There is always two sides to the same wooden nickel. My last post told you of the events of my travels to the 2026 Sturgis Rally, but there is, of course, the story that lives on the other side of said nickel.
This rally for me almost didn’t happen for various reasons. For I’m not sure why the struggle, but for the first time that I can remember, every day I kept talking myself out of going. I touched on it in the previous post, with my Road King having an issue, the Toys ‘r’ Us tent, the heat and whatever else I could come up with, I felt like for once this 12 o’clock hour clause was actually going to be implemented. Now that’s just crazy talk.
The truth is this my gut was telling me not to go. My head was telling me one thing, my heart was telling me another and my gut in all it’s glory, was telling me not to go. A little known fact about me is I dream every night, in detail. I usually can’t remember much after I wake up but sometimes I do. Some dreams are vivid and in color, some are on repeat, but nonetheless, every night. Do I usually listen to my gut? I always take it into consideration, but for me I’ve purchased more lottery tickets based on this midsection of my body with no results, so there’s that. But these dreams…
As motorcyclists, there are lots of things we must consider and one of them is whether or not this steed we straddle is going to get us there and back. I may have this carefree way about me with a ‘send it’ attitude, but this is serious business. Breaking down on the way to work is one thing but when you need to figure shit out on the side of a road with help hours away, it takes on the classic scenario of the old Tracy Lawrence song Find Out Who Your Friends Are. Rolling my pant-leg up for help went away in my mid-20’s and besides, when I pull my helmet off and set it on the road next to the motorcycle as the universal sign for help, the biker community usually comes running. Did I mention these dreams?
It truly was more serious then I make it out to be. There were plenty of Rally updates on social media about the many early-rally accidents, and over the years I know this is always a possibility. New riders, old riders alcohol and just people not paying attention can make a fun event not so fun. All this along with these dreams of previous rallies where close calls that I remember came back to life. I was completely in this head of mine with the what-if’s and maybe’s that I wondered if it was worth it. I hadn’t actually ridden to the rally for the last three years, and I also wondered if the old man in the mirror could actually do it anymore.
I needed to prove it to myself. I needed to get back to this ride, to this place in my head where life lives
Send it. Those words keep coming back to me. I needed to prove it to myself. I needed to get back to this ride, to this place in my head where life lives. I needed to be the young man that still gets up in the morning thinking he can do anything. The two sides of the same wooden nickel – How old you are versus how old you feel. Internal struggle versus life’s real struggles. I’m not dead yet, and why all the worry? Maybe it’s the fear of letting myself down, but for crying out loud I let myself down every day with my eating habits.
I needed this ride. Not so much to Sturgis, but a ride far enough to get out of my own head. I needed this ride to know why I ride and in some way to prove that my gut isn’t always right and my dreams are just that. It was a good rally for me although it was a quick trip but with many hours in the saddle to put my head in a better place. You know, like inside my helmet.
Well, for a few weeks prior to this year’s 86th annual rally I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I always have the clause written in that the plug can be pulled right up to the last minute and the trip could be canceled. This year I felt like things were just working against me and due to poor planning (zero planning) the heat, this ridiculously small three-man tent I’ve only used once before, and a few weird dreams telling me to pull the plug. On top of that, I needed a new back tire to make the trip and due to once again, poor planning (no planning) I had to get it installed at work a couple of days before. Oh, and did I mention, on a morning ride to work just a few days before all this my Road King went into limp mode at a stop sign and just like the the term “limp” I made it to work without any throttle. Ugh. After Wayne put it on the lift, it was determined that we don’t know exactly the issue. So what do you do? You pack your suitcases and go. Screw it, let’s ride.
The ride there was pretty uneventful. Along the way I spoke with riders headed in both directions and I realized for some it was their first trip and for others it was a similar situation – last minute with minds changed to go is not unusual, and the length of how long to stay to be determined. Even I wasn’t sure how long I would be gone but deep down I knew it would be determined by weather, my mood or even the tolerance of a three-man tent. Little did I know…
750 miles later, I was confused. Not because of the heat or dehydration, but why it was 750 miles. I did go a different way but when Jeff leaves the station traveling at 70 mph, what time does he arrive at the rally? 11 and a half hours later I rolled into the campground. I needed a shower and to set up camp. Boy that tent looks really small. I throw all my gear in it and head into town to get something to eat. Once I got to Main Street I parked and headed to the Loud American for the usual beer and beef tip basket. It’s great walking around checking things out, and running into people you know. I’ve known Buffalo Mike for years coming to the rally and to see him within an hour of getting here is crazy. But is it really crazy? What’s crazy is this ritual of him putting his helmet with horns on my head. I guess we all have our thing and this happens to be his. He’s a great guy but if its hot and you’re sweaty, lets just shake hands. Hopefully, this helmet/horn/hair thing will end up in the Sturgis Museum as a tribute to the man who loves this rally.
