How a Diesel Mistake in Germany Became a lesson in humanity
“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
— Marcus Aurelius
It sounds noble, doesn’t it? Clean, weighty, timeless. Like the sort of thing you’d want carved into a boulder at the top of a hiking trail. But when life actually throws an obstacle at you, especially a self-inflicted one, it rarely feels noble.
It feels messy. Frustrating. Sometimes even humiliating. Let me take you to a remote German village, during a leg of the Women Riders World Relay — a global handover of a baton between female motorcyclists riding in relay around the world. A magnificent achievement globally, uniting so many wonderful women. I’d just pulled into a small village petrol station, tired and cold, on course from Italy to Berlin with a friend and filled up the tank.
Except I didn’t. I filled it with diesel. Not petrol. Diesel. Bummer.
And my heart sank because I knew that would mean a huge delay on what was already a tired day’s riding. I felt sorry I was letting my friend down too.
The Mistake That Moves You
There are a few thoughts that hit you hard in a moment like that. First: I’ve completely ruined this engine. Second: What the hell am I doing here? Third: I can’t believe I’ve messed this up so publicly — in front of someone I respect.
And yet… the wind still blew. The world didn’t end. And help arrived — not despite the mistake, but because of it.
I laughed at myself. A recovery truck arrived and so did a meaningful and very enjoyable meeting of minds with a total stranger. The driver loaded the bike into the back and took us to his garage.
On the way we shared great conversation and connected in a way that revealed our shared humanity. We talked philosophy, the economy, science fiction and life from two completely different perspectives. It was refreshing and enlightening. The kind of conversation that stays with you for years. You know the ones.
The fuel was drained, the lesson absorbed, and the ride — like life — moved forward.
When You’re in the Middle of the Obstacle
This is what the Stoics meant. Not that obstacles are easy. But that they are opportunities in work clothes — messy, inconvenient, unpolished. As Thomas Edison once said:
“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.”
Sometimes it’s not overalls. It’s waterproofs. Sometimes it’s a fuel nozzle that you didn’t double-check because your fingers were cold and your brain was fried.
But still — there it is. A moment to learn something, to appreciate the thing that brought you here. Or freeze.
Fear Is the Fuel — If You Let It Be
The Stoics weren’t suggesting we grit our teeth and suppress our emotions. They were teaching us to respond rather than react. In modern neuroscience terms, it’s the difference between an amygdala hijack and letting your prefrontal cortex take the wheel.
I didn’t feel noble on the side of that road. But I did feel — eventually — grounded. Capable. Not because I’d avoided the mistake, but because I’d faced it. And in doing so, I got to keep riding.
We all have our diesel moments.
A failed relationship. A job you left too late. A decision made in panic. And yet, if you stay with it — not judging, not catastrophising — there is often a gift hidden inside the grit.
Riding Through the Resistance
When something goes wrong on the bike, you don’t throw the whole thing in a hedge and start walking home. You figure out how to keep going. You learn. You adapt.
And this is the muscle Stoicism builds — not perfection, but persistence. The quiet, rugged kind.
When I look back at my riding life, the most important turning points weren’t when everything went to plan. They were the moments I nearly quit. Nearly panicked. Nearly walked away.
And didn’t.
So What Now?
If you’re facing something that feels like it shouldn’t be happening — a plan unravelled, a fear exposed, a moment of deep self-doubt — just ask yourself:
What if this is the way?
Not the detour. Not the punishment. Not the sign to stop.
But the very terrain you were meant to ride through.
Because the obstacles don’t block the path.
They are the path.
Thanks for riding with me. Remember – time is precious, don’t waste the ride.
Louisa (The Existential Biker)
This is the first in a ten-part series. Read Part 2: Choose Your Line next.
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