The State of Flow and the Art of Riding a Motorcycle

I remember it all like it was yesterday, even though it’s been just over 15 years now.

I was riding a cross country road trip with my late friend Mike Hinton. We were rolling west out of Amarillo, Texas on I-40, making for Tucumcari, New Mexico by nightfall. We practically had the interstate to ourselves as we chased the sun on the western horizon. Descending off the high plains of panhandle Texas and into the desert and mesas of New Mexico, the setting sun was splashing a kaleidoscope of color across the sky. Behind us, as darkness crept over the canopy above, a full moon was rising behind our right shoulders. Mike was riding lead, his silhouette framed by the sinking sun, and I fell into a completely calm state, almost like a trance, and time seemed to stand still. I rode, I sang, I prayed, and I found a stillness, a centering had come over me. It was a mystical, mythical peace, with the setting sun in my face, the wind whistling by my ears, my hands gripping the handlebars of the big Yamaha beneath me, feeling its engine pulse out a rhythm as we rolled into the sunset.

I experienced what I later learned was a state called FLOW.

Rolling into New Mexico, chasing a sunset that would become glorious soon after.

Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi described flow as a mental state in which a person becomes fully immersed in an activity, experiencing energized focus, deep enjoyment, and a loss of self-consciousness. Time seems to compress or expand, distractions fall away, and action and awareness merge. Few activities invite this state as naturally as motorcycle riding. Balanced between speed and vulnerability, precision and freedom, motorcycling offers a uniquely powerful gateway into the experience of flow.

At the heart of flow is a balance between challenge and skill. Too little challenge leads to boredom; too much creates anxiety. Motorcycle riding lives squarely in this dynamic zone. Every ride demands constant, subtle decision-making, with throttle control, braking, countersteering, line selection, road surface awareness, and traffic anticipation. When a rider’s skills are well-matched to these demands, attention narrows to the present moment. There is no spare mental bandwidth for rumination or distraction; the road and the ride requires everything. This alignment of challenge and competence is precisely what draws us riders into flow.

Lyle and I in Natchez, MS.

I remember another road trip with my childhood chum Lyle Branton. We were out road tripping, celebrating our “happy half century” as we both turned 50. We were riding a long, tranquil stretch of the Natchez Trace Parkway, and I remember the song “Clocks” by Coldplay wafting through my earbuds. That’s not exactly a motorcycle tune, but the hypnotic music seemed to fit perfectly with the gently undulating road through south central Mississippi. I can still see it today in my mind’s eye, riding that long, breathtaking stretch through the old rural South. I spent so much of that ride in that state of flow, as man, machine, moment and motion all converged as one.

Man, machine, moment and motion

The sensory richness of motorcycling further deepens the flow experience. Unlike driving a car, riding exposes us directly to the environment. Wind pressure communicates speed, engine vibration transmits feedback through the frame, and the smell of rain, cow pasture or evergreen forests anchors us in the here and now. These continuous streams of sensory information create a tight feedback loop between perception and action- another hallmark of flow. We adjust instinctively, often without conscious thought, responding to the bike and the road as if they were extensions of us.

Flow also depends on clear goals and immediate feedback, both of which are intrinsic to riding. The goal may be as simple as navigating a winding road smoothly or maintaining a precise line through a corner. Feedback arrives instantly: a clean arc feels effortless, while a sloppy input is immediately apparent. Over time, experience grants us moments where effort seems to vanish altogether. Movements become economical, almost automatic, and the bike feels less like a tool and more like a dance partner. In these moments, riding transcends transportation and becomes almost like a form of moving meditation.

Riding the epic Cherohala Scenic Byway.

On another ride with my friends and Road Dirt colleagues Phil and Ted, we rolled on one of the great roads in the United States, the Cherohala Scenic Byway. This national scenic highway runs from Robbinsville, North Carolina, 54 miles across the tops of the southern Appalachians, before its terminus in Tellico Plains, Tennessee. Long, wide sweepers, cool temperatures even in summer, and beautiful vistas across the Blue Ridge Mountains, I find myself in that state of flow, every time I ride it. The beauty, the quiet, the rhythm of diving through the curvy tarmac, is both focusing and relaxing. I was riding an Indian Scout Rogue that time, grinding down peg feelers and completely in tune with the moment. Again, time seemed to stand still, even as our bikes carried us into east Tennessee.

There is also a psychological dimension to flow on a motorcycle that borders on the existential. The inherent risk of riding heightens awareness and commitment to the present. This is not recklessness, but clarity. When consequences are real, attention sharpens. Many riders describe a sense of mental cleansing after a ride- their thoughts simplified, emotional noise quieted. I certainly do. A good ride in flow provides this relief by temporarily dissolving stresses and cares of the day, replacing our self-consciousness with direct engagement. It’s truly freeing.

I look forward to chasing that state this new year, across these United States. Wishing you a year of moto-flow, wherever you ride.

Rob

*Got a flow experience that stayed with you? Share it with us in the comments below!