For every response of "awesome!" I get when announcing my pursuit of the 'M' on my drivers license, I likewise get a tempering "sign your donor card" or "oh, my son was in a bad wreck..." Understood: there is a real risk to riding a motorcycle, which begs the question of "why do it?" To answer, we go back to my formative years in Salt Lake City, UT.
Growing up, my dad had a sales position that took him to many small towns within a days drive of SLC; by my elementary school years, he had it down to one out-of-town trip a week, done consistently on Monday nights. On special occasions, I would get to take one of these trips as well, traveling to such glamorous locations as Vernal, UT, St. George, UT, and Pocatello, ID. A few trips even took us to the resort town of Jackson, WY. All these trips had a few things in common: we would stop at many small towns along the way to check in with customers, we stayed in very inexpensive motels (my dad having long received great rates at local places due to consistent patronage)...and the rugged terrain of the American Mountain West. These trips were before the days of CD players, so forget about DVD players and head-rest displays. The amusement came from the bond between father and son, and watching the world flow by. There were no big tourist traps: the big sights were Fort Bridger, Dinosaur National Monument (heaven on earth for a young dinosaur geek!), the deep red rocks and Joshua Trees (Yucca brevifolia) of southern Utah, and pretending to be in some kind of Star Wars ship in the passenger seat (these things happen when your dad is a big Sci-Fi fan.) From these trips came the love of road trips, especially ones where the actual destination was (almost) irrelevant.
The years since haven't diminished that love. Driving through the Rocky Mountains, road trips with friends to Chicago and Las Vegas, weddings in Missouri, camping in Yellowstone, and even my college "commutes" across Kansas (and the cold beer waiting at the end) all connected back to those early times on the road. Time to think, time to talk and laugh, and time to see the West. The destinations and reasons changed, but what was important remained the same.
So here I am, many miles in cars under my belt. I've done Kansas solo and I've done long trips with a full car, and I've loved it all. So why go to a motorcycle? It's been a fascination for many years; the intimate connection to the road and elements, the open air, the freedom. But I can point to four "events" that moved that fascination from a curiosity to a drive.
The first was my wife Shannon; specifically here previous experiences on motorcycles and her desire to get back on the bike. Having a partner in crime always makes a new challenge a bit easier; we were already SCUBA buddies, so why not ride together as well?
Second was a trip to Yellowstone summer of 2008. It was, without a doubt, one of single greatest weeks I've ever had. Everyone should spend time in Yellowstone: it is simply one of the most incredible places on earth. But even as I drove around the park, I kept noticing the motorcycles. If my car-bound trip was this incredible, what are the open bikes experiencing? How much of a rush would it be to smell the park (sulphur included), to pass by bison and elk and even bears, to really be connected to those roads? A dream developed in my head: I wanted to ride Yellowstone. There were no time tables, no firm plans. Just a longing.
Second and third can be combined, as they were both TV shows. The first was the Feasting on Asphalt series by Alton Brown. In the show, Alton and a small group rode across the country (first east to west, then south to north following the Mississippi River), stopping to get that ultimate nature of a place: the food. Maybe it's silly to be inspired by such a show, but it connected with those old trips where the destination was secondary, but the trip itself was everything. The second show was Long Way Round, the documentary of Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman's 19,000 mile trip from London to New York...via Europe, Russian, Mongolia, over to Alaska, down through Canada, and across the US. While I'm not planning anything that ambitious (yet), it was a reminder that there are still great adventures out there. And again, the point of the trip was the trip, not the final destination (there are much easier ways to reach New York from London!)
It was at some point during Long Way Round that Shannon and I looked at each other and knew: the time was now. We were DINKs, we had paid off our cars and cards, we had no fixed plans for a house...this was the time. All it would take was a little will, a little conviction to live the dreams we'd been gathering for years.
Now, here we are. I'm sitting in my living room, Fat Tire close at had, most of my body sore (recently re-starting martial arts isn't helping the latter.) In a short few days, I've gone from an almost complete lack of motorcycle knowledge, to some good scores on the BasicRider Course and a voucher to get the M on my drivers license. I've spent nearly 10 hours on a bike, and feel like my previous dreams are not delusions: they are possible. I feel comfortable clearing space in the garage so that Shannon and I can get a couple bikes. We have a ways to go yet: much like driving a car with a manual transmission for the first time, there's a process of turning a knowledge of operation into a fluid comfort that requires little-to-no thought. But I know we can get there, and it won't take long.
Now, looking forward. Lots of practice await, along with maintenance. Ah yes, the maintenance...I'm looking forward to that. I've never been a great mechanic: I can do simple (very simple) repairs to a car, work around the house, but my strength has been in the digital world. I can do software, work with computers, even put together a pretty sweet media center, but motorcycle will be a new world, and it's a not-insignificant part of my excitement. Modern cars are a little intimidating, but a basic 250cc motorcycle is something I can grow with.
Then there are the roads. So many places, so many roads, so little time (and vacation hours!) We are blessed with a quick route down to US Route 24 through Manitou Springs and out into the Rocky Mountains...a road I can't wait to ride. It will take some time before we're ready to ride those, but we've started down the path.
I just need to practice, trust myself, trust the bike, and enjoy the ride.
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