When I first started riding I remember what it was like. My first few weeks were awkward. I eventually got comfy with things. Learned more. I went through my squid phase and thinking I was a badass. I had close calls, I eventually got wise and stopped riding like a bat out of hell when I almost ended up in a swather.
I remember riding with a bunch of ass hat retards who taught me bad habits. One day I'll never forget, I went to visit my wife at the time at work. I walked in and a guy that was about my dad's age saw me walk in with my gear on and said "Hey, you ride huh?" and we talked bikes.
He saw I was on a 250. At first, I was embarrassed, I thought, oh hell he's gonna think I'm an idiot. On the contrary he said I was smart for starting small, and invited me on a ride.
I remember the first ride I went on. The first real ride I went on. Here I am in a group of 3. My friend jeff, my buddy ken. Ken was riding his Ducati. I will never forget it, I couldn't even hear my own bike over his insane exhaust noise. It was the most heavenly noise I had ever heard. I remember looking at the bike, hearing the bike, riding with them and going "I'm going to get a Ducati."
It was also at that moment that I made the first damn good friends that I would make that really cared about riding. Ken and his wife, and my buddy jeff.
From that point on, I went on a lot of group rides. I soaked it in. I was a sponge. These guys were a pool of knowledge and I was so eager to get into learn more and more. I was so enthralled by riding, so excited, I started oo2w. I won't ever forget it, we had so many people. People joined from all over. Shared the same interests. People wanted to help each other learn. It was something that for the first time in my life I felt really really solid about, really good inside.
Over the years, I kept riding with my friends. I upgraded to a Ducati 900SS (which I still love) and I met a lot of great people.
Of the friends I've met. The friends I've lost. The friends I've kept. And those who have kept me.... Jeff, Karen and his wife stuck with me through the thick and thin. Like a second family.
Over the years it has declined, the community got smaller. The economy took a hit on our local legendary shops. Some moved to other states and cities. This year, one of my friend's local Ducati dealer is on it's way out the door in June. He is probably the best damn bike mechanic I've ever met. I've looked up to him so much. They're planning on moving, and I won't see them anymore.
My friend jeff stopped riding. More people quit. More shops close. It's come crashing down. Even bike forums are so empty. So desolate. And those that are active talk more about politics and bullshit, than about the sport.
Indeed. The community has changed. The vigor, so drained. The motivation, so low.
Today I spoke to a longterm friend I met. He married me and my last wife. He's always been there for me, always lent an ear and his words. He's quite the wild child, but has always been a good friend.
I said "I think I may wanna sell my bikes. Get a 930. I'm on the fence."
We talked and talked.... and talked some more. About my frustrations, my disappointment and he said:
"Some people ride because other people ride and then they quit. Others ride to be cool. Other people ride because they think it's not risky and they're good at it. But I ride because I just enjoy riding. Every time I leather up I do it because I enjoy it. I can invite as many people on a ride but I expect no one to show up, and that's fine. I will still always ride for myself."
I looked back. Thought about it hard. I remember the first time I got on my Kawasaki Enduro and blasted through the street on my 2 stroke. I remember harassing my neighbors with the crazy noise. Maxing it out to it's whopping 50mph. Doing it with a smile on my face. Going through the banks and ditches with it. Enjoying the open road and going "I'm gonna get a real bike." and got my 250. I will never forget those first days on my 250. Riding by myself on the road, out and about, road to myself. Those twisties, those canyon roads. It brings me to a place of peace and self consolation. There's something to be said about a man and his car and how he's a part of it. It's another to be part of your bike, and the feeling you get moving through the road. It's something that has become a part of me. It can never be replaced.
Indeed. I ride because I enjoy it. To my friend who brought me back to realizing that.... thank you.
As to those who just don't get it and don't care...
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