Gosh this is going to sound stupid, but when I read the OP's question I just started to write. It made me think of so much in my life and how a motorcycle has always some how figured in to it. There's so many things that popped in to my head. I've been riding since the Pope was an alter boy... my goodness but I've changed out a lot of rear tires...
I got my first motorcycle in 1969, a nearly new Honda CL 70. My Dad had won it in a pool game down at Slim's. He was a great pool shot and frequently supplemented a mechanics meager income with that skill. I'll never forget the day that thing showed up, I just couldn't believe it was mine. To this day I clearly remember shifting gears the first time and forgetting to let the clutch out until the engine red lined and it stood almost straight up with me clinging for dear life to the back of it like some rodeo clown.
Several years later, I had parked the Honda and moved up to a DT 125 Yamaha. Twice as fast and a true enduro, I quickly became a little devil on two wheels. I could shift gears through third gear on the back tire, once jumped it over a state trooper's car, ripped up the neighborhood and dreamed of becoming the next Roger DeCoster...
Then the old man got tired of it and wheeled that old Honda 70 out and challenged me to a drag race. With a gleam in my eye, I gladly accepted the chance to trounce him good... In front of all my friends, three times in a row, that silly Honda slipped past my Yamaha until I refused to race again...
Dejectedly sulking in my bedroom later that night, I heard a knock and Dad sat down, slapped me on the back and began to explain the secrets of a motorcycle... The physics involved and, equally, the psychology of riding... The discussion ran long in to the night, it evolved in to gyroscopes, handling, women, stability, horsepower, dogs, launching, braking, guns and turning... a myriad of things that I had never before considered or even dreamed of. For many days after, I asked a multitude of questions and received as many good answers.
For years later he and I rode together across the country side, usually with me following. He and I explored forgotten roads, traveled to various towns of his youth and formed a bond that hasn't been broken even today... Sleeping on uneven ground, learning to shoot my whiskey straight, and generally leading a sinful lifestyle. But also delivering Christmas to the underprivileged, carrying groceries to the aged, and helping those in need.
I caught him in the garage recently, sitting on my Harley. He didn't know I was standing there behind him as he flipped the ignition, fired the bike, pulled the clutch and popped it in to gear. With the crack of the throttle and rumble of the engine, I saw the years melt off his frame, shoulders squared up and his head raised as he took the weight of the bike with his legs. I thought sure he was going to roll, when his thumb killed the ignition, kicked out the stand and stepped off. I eased up beside him and looked in to his eyes and said 'You know what time it is, you should have taken it...' He said 'I do and it's your time now, mine's over...' as he handed me back the key.
I think that's when I became a motorcyclist... that night, many years ago. Oh, he told me that night, how he had beaten that Yamaha so handily, and with that knowledge I never lost but one drag race after. But more so, he taught me to think of motorcycles differently than I had up to that point, maybe with more precision and skill, if that makes sense. I never did become the next DeCoster, but I have enjoyed a lot of country roads and excellent bikes. Met a lot of great people and bore witness to an even greater country.
I know that doesn't answer why I ride, but I really don't think there is an answer to that. Why in the world am I working on a heated jacket so I can ride in freezing weather, when there's a perfectly good truck sitting there paid for...? I dunno... You have to be crazy to be a rider, it's like asking why jump out of a plane or be a police officer or fight fires... None of the answers will tell you the true reason... Which may just be to feel our ears flapping in the wind...
The old man is busy dying now... stage 5 colon cancer has left him in sad shape, but he's left a legacy behind... successful children and a ton of grand kids. I wish he had taken the Harley that day... I'm sure the smile on his face alone would have given him another month or so.
Sorry for such a stupid reply, it just came out and makes it a bit easier tonight.