After walking around a bit I decided to head back to Lamphere Campground and call it a day. As I parked the bike next to this 3-man dome tent I actually thought back to a couple of trips I made where I had the wrong rain suit packed. Apparently, I had mistakenly packed my wife’s rain suit for a trip to Boston, then forgot to take it out and replace with mine for the second trip with the Ride 50 at 50 boys. Anyone who has read any of my stuff knows the rain suit struggle was real. This tent is going to be a tight fit. I wonder who thought that three men would actually get into this thing. As I literally crawled into this torture device I knew it would be even harder to get out of in the morning.
Tuesday morning. Rough night sleeping even with ear plugs in, but necessary with Glenco Campground close by. I’m happy to have survived the night with a couple of hours of sleep, but I still need to get out of this tent with some dignity. I’m an early riser and it’s still dark but there is no way I’m even getting my socks on inside this dome from hell. Everything I packed with me is also in here so there’s that. I unzip the door and make my way outside and climb into an upright position, gather myself and head to the campground HQ for coffee. Last year while sitting at a table by myself, a guy and his girlfriend came over and asked me about my BMW F700 GS that was parked in front of us. We talked for about an hour about life and the rally, and all the things motorcycle related. He was a former member of a 1% club and had the tattoo of the club on his neck. I’ll admit, he is a great looking guy and a wonderful conversationalist, and I enjoyed talking to him and his girlfriend. The same thing happened again this year. Sitting at the same table, they walk up and sit down with me and we picked up where we left off. This to me is what this rally really is. We said what we always say – see you next year as hands were shaken.
I rode into town and parked on Main Street. Not much going on as it’s 8 am so I walk around a bit. It’s already hot and I’m figuring out what is on the agenda today. I walked over to the Indian Motorcycle display and met Pat Cornell who has set several world records on his Indian. I have followed him on social media during his record-braking ride and it was a pleasure talking to him. 146,000 miles in 146 days? I rode 750 yesterday to get to the rally and my ass was kicked. I didn’t mention that to him.
Back over onto Main Street, I see a guy changing his oil on a Kawasaki Vulcan 900. On Main Street. At 9 am. I have seen some weird stuff, but c’mon man. I’m not sure what the other guy is doing, but this is a first for me. (editor’s note; it was more serious than changing oil, But c’mon man)
Did I mention how hot it is? I walked over to a house on Lazelle Street where for the last 17 years a family has put up a stand and sold bottle water and soda. I have stopped here for years and watched their two girls grow up. I spoke with Kathy, their mother, as she was working the stand by herself until one of the girls comes to help. By the way, both girls are now flight attendants and they paid for college working during the rally. Again, this is what the rally is to me. Did I take a picture? Sorry, I didn’t. I walked over to he J&P Cycle corner and sat down on a bench in the shade. The rally is starting to get busier and I’m a people watcher so a bench is a great place to be. It never fails. Someone always sits down right next to me. I mean right next to me. This older guy and his wife were walking in the store and he said with a grump tone “I’m sitting here” and he did. She went in while he and I talked about the usual. They’re from Missouri and I heard about how she wants him to get a new helmet and he doesn’t want too. I heard about how she is ten years younger at 65 than he is. I heard how she brings the small dogs with them and he likes that. You know, life story stuff. She came back out and said let’s get you a new helmet – he said NO! and she walked back in. I said communication is the secret to a lasting relationship and he agreed.
Mid-day I decide to go to Rapid City to Black Hills Harley-Davidson. Big place, lot’s of vendors and some serious business of service, bike sales and parts and accessories. On the way over, east-bound traffic started to back up and of course mostly bikers and the like. It’s hot and not the type of situation that sells motorcycles if you know what I mean. This takes the fun right out of it. Thinking the worst is up ahead, after 30 minutes it ends up being a semi truck having mechanical issues. It could have been something worse.
