I wasn't more cautious at this age, but then I met
nomadmax .
We have bombed down through wet leaves in the driving rain, and flowed through same the next dry day, probably faster than we should.
I descended Thunder Ridge's Hwy 43 in the rain, brake levers pulled to the bar and still going 35, drifting across the road and being amazed at actually making it through some corners. Since then, even in drier rides on the same pavement, I've not felt any urge to just let go like that.
It wasn't age that slowed me; it was experience.
I've lived long enough; interest in perpetuity is not high, never has been.
It's just that I appreciate pain a lot more now. It's damn inconvenient, if that makes sense.
No longer a volunteer for the "watch this" show, even in my own mind.