There is no perfectly shaped part of the motorcycle and never will be, but when you come as close as these instruments take you, remarkable things happen, and you go flying across the countryside under a power that would be called magic if it were not so completely rational in every way.

The title of this Chautauqua is "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance," not "Zen and the Art of Mountain Climbing," and there are no motorcycles on the tops of mountains, and in my opinion very little Zen. Zen is the "spirit of the valley," not the mountaintop. The only Zen you fin on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there.

When cleaning I do it the way people go to church—not so much to discover anything new, although I'm alert for new things, but mainly to reacquaint myself with the familiar. It's nice to go over familiar paths.

Can I have a motorcycle when I get old enough?""If you take care of it.""What do you have to do?""Lot's of things. You've been watching me.""Will you show me all of them?""Sure.""Is it hard?""Not if you have the right attitudes. It's having the right attitudes that's hard.""Oh."After a while I see he is sitting down again. Then he says, "Dad?""What?""Will I have the right attitudes?""I think so," I say. "I don't think that will be any problem at all.