I leave Black Hills Harley and head over to Texas Roadhouse just down the road. I take a seat at the bar and start the usual banter with those close by. I noticed they have a Texas Roadhouse Rally shirt and I tell the guy next to me that I’m leaving with one. He laughed, I laughed and it was game on. I asked the waiter and he was very sure that it wasn’t going to happen. I asked the shift manager and she laughed like I was kidding and said they’re only for employees. I said I would fill out an employment application if that would help. They weren’t hiring. But out of the back came the store manager with a shirt for me and I was shocked (not really). Maybe they’ll call me in to work a shift or two.
Heading back after scoring the shirt I hit hard rain on I-90. I had the idea all I needed was my rain jacket not pants on and clearly I don’t know anything. I pulled off at an exit followed by an old man and we sat at the stop sign while it rained. Knowing it wouldn’t last, it wasn’t worth putting my rain pants on over wet shoes and jeans, I stood there like a man and just let it rain on me. What about the old man? Yeah, I’ve had better conversations. He just wasn’t a happy guy. I even told him about my new t-shirt and he didn’t care. Seeing a small break in the rain, I took off for the Full Throttle Saloon.
Pictures won’t do it justice, so why bother? It’s big and loud and holds lots of people. The main reason I go is for the Michael Lichter bike show. It’s quiet in here and the custom bikes are great. And once again pictures won’t do them justice. I also spoke with a guy from Australia and we became fast friends. Lot’s in common except for his cool accent and full head of hair. I liked talking to him because he brings a perspective to the rally we in America often lose. He loves it here and the rally for him doesn’t disappoint. He shook my hand and appreciated the conversation. Likewise, my friend.
The Full Throttle Saloon is quite the place. I always go in the afternoon before the concert goers start to show up. It’s crazy enough but I don’t need more crazy. As I headed out the door to get on the Road King, I spot this individual just standing in the parking lot. I thought to myself, here’s a person who doesn’t fit in but also one that does fit into the Sturgis Rally. You can see it all here if you just look up from your phone. The people, the stories, the sights and sounds. It’s all here. For a couple of weeks, people come from all over the world to be who they want to be. Whether it’s authentic or just for show who knows or cares. But somehow I took his picture without him knowing. Welcome to the rally!
Time to head back to camp to figure out if I’m going to stay another day or head back Wednesday. Looking at the weather, there is rain in the forecast so I’m leaning on packing my suitcases and heading back. While thinking this through, I pulled up to my miniature size home only to see that one of the two poles that holds my whole life together has snapped. Yep, I might as well be sleeping in a bread sack. This was the sign I needed to pack up and leave. Oddly, I slept like a champ with a tent folding up around me. I woke up, slithered out of the tent, packed up and headed out just as the sun was coming up.
The first 180 miles we great. The temperature was cool but warming, and the Road King had been humming along great this whole trip. I stopped in Alliance Nebraska for gas and you could feel the heat rising. The rest of the ride will be miserable, and it was. But I rode like the wind, and for once I didn’t listen to music on the ride home. I thought a lot about stuff I haven’t thought of for a while. Things that needed to be sorted out or rehashed in this beautiful mind of mine. You know the one – right under this beautiful head of hair on my head.
What is next year going to be like? Have I had enough of this rally? I don’t know, but I have a few months to think about it. As for the other stuff, there will need to be more time sorting those thoughts out. After another 750 miles on Wednesday, I realized I rode there and back in 24 hours total on Monday and Wednesday and I spent a total of 36 hours at the rally. Worth it? It was, but it wasn’t easy. As for the tent? I left it in the trash. The Road King? Never missed a beat (I wasn’t worried at all).
There’s plenty of talk the last couple of years about Harley-Davidson. Most recently with the CEO Jochen Zeitz, stepping down, the internet has had plenty of posts and comments from those who want to weigh in on what H-D has done wrong. Disclaimer; I don’t have the answers.
I’m mostly writing this from my experience, and basic knowledge of being a Harley enthusiast and owner of many Harley-Davidsons. I’ve work in the motorcycle industry for over 16 years and have had my share of long conversations about the Motor Company and what appears to be, a business in decline. So here are some of my thoughts on the matter and since my phone isn’t ringing, apparently nobody is asking me.
Social media can be quite the venue for opinions and observations. I have spent more time than I really should reading comments from many fellow riders who feel passionate about what is going on behind the Motor Company’s shrinking dealer network, seemingly higher prices, aging core customer base and the reason H-D is where they are.
