What's with this motorcycle thing?

Motorcycles and I have a long history. I've always had a facination with them from a young age. I'm convinced that I happened upon my affinity due to my dad who hated bikes. Huh?

OK...it's not what you think. Dad was a City of Atlanta Traffic Court Judge for 18 years. As a result, he knew lots of motorcycle cops. On occaision, they would drop by the house at night on the big ass Harleys. While they visited I spent my time sitting on the bikes, playing with the controls, and turning the lights on and off. Of course, I wanted a bike. The trouble was that my dad had a lot of friends who were not only motorcycle cops but also busted up or dead motorcycle cops. My fate was sealed. It just wasn't gonna happen.

Despite not owning one there was never any shortage of available bikes to ride. Years passed and imagine my dad's consternation when I showed up at home with a Honda dirt bike. Fortunately for me, I was 23 when I bought it. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't make me get rid of it. I rode the snot out of that thing until it was basically unrepairable.

Time went by, and somewhere in there I grew up, got a real job when my band didn't pan out, and moved out. The bike bug came back, but now, I was poor. Doh...back to square one. Well, sometime around Feb of '92 I ran back into Debie at the rink one night when I was skating after a game. Amazingly, the sting of me dumping her when she was 18 had healed, and I got her on the ice with me. One thing led to another, and after a brief courtship, I managed to bully her into being my bride in '92. Now, here's the cool part. Her dad had a 1982 Honda Silverwing in his garage (I like to call it his mid-life crisis). Sadly, it was in about 30 pieces. The cool thing was that I was now the son-in-law. I was in the inner sanctum! I made a deal with him that I would keep the thing running if he would let me ride it. Deal! Done! I had my bike.

I guess I should mention that one of my other passions is flying. I got my license in '97 and have managed to get my hands on some really neat airplanes and helicopters to fly. For a good while, the hours racked up, but flying has one inherent bad quality. It ain't cheap. Delta hit the skids, and I lost 20% of my pay. Good bye fun money. Good bye flying...or was it?

Here's where things get fun. Back in '05 Debbie and I started renting Harleys in Destin, FL. I noticed that she would disappear into the back of the house. She was checking out Harley sites is what she was doing. Sweet! I started dropping hints about a bike, but we had a conflict. I'm a Honda guy. She liked the hogs. On top of that, I was going to have to prove that if we bought a bike that I would ride it. Hmmm....guess who was gonna lose that one. The miles started raking up on that little Silverwing, and somewhere along the way it dawned on me that bikes were a lot like flying. My resolve became even greater!

In June of '06, I managed to find a Honda dealership that would let us take out a Goldwing for a test drive. Deb had always been concerned about the size. Granted, they are huge. We took it out for about 40 miles, and after getting off of the highway, I was greeted with, "Oh, yeah. We're getting one of these!" Two weeks later we were in Chattanooga signing paperwork on a new Titanium 2006 Goldwing. Two weeks later it arrived. A day later the miles started clocking over.

Now, here's where people don't get me. My bke is my car. It's my escape. It's my therapy. It's my new airplane. Oh yeah...it flies. Any pilot out there can tell you that when you are flying your plane you and the plane are one. It's true. Think "turn", and the airplane turns. There's a visceral connection. Now, when I was logging miles on the little bike, it was a commuter. While I did manage one 300 mile ride on it, I really didn't have fun with it. Within a week of getting the wing we were in the mountains. Up. Down. Left. Right. It was like 6 Flags. It was like flying. Even though my fun money wasn't back the sensation was.

Here's a typical Saturday.

"You wanna go see the leaves in the mountains?"
"Sure"
"Where ya wanna go?"
"I don't care..."

175 miles later we're on top of Newfound Gap looking out over the Smokey Mountain National Park.

"Ya know...we're only 15 miles from Gatlinburg. Let's go grab a bite to eat."
"OK"

What a great wife!

400 miles and 11 hours later we're home.

Long story short, a lot of my friends just didn't get our propensity for 500 miles over a weekend. They just don't understand. They don't have a bike. I feel so sorry for them! This past July I dropped the big one...3000 miles spread out over 4 days of riding to Colorado and back. My chorus, AVP, was competing in Denver, and dang it, I was going to ride there. The non-believers thought I was nuts. I averaged 750 miles each day, and along the way, I saw all of the indiscernable things that 99% of the flying population sees from 35,000 feet. When I showed up in Denver, my buds were actually relieved to see me. What the? Did they not think I would make it? I was touched, but admittedly, I didn't get it because they just don't get it.

So, after 33,000 miles in 14 months, I've reached this conclusion. I don't care if they get it. I wish I could make a convert of everybody out there so they could feel what I feel, see what I see, smell what I smell...
It's me, my bike, and whatever Mother Nature throws my way, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If there's one positive that has come of this, Debbie is hell bent to learn how to ride a bike and to buy one by this time next year. There's a Honda Shadow Aero or Suzuki Boulevard in our near future. The amazing thing is now I know how my dad felt. I'm excited that she wants to learn because it's something else that we can do together, but at the same time it scares the livin' snot out of me. All I can do is strive to teach her well as I was taught and ease her in slowly because once she knows what I know she'll be flying, too!

In all the hours I have logged flying airplanes, there is one thing that I never managed to accomplish...get Debbie to take the controls of an airplane. Once she takes the controls of her future bike she's going to figure out my other secret, and there may be a future pilot in the family!

Ride safe and keep the sticky side down!