. On one memorable ride, we rode through a locust plague and had to stop every 30 minutes to clean our screens, which were solid with wings, legs and goo. Pity poor Ted, riding a Sportster with no screen. His face led the charge through a squishy green fog of flying insect life.
As well as mind-blowing moments like these, there’s also the usual cavalcade of more domesticated animals – horses, cows, alpacas, llamas, deer, camels, and so on.
I can’t wait to get out on the road again soon.
