I remember...

..the feeling of freedom washing over me (that sort of existentialism nonsense that I had read about later in life and still fail to disregard as hooey) while riding a small red bike made in 1978 or was it '79, the Honda XR80, picking my line down the middle of the gravel road, wishing the road carried on forever. I wasn't a teenager yet. I didn't know how to drive a car but there I was free to kick up the gravel dust twisting out every ounce that wee bike had switching from the line on the left to the better line on the right and back again at 50km / hr.
I still feel it while riding. Now, it's a relaxing sensation as my shoulders drop and my helmeted noggin bobs this way and that with the buffeting wind.