You see things vacationing on a motorcycle in a way that is completely different from any other. In a car you’re always in a compartment, and because you’re used to it you don’t realize that through that car window everything you see is just more TV. You’re a passive observer and it is all moving by you boringly in a frame.
On a cycle the frame is gone. You’re completely in contact with it all. You’re in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming. That concrete whizzing by five inches below your foot is the real thing, the same stuff you walk on, it’s right there, so blurred you can’t focus on it, yet you can put your foot down and touch it anytime, and the whole thing, the whole experience, is never removed from immediate consciousness.
In a car one can see things. On a motorcycle, one not only sees things, but smells and feels things. One not only sees that freshly mown hay meadow, but can smell the grass. One can smell the apple blossoms. One can feel the temperature change when entering the forest.
I like my car and truck, but a motorcycle is the only way to travel and see this country.