The author in the Black Hills of South Dakota Aug. 9. Photo by Chris Wolff. There is pain when it comes to riding a motorcycle. On a bike, exposed to the elements, the little things are painful. At 75 miles per hour, raindrops batter exposed skin. A piece of road gravel kicked up by a passing car feels like a pellet fired straight into your nipple. On a motorcycle, the world hurts — sore butt, aching back, fingers cramping from gripping the constantly vibrating clutch and throttle. From frigid conditions to scorching heat to random gusts of wind trying to knock you off of the bike, everything is trying to kill you.
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