On topic - in spite of motorcycling for the last 50 years (and I still do, and did so today), since two wheels without a decent engine between them is a waste of two wheels, and without incident so far, about 20 years ago I took an interest in horse riding: my cousin was a very good rider, had her own horse and competed in eventing and show-jumping (and similar horsey bollocks).
I was in my mid 40s then, and I fancied learning to ride and had a couple of lessons, but I couldn't stand the pretentious horsey-set and decided to short cut the lessons 'sit up straight, Gordon' crap and just buy a horse and get on with it, which I did, and with some help from my cousin I was soon whizzing round the gallops and hacking across Mugdock Moor with no elegance whatsoever - but I could stay on: she said I was a graduate of the 'yee-ha' approach to riding horses.
One day, on arrival at the stables, I noticed a very striking chesnut thoroughbred in the next box: it had been bought out of a 'seller' at Hamilton Park races the previous day and the new owner, whom I knew since she had another horse in the yard, was going to re-train the beast to replace her (getting older) current horse in due course: and what you are supposed to do with ex-racehorses is chuck them in the field for 6 months or so and stop feeding them high-energy food so that they calm down a bit and forget about racing before you start riding/re-training them.
The yard had a half-mile round all weather and fenced-in outdoor gallop and the new owner was keen to see the horse in action before it got chucked in a field to calm down and she wanted to have just one spin round the gallops first: however the horse got quite excitable and she decided against risking it: so, like an idiot, I volunteered to give the horse a spin round the gallops for her and happily jumped on - the horse saw the white rails and then did what it was trained to do. I stayed on but was a passenger for two circuits of the gallops before it decided to stop, no doubt in line with its training. It was both terrifying and breathtaking at the same time and probably the stupidest risk I have ever taken. A few months later the horse was a pussy-cat and she had years of fun with him.
Compared to horses motorcycles are safe (bikes have steering and brakes that actually work).