Photo by: Toni Mitchell
Pictured is Nicole Gill's casket with her helmet on display. Several riders attended the fallen biker's funeral

It’s not a typical riding day.
The long line of riders perched atop their motorcycles, in a line stretched as far as one can see, isn’t for a charity run.
It’s a funeral procession and these riders have come to pay their final respects to a fallen biker.

As I ride among the caravan of bikers slowly making their trek down the open road, as onlookers gaze in awe, it’s as though I have not a care in the world.
It’s me and my bike. The sun beaming bright - a slight wind strumming lightly against my face. So peaceful.

There in lies the dichotomy of riding a motorcycle for me. Here I am on my way to the funeral of a woman who was killed riding her bike, and yet I am so at peace while on my own. So free, so open and somehow so ironic I think to myself.
That’s why for me, riding is sometimes a double-edged sword.

After covering back to back motorcycle wrecks, in which neither rider survived, the nagging question that many riders sooner or later face: is riding worth it?
Nicole Gill was just 30 years old. She had her whole life in front of her and then in a split second, a motorcycle accident took the Nashville resident away from her two children.

Am I the only one who, at times, struggles with the very thing that brings me so much joy, but in an instant, brings so much pain?

Frank Grant of Birmingham knows all too well the juxtaposition.
Grant was in a motorcycle wreck that nearly cost him his life just a year ago.
“As far as getting back on the bike, I had no second thoughts, until my two year old and four year old (came to the hospital) and my four year old said ‘Daddy I don’t want you to get back on it,’” Grant recalls.

Grant says he was torn, but the call of the bike was too much for him to ignore.
“I couldn’t stop riding because it was a passion,” he says. “I can’t explain the passion. There’s a drive. There’s a need. I don't really understand it. There's a need to be on the bike.”
As soon as Grant, who was in the hospital for two weeks, got out, he was back on the bike. He did promise his little girl he would be more careful.
“It’s a thrill. It’s a challenge,” he says.

Will Overton says it takes a special breed to ride motorcycles and for him personally, he doesn’t allow motorcycle mishaps of others to deter him from riding.
“Most riders have the attitude you gone ride or you gone die,” he says.
“You’re gonna go regardless of whether it’s a bike, train, or car..."

Many riders have tasted the asphalt from an untimely spill of a motorcycle.Tobey Hamilton says the real riders get back on just as he did.
“For myself, as long as I have both of my legs - if I had one leg or one arm - I’d still ride. As long as I got breath and strength to hold it up I think I’d still ride,” he says.

Hamilton was quick to point out he does try to learn from others' mistakes.
“For some strange reason I try to visualize myself there when the accident occurs,” he says of motorcycle wrecks.

“When I hear of a rider going down, I'm trying to figure exactly what went wrong. Was it driver error, rider error, weather, drinking? Whatever the conditions may be and once I hear the details of the accident, you learn from someone else’s mistake and try to become a better rider. If you are a true rider you continue to ride.”

Funny thing is, all of the riders I spoke to - whether they were rethinking the whole riding scene or not were - you guessed it- still riding.
“These bikes are dangerous,” Dwight Mason says.
He and Overton are both members of Unexplainable motorcycle club, the same club as slain rider Nicole Gill.

“It makes you rethink riding,” Mason says. “It bothers you when they go down.”
Mason himself was recently hit by a car while riding in rush hour traffic on the interstate.
He says there are days when he doesn’t know if riding is worth it, but it still hasn’t stopped him. After his wreck, he got a new bike.
“I’ve been down before. No sense in thinking about it. You can be in a car or anything.”

For Fred Wilson, riding a motorcycle is more than a hobby and that’s why he keeps getting back on, even when his head tells him otherwise.
“It’s the love of two wheels,” he says as the funeral procession gets ready to head to the church. “We sit back and think…
“I go through it all the time - Is riding worth it? It’s bigger than motorcycles. It’s bigger than me.” So he continues to ride.
Just like I continue to ride.

Out at the cemetery, riders get one last goodbye.
In a show of unity, many of the bikers twist their throttles, sending one last farewell to one of their own. The sound is like poetry to my ears. I love that sound I think aloud.
Even on such a sad occasion, I still can’t help but bask in the sound of the roaring of those engines.
It beckons me.
I take one last glimpse at the burial site of Nicole. Pray for her family and her grieving children.
I look at my bike. Strap on my helmet and saddle up. With a quick look back, my eyes scan forward and I’m off with the wind strumming gently against my open jacket.
Riding. It’s what I do. It’s a part of who I am. At least until I decide otherwise.