A freewheeling essay on mortality and freedom at the intersection of ancient philosophy and biker culture

After my accident, I thought I was done with bikes. Until a few years ago--I was lying in bed having trouble sleeping when I heard a voice say to me, "Alan, get a Harley and ride to Death Valley." I didn't even like Harleys. And I didn't believe that God had called down and told me to get one. It seemed unlikely that the monotheistic God we're stuck with would endorse a brand of motorcycle--maybe the pagan gods of antiquity would. Zeus might have ridden a...