I sold new Harley-Davidson’s for 10 years and I admit, I like the brand and what it represents. At that time I felt that it truly was a lifestyle – at least that’s how I sold them. But honestly, I also believed it, and perhaps I still do. But motorcycles, regardless of the badge on the tank, is a lifestyle. The difference is the Motor Company took it all to another level. From the history of Harley-Davidson and their compelling story, to where they were assembled and how it all ends up at a major rally near you is fascinating. It was easy to get the potential buyer excited and sold on the dream. Whether the customer never went further than to a HOG meeting at their local dealership or decided to go coast to coast, the picture would get painted and all that was left to decide on was what accessories to add and get them to finance. The Customer Path was almost complete. Then came the casual clothing, leather riding gear, poker chips and all sorts of gifts and collectables. The Bar and Shield appeal is strong, and for many years this loyal customer was happy to be a part of a much larger association of riders.
I haven’t sold a brand new Harley since the fall of 2017 but I’m still in the powersports business. We do sell used Harley-Davidsons and have great success with it. In recent years, I’ve been somewhat surprised how values of used Harley’s have fallen. Just to be clear, the wholesale market on used inventory is fluid for all makes, but even I have been surprised with the low values and the plethora of used Harley’s for sale both in the market and at auction.
So I believe the answer to the question of why Harley-Davidson is struggling is in how you are answering this serious question:If you are in the market for a new motorcycle, are you considering a Harley? If not, then why? Are you aging out? Does Harley-Davidson not offer what you’re in the market for? Retail pricing of a new Harley? Dealer location? Politics? All of the above?
I’m a soon-to-be 63 year old average consumer/enthusiast and I can’t see myself not owning a motorcycle. I currently ride a 10 year old BMW F700GS and usually trade about every two years. The nearest BMW dealer to me is 145 miles away. The nearest H-D dealer is 65 miles. I also own a Harley-Davidson Low Rider but it’s not my daily. Retail pricing? I don’t see any reason to buy a new motorcycle of any brand as there are plenty of low-mileage used inventory available. Oh, and I’ve owned nine Harley-Davidsons (only one brand new), I work at a Kawasaki dealership, and have ridden to the largest motorcycle rally in South Dakota for 17 years. Hmm, maybe the problem isn’t Harley-Davidson.
I believe all brands have the same issues. The big difference is most other brands offer something for the whole family. Youth dirt bikes and ATV’s, personal watercraft, side x sides for work and play, dual sports and street bikes. Poker chips? Not so much. Perhaps, Harley-Davidson should open the door for dealers to have the opportunity to be multi-line. Let dealers run their business how they see fit. If you want to remain exclusive H-D, so be it. But if a dealer can offer up solutions to an active family, build potential customers from an early age, fill the service department with more work and give their customers a chance to grow into a Harley-Davidson motorcycle, it might make a difference.
The Harley-Davidson lifestyle is just their version of the powersports lifestyle. There isn’t anything in the rule book of riding that says you can only own one brand at a time, and you must only ride on the street and in groups of more than five. We ride, we race, we raise a family and make friends out of strangers because of these damn things. Again, I don’t claim to have the answers. But I’ve seen those great customers fade into the lifestyle of recreational SxS’s, toy-haulers and grandkids and then come in for another motorcycle.
I believe Harley-Davidson has it’s place in this world. Maybe their vision has been clouded by the smoky burnouts, but with the right person behind the handlebars maybe there is hope. I’ll ask once more; If you’re in the market for a new motorcycle are you considering a new Harley-Davidson? And if not, why? The Motor Company might want to know.
Sometimes, the answer to most questions in this simple mind of mine is to grab the handlebars of my motorcycle and go for a ride. In my last post Tomorrow We Drive, I talked about winter riding and how we need to find those brief opportunities to get the bike out and depending on your region, those brief moments maybe few and far between. But if you’re lucky, this may not be a concern. I’ve heard there are parts of the country where you can ride in relative nice weather all year long. Oh, the luck.
The Winter Blues
I work in the motorcycle/powersports industry and I stare at this stuff all day long. I talk to many folks that buy bikes and such in the winter as well, and I guess in some sort of twisted way this is me subconsciously grabbing my handlebars to get a fix. You don’t have to always ride a motorcycle, but it helps when it comes to the I can’t ride today blues. Paycheck? Oh, that too. When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.
