My Blog
Why I Ride…
Tuesday 25th Mar 2025I ride because men, myself amongst them, far too often fancy ourselves as lone knights, convinced to the point of madness, we must meet the world’s terrors in solitary valor. We armour up as ritual in silence and bravado, defending our hearts as though they were distant castles, unreachable by kind words or honest confessions. In that myth of the White Knight, we forget that no one stands indomitable, that even the fiercest warrior needs a fellow rider at his side.
So I ride in DGR because, on this day, we choose to set aside the myth that each of us must conquer alone. We polish our boots and straighten our ties not for vanity (perhaps a touch), but as a promise that when we mount our bikes and thunder down city streets, we do so in unity. Our shared rumble speaks to every man burdened by heartbreak, every father drowning in unspoken worries, every friend who wonders if anyone notices the weight on their shoulders.
I ride because we can do more than simply pretend to be knights in shining armor. We can be men in flesh and spirit, flawed but unafraid to show compassion. Like the solitary figures of old romances, we dream of charging headlong into the breach; yet, the far too often unspoken truth: no knight is ever truly alone. Even the brightest hero needed a squire, a comrade, someone to catch them if they fell. On this day, we become each other’s squires, riding side by side so no one has to fight their battles in hushed despair.
Beneath the gleam of chrome and the hum of engines lies a deeper cause: men’s mental health, prostate cancer research, a clarion call that reminds us nobody triumphs by steadfast denial. For men die younger, sometimes by the hand of their own silence, or through maladies unheeded until it’s too late. We have heard the lament of too many gone too soon. On this ride, we declare: enough. We will not allow pride or isolation to claim more lives.
I ride because I believe in compassion that rings louder than our collective roar. Because I’ve carried heartbreak and scars, and I’ve seen what happens when those burdens go unshared, beautiful minds lost behind walls of unspoken anguish. If we can come together in camaraderie, in that dusty swirl of morning sunlight, engine heat, that intoxication via oil, and leather, (and hopefully no rain) in the shadows of the monuments we call home, perhaps we can show every man out there that genuine strength lies not in shutting the world out, but in opening our hearts to fellowship.
And yes, for those that know me, part of me can’t resist the thrill of winding roads and the promise of the unknown. It’s a dance with fate, where the risk reminds us. Let’s ride together, then, with all the poise of knights on iron steeds and the irreverence of kids who found the keys to the kingdom after the nanny had one too many. Let’s ride, with a bit of flair, a dash of cheekiness, and the gentle rumble of well loved bikes and hope I don’t low side in front of everyone (because that’d be rather embarrassing, wouldn’t it?).