I listen to music when I ride alone. Everything and anything from the classic rock I grew up with (AC-DC, Boston, Thin Lizzy, Van Morrison) to contemporary artists like Blue October, Amos Lee and Band of Horses. Bach and Yo-Yo Ma are sprinkled through my playlist too.

Every once in a while I hit a point in a ride when a certain song gets its turn just as I reach a particular stretch of road at a certain time of day under the right conditions, and it all clicks. A flawless moment grabs me and the world ceases to be anything beyond my senses, and I’m where I should be at that moment.

This morning I left for work on a typical Wednesday. The temperature was in the low 50s, and it was cloudy and damp. I hit a part of my commute where a profusion of lilac had begun an early bloom. As I rode with my shield up, Bijou by Queen started playing in my helmet. The song was featured in an IMAX film called The Alps that I saw a few years back. The film was about climber John Harlin III who was planning to climb a route on the north face of the Eiger, the same route that claimed the life of his father some 40 years earlier. Bijou is a soaring display of Brian May’s guitar playing and every time I hear it I get chills.

As I rode along, the temperature was cool enough to wake the senses and the air thick enough to hold the fragrance of lilac, freshly cut grass, and all the other sweet smells of spring in the palm of its hand. May hit his solo and with the steady, smooth hum of the V-Strom’s V-twin beneath me, I do believe I got lost for a while in the sheer bliss of sensory overload.

When I hit those points, the best thing about it is realizing it while it’s happening. I used to get the same feeling running or occasionally hiking or climbing. The feeling that you are one with the activity, that you’re getting it right, you’re in the groove, completely focused and yet lost in a daydream of motion and memory, scent, sight and sound.

The greatest rides are the ones where the problems and static and noise of everyday life are either behind you or in front of you – you’re on a different plane and there’s no space for the cacophony of a harsh world.

Few things take you to those places; but music, motorcycles, and of course, love can.

I have those rides a lot; it’s probably what keeps me coming back for more.