“When you think about, talk about, work around and ride bikes all year long, and still want to go for a ride? Hi, my name is Jeff and I might have a problem.”
I’m pretty fortunate to do something I love. I’ve been lucky as an adult to really not have a job that sucked, but this particular industry has allowed me to be who I am without everyone thinking I’m crazy. There are a lot of great people I’ve met and gotten to know that I wouldn’t have otherwise had the opportunity to. Hmm, I wonder if they say the same about me? Of course they do.
Now that we’re a couple of weeks away from a new year, I know it won’t be long before the daylight lasts a little longer and the temperature becomes more comfortable. It’ll be fine, right? I’m not the only one thinking about this I’m sure. Well, except those living in a place where it’s unimaginable to reside somewhere that has seasons.
And so I sit on this cold, windy day looking at the forecast. Sunday looks like a possibility and it might be nice to ride around this small town I live in. Even a short ride can go a long way with me this time of year. And if the ride doesn’t happen you’ll at the very least find me at work thinking and talking about it.
Writing a blog about motorcycles and my deep thoughts and perspectives about riding has opened up a whole new world for me. Within the last few years I’ve made several friends and contacts within this industry and I’ve had the opportunity to read some amazing blogs and articles written by these folks. When I started doing this there wasn’t any hope for me. I thought of this as more of a journal – a place to put what I’ve had stored up in my head just so I wouldn’t forget it all. But it has become so much more than that as its the inspiration of those who truly live their lives as an adventure. They take it beyond what I affectionately call the “city limit.” The city limit is an imaginary boundary I have put myself in growing up in a small town. Much like a dog with a collar and an invisible fence, I may feel a shock if I ever leave this small town.
The city limit is an imaginary boundary I have put myself in growing up in a small town. Much like a dog with a collar and an invisible fence, I may feel a shock if I ever leave this small town.
But for some of these riders and writers it has become a way of life. They have taken a dream and turned it into a reality of sorts – an adventure if you will. To create a world where words and roads meet can be a wonderful thing, and I have enjoyed following these people along their journey while they bring their experiences to life. It takes a lot to do this and the sacrifices are many. Time away from family and friends, living along the road or trail and pulling down some meager wages can add up to burnout and frustration at times, but they keep plugging away at it.
Dharma Anchor is a great example. I always enjoy reading Vallaree’s blog and looking at her amazing photography as it puts me right there in the moment as if I’m standing next to my motorcycle seeing it with my own eyes. Traveling by motorcycle, her view and descriptions are spot on and this is obviously pure talent as I know how difficult it is to convey. I love this blog.
Sharon Faith is and adventurer and writer from Florida, traveling on her Suzuki V-Strom and writing about her travels. She’s finally found her way to Alaska and from what I can tell she is loving every minute of it.
Dannell Lynn is currently hitting all 50 states and Canada in a year’s time on her Triumph motorcycle and writing about it on her blog Black Tie to Black Top. She has traveled the world and touched many lives along the way. To make this kind of commitment is an amazing thing for sure but I know the true reward is the people she meets along the way. Let’s face it, we ride motorcycles but it is the places and people who make the trip an adventure. Safe travels my friend.
Alisa Clickenger is proof that life isn’t always headed in the direction we think it is. Many years ago, she changed the direction of her life and it somehow involved motorcycles. Looking back I’m sure she would agree this was a good thing. Living in California, she has pursued her dream of being involved in the motorcycle industry by speaking at events encouraging others to ride and representing tours for women riders. Also a world traveler on a motorcycle, she only has more great things planned for the future. I can’t wait.
Shawn Thomas currently works for Rawhyde Adventures and makes his living doing what he loves to do. I know he’s not writing a blog about his adventures, but his enthusiasm is contagious. A family man making the sacrifices to follow a dream.
If you like following my blog, check out the people I like to follow. There are so many more I could mention They are doing what can be difficult to do: Writing about their riding adventures and making it interesting enough to keep you coming back for more. Thank you all for allowing me into your adventure and keep it coming!
