There are certain things a man desires above all else. The loving affection of another. The respect of his peers. A life of perfect health. Abundant and lasting wealth. Oh, and one more thing. To hear the sweet siren song of a Ducati twin-cylinder Testastretta motor resonating through dual carbon fiber pipes as you blast along the winding coastal cliffs of Highway 1.

I can’t remember the exact date I added riding Highway 1 to my bucket-o-adventures, but I can tell you, after many years of dreaming, the catalyst for action came down to one simple concept: FOMO. My friend Matt knew riding a motorcycle down Highway 1 had been collecting dust on my goal list for several years. So he did what any good friend would do—he tried to book the trip without me.

A few minutes of “can we actually do this” anxiety later, and the PTO was scheduled, the plane tickets were purchased, and I was on the EagleRider website putting down an $800 deposit on a Ducati Monster 821. Five weeks of agony followed as we counted the minutes until we could trade our corporate gingham and laptop bags for armored jackets and waterproof backpacks. We passed the time by filling in the logistical blanks. We’d pack next to nothing, carry our helmets onto the plane, stay with friends and in Airbnbs along the way, and capture the entire thing with helmet-mounted GoPros.

This weekend I happened upon a few pages I’d written as a college senior—a stormy time in my life to say the least.

I was struck by how personal and vulnerable the writing felt. I caught myself nodding in agreement as I captured the difficulties of writing, and to a larger extent, life. How tough it was to find sustainable inspiration and to express a particular understanding or observation in a meaningful way.

I often wonder why I feel the need to write. Why do I continue to guilt myself into writing paragraph after paragraph? Why do I struggle to make something from nothing? I don’t have an answer, but I did find a clue in one of the lines I dug up:

I aspire to be a great leader. But aspiring is not the same as being. Being a great leader means being a life long student of leadership.

A few lessons I’ve noted in my short journey:

1. Hire people smarter than yourself. Smart people test you. They provoke you to understand your motivations. They often ignore what you say and instead read your actions. They can drive you mad with doubt. But stay confident, build their trust, push them beyond your own skills, and stand behind them when they struggle. They stay loyal to the end result, meaning they won’t let you get in your own way.

2. Have empathy for your team, but expect it to go both ways. It’s okay to relate with a person’s situation, especially if they come up short. But expect that they have empathy for you when you must follow through with the consequences. Teams exist to be greater than the sum of their parts. But when individuals fall short, it impacts the goals of the entire team, which is why a leader needs to be both empathetic and willing to take action to correct shortcomings.

3. Context goes a long way. Telling someone to do something is easy, but it does not build trust. Giving context ensures a smart team will find the flaws in your request. As the leader, it’s not about having all the answers, but in being able to describe the end result and ask the right questions to get there.

The buckling of the suspension caused by my panicked chopping of the throttle serves only to piss off the bike and unhinge my nerves.

As the road ahead clears, I see my opportunity. I adjust my boots, pull my helmet down, and then twist the throttle.

The acceleration is violent.