There are only two kinds of people in the world. Those who never got over the thrill and adrenaline rush of being turned loose for the first time on two wheels, and those who also mastered it, but said/felt ‘meh’. I fall into the former category.
My dad would never allow me to have a motorcycle when I lived at home. “They are too dangerous” he would say. It was a bit hard to buy that since he had had a Harley for a few years when I was very young. So as soon as I got away, by joining the Air Force in 1975, and scraped together enough dough, I bought a brand new Honda CB360T. That was 1976 near Riverside, Ca. Flash forward a few years later, I was just discharged and discovered there didn’t seem to be an easy way to ship the bike home to Miami, FL. So I strapped my backpack to the sissy bar, and rode 12-16 hours a day, for 3.75 days from near Los Angeles, to Miami. No windshield, no cruise control or throttle lock, my technical riding gear consisted of my dad’s old HD leather jacket with a North Face down vest underneath, boots were by Air Force issued leather combat boots. It was one of the best trips of my young life. I was hooked.
Within a few months of being home, I sold the 360 and bought a new 1977 Honda CB750F. I hated the pale yellow color, but as would happened many times in my life, settled on a color I did not like, because a larger discount was offered. The year and half I owned could be succinctly described by the following sentence.
After the 3rd accident, all of which were 100% the automobile driver’s fault. I sold the 750.
Then LIFE happened. New job, marriage, kids and in two blinks of an eye I went from being one of the young bucks on the Miami Fire/Rescue Department, to one of the old veterans. The marriage didn’t make it for the long haul (I’ve heard odds of that are 50/50). Flash forward again, I met an amazing woman on a business trip to Salt Lake City, dated long distance around 6 years, finally retired from the Miami Fire/Rescue Dept. after 29 years, and moved to Utah. Then did something I swore I’d never do again. Got married.
Throughout the entire “LIFE” part of this long winded story, my best friend (who was the person responsible for my becoming a fireman) nagged me incessantly to get a motorcycle and go on road trips. The urge to ride motorcycles (like bicycles) never left me. The last step of completely moving to Utah, was selling my condo in Fort Lauderdale. I had accumulated some equity and after selling it, found myself with a bank account that had enough money to buy a motorcycle. Emptying out the bank account over the course of a year or so netted 3 BMW motorcycles. (I admit I have impulse issues when it comes to buying motorcycles)
I now look forward to taking as many road trips as possible. I want to explore the great open west and points south and north. I became a member of the Beehive Beemers to make new friends who could join me on these adventures. I hope you will be able to join me on one of them.