Back in the day some bikers refered to a helmet as a “lid” or “bucket” when sitting around telling mostly true stories with their buddies. We all have certain terms for things as we often refer to our motorcycle as a “ride” or “steel horse.” So let’s take the “bucket” and use that as a question. What is your “bucket list.” Or better yet, what is your helmet list? All of us are in different stages in making our helmet list and often that list changes as we get older. Some things are crossed off the list with enthusiasm, while others seem impossible to achieve. As I ride I find some things just cross themselves off as if I set out to conquer it, but in reality it was just by chance that the item on the list happened without even trying. The whole reason for our helmet list is to make sure that we experience and enjoy life, no matter what it is you set out to do.Â
Now you just don’t fall out of a plane by accident when the goal was to go parachuting, but to see the sunset from the most random place is quite frankly, a pretty big deal to me. To have a great conversation with a long-lost friend might not make your list, but for me is one that I can check off. I think that sometimes we make our helmet list so difficult we find ourselves miserable when we can’t get anything crossed off.
Sure, I have several things I want to achieve in my life but I also want to enjoy every possible experience I can. After all, that is what life is about. Experiences. Riding a motorcycle can open the door of experiences you may not get anywhere else. You can meet some amazing people who can also share experiences they’ve had along the way. Of course, in some cases it may not be a helmet list to them, but maybe a “bandana list” is more their style. To each their own!
If you haven’t made your helmet list, you should. If you don’t have a helmet, get one. And a motorcycle as well. You might find that as you ride, that list inside your bucket will slowly disappear, along with some things you weren’t expecting. At least for a while, the stress of life and the problems at work have a way of sorting themselves out. Take a ride to the coast, ride through the mountains or to the corner store. But ride. Mentally cross off those things you see that weren’t on your list. Looking over my shoulder at a beautiful sunset while pumping gas is one of mine, and I tell myself – at this moment, right now, I am right where I want to be. Check.
The need to get there. You know…over there. Someplace you are not. We bikers are real bad about that as we are constantly searching for the “new” perfect road. Even as we travel the same old boring rides over the years, there is a pit in our stomach that there might quite possibly be a more perfect way of getting there. You know…over there. Better trees, curvier curves, more scenic bridges and more hilly terrain. I think you get the idea. And so the search continues.
Just when we think we’ve found our utopia, we realize it’s just not enough. Like a kid is to sugar, we bikers are to scenery. Our drug of choice is the feel of the wind and the sound of our bikes as we ride down another less congested highway to somewhere we’ve never been. Sounds easy right? Right. But life can be that way. We should always be searching or at least looking around with our head up instead of walking in circles looking at the ground. We should be wanting to discover things and places we have never experienced. Some people do and others…well, do not.
I must admit when I take on a new day I’m just as much in a rut as the next person. But once in a while I do wander out of my little world and take life on. It’s exciting to be somewhere new and to talk to new people, experience new things and make some new memories. But the searching I speak of is different. It is the horizon that we just can’t get to. It’s always just over the next hill. You know…over there. It’s that constant drive and curiosity that keeps us in motion. And besides, what would we do when we get there?
Yesterday a friend of mine mentioned of having thoughts of mortality because of the loss of a close friend. Along with other things going on in and around her life with family, my only comment was “this is what makes us realize how precious life really is”. I too, have had these thoughts the last couple of years with the loss of a couple of friends. Both losses didn’t make much sense and to this day still don’t. But every day I get up, do my best, be myself and carry on with the day-to-day stuff. While most of the “stuff” I refer to is pretty meaningless in the big picture, it needs to be done. But more importantly, it needs to be done. It is the “stuff” we do that gets us through every day, whether it’s dealing with mortality, or stress or whatever. So we do it. Sometimes begrudgingly, but we do it all the same.
My approach to the last couple of years of dealing with these thoughts have been simply to tell those around me how important they are in my life. It’s not something we usually do, I know, but think about it. A few simple words of encouragement, a random message that you are thinking of them, or better yet a “thank you” for being a person in your life can give both parties a clear understanding of where we are in this world. I may not see you or talk to you again before something sudden happens. But if something does, if nothing else, I know we both know. Realize, that if you volunteer to someone what you think about them, and you don’t get the same response, it’s ok. Just know that when they walk away they will be thinking about what you said.
There are a lot of inspirational quotes to fall back on that can bring reassurance and peace to our lives, but the impact of a few original words from your mouth can change people. And the feeling it gives you is the same peace in our lives that we need. Outcomes in life can’t always be changed. And we can go through life thinking people know how we feel about them. Maybe they do know, but what better way to make sure than to tell them yourself?
