I never planned on giving up riding motorcycles when I was in my twenties but when planned children came along, I put the bikes away.
My wife at the time said, “you’re gonna want to sell that motorcycle of yours now that we have kids, right?” The pain and the suffering associated with that suggestion still reverberates, but it was the right thing to do at the time, and I said, “Yes – absolutely, I was just thinking that myself too…errr...honey”. So, off to a good home my beloved Suzuki GSXR went, and I wholeheartedly partnered in the raising of my two girls.
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Having girls was awesome, and I did things with them that I think parents should do with any child, we were rough & tumble. Christmas presents were racetracks, racing video games, trucks, guitars; we even built a downhill ice track in the winter for sledding, and we wrestled. They got dolls too, and easy bake ovens and the stuff they asked for; the motor racing stuff and guitars was always my idea – and they loved those “surprise gifts” we called them.
I the following years would go to bike shows with my friend Dave all the time and I swear we were the only two people there without bikes. It was kind of like looking into the corner bakery window as a kid, and you’re without a dollar in your pocket; it hurts the stomach a little, and made me even more determined to get a bike once my girls were through school.
Over the next bike-less twenty-five years, I never let my motorcycle license lapse.
Now twenty-five years can fly by for some things and it actually did, when you consider most things. I didn’t even notice when my hair turned grey, and my waist grew slightly, and my two young girls became two young women, but I was always aware of not having a bike. Over the next bike-less twenty-five years, I never let my motorcycle license lapse; I guess it was one way of keeping the dream alive.
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In the meantime I lusted over every single bike I saw, I didn’t care what the make or model was because when you’re without one; they all seem like the perfect bike - the perfect escape.
When I moved in with Kim (who would eventually become my final wife) she said, “If you want the garage, it’s yours, I never use it”. In the next six months I would clean it out, fixed it up, have electricity and heat brought in. After I got the garage in a livable state, I knew I could safely keep a bike and tools in there as well as create a safe hang out where I could shelter in place when necessary (besides all of my old motorcycle magazines, I had a beer fridge in there too).
In 2017 I bought a new bike. For someone who loves bikes as much as I do, I was amazed at how scared I was to get on it and ride. I actually took an MSF training class just to get rid of the nerves I was experiencing, and with that class under my belt I began taking the bike out for short neighborhood excursions. I would hurry back, get off, catch my breath, and then head out again. It took a couple of weeks and a couple of hundred miles before I would feel comfortable, not totally comfortable, but comfortable enough to jump into traffic, and living in Boston, that’s a pretty big deal.
Soon I was planning rides with destinations in mind. I find it much more pleasing to have a destination, either a scenic spot, or a food stop to make the ride seem more purposeful. When in reality, we know the sole purpose is to experience the freedom gained from focusing on the sole task at hand - riding.
During that first summer, I found myself venturing further and further away from home and heading towards the south coast. I was about 75 miles away from home one day when it started raining, one of those light showers where you can still see the sun shining through. It was actually fantastic; at that time I had an open face helmet and goggles and just let the rain hit me. I thought - now we’re living, and I would be dry before I got home.
At fifty-eight years old now, and re-experiencing the smell of oil and gas and rubber, feeling the nimble power beneath me, the wind & rain in my face, and traveling down those roads I had previously earmarked for future motorcycle travel, while in my car, is the reason I ride motorcycles.
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When I was twelve years old, I would spend all of my paper route money on motorcycle magazines, and dream ….