Live your life and enjoy even the bad days. It’s ok to feel the way you do and to open up your heart even if it hurts. Easier said than done, without a doubt, but today is the day someone may need to hear how important they are to you. Â So tell them.
As a teenager in the ’70s I was completely distracted by girls and motorcycles. If I only knew then what I know now, I would be in better shape with both motorcycles and women in general. You see, some of the motorcycles I owned back then have become new again. Highly desirable and worth more money than originally priced. Examples include, Honda 305 Scrambler, 1975 Yamaha DT175, Harley-Davidson X90, 1976 Husky 175, a Yamaha TY250 Trials and the list goes on and on. Sometimes, even in the moment, we are aware we should hold on to something with everything we have knowing we may never get them back. I know now I was never thinking they would be worth more than what I had invested, but living in the moment has its price. And I paid that price in full.
I was a child of that era and it goes beyond just motorcycles and girls. Cars and trucks came and went just as easy. 1966 Plymouth Fury, 1970 Dodge Charger, 1972 Dodge Charger, 1956 Ford truck, 1961 Ford truck Uni-body, 1949 Chevy truck, 1967 Chevy short-wide bed truck…see the trend? What was I thinking? But you have to remember, to me, cars and bikes were just a moment in time. Girls on the other hand were different. Like hair styles and bell bottoms. High School and dating. Transportation and recreation. Buy and sell or trade. Some were great deals and others were, well… not so great.
Even the Levi’s I was wearing back then are worth money! Say what? Yes, and in high demand. I’m not sure the pea green or sky blue leisure suites my mom made for me with her McCall’s Patterns would be worth much now, but who knows? Stranger things are happening. Some people save things from their past with hopes of it being worth something, but when it comes time to actually sell said things, they can’t part with them. They have a name for that. Hoarding.
As much as I appreciate the beauty of the Honda 305 Scrambler or the ’70 Dodge Charger, I can truly say that I am so much happier having owned and enjoyed them without the worry of damaging them or decreasing their value in some way. We rode hard and drove hard back then because we were living life. 8-track music blaring through cheap speakers or our Levi’s bell bottom pant leg chewed up from the chain of our motorcycles. It didn’t matter because we had a date that night!
As I was pumping my usual $12 worth of gas into my Heritage, a older gentleman walked over to me and floored me with the question “is it practical?”. He was driving the required older gentleman’s car, a Buick, which I have owned a few myself. I know the fuel economy of that wonderful engine, and it is nothing to dismiss. Usually when I get asked a question from a stanger at a gas station, it’s “where are you headed” or “how many miles to the gallon do you get”. But never “is it practical”.
So I thought about it and answered with “only if you ride it”. He continued about his love for motorcycles and how he wished he was still riding. I could see it in his eyes and he was very sincere in his words. We had a great talk and he was on his way as I was mine.
The ride home I couldn’t help but think of this exchange. The truth is there a cars that get as good of mileage as my motorcycle and yes, that would make them more practical. Enough to carry more than two people, cup holders, radio, storage, heat and conditioned air. Why didn’t I think of that? But I ride because I want to, not that I have to. I ride all year long as long as it’s not dangerous and saving gas is just a benefit. Most of my friends ride as recreation and wouldn’t think of riding the way I do, and that’s OK. They have their passions and I have mine. To me a boat doesn’t make sense but I don’t have any interest in that particular form of recreation. And that too is OK. But if you want to ride a motorcycle to save gas you have to ride it. A fair weather rider I’m not and I have the miles on my bike to show for it. Sixty degrees and a twenty percent chance of rain, will you ride? Probably. Forty degrees and a twenty percent chance of rain? I will. Most folks will look outside and say it’s just easier to take my coffee cup and jump in the car. It’s not convenient to ride for a lot of people, with dress clothes and laptops. I don’t have much hair, so helmet head isn’t an issue for me.
There are a lot of forms of transportation that are not practical. The distance to our destination comes into play as well as what we need to take with us. My saddle bags are full for any of you who have followed me, so apparently I have a lot of stuff I need to carry as well! I’m fortunate to be able to ride almost daily all year long. Some winters are worse than others but you know what I mean. If there is one point I want to make here is this. Be passionate about what you want in life. Bicycling, running, sports cars or boats. Enjoy your hobby as I enjoy mine! If you haven’t experienced riding a motorcycle or are curious about it, ask someone who does. Then someday it might be me that walks up to you and asks “is it practical?’
Jeff Maddox 