Why do I ride?
I started out riding simply because I was told not to and I knew it would be an adventure.
Ever since my brother and I, as kids built a ramp for our bicycles, and then lit it on fire just to be like Evel Knievel, I knew two wheels and adventure were going to be part of my life. And thankfully, two wheels have continued to provide adventure to this day.
Whether it was the time I hauled four of my buddies on their skateboards hanging from the bullet-style blinkers of my Suzuki FA-50, or the time I took my Dad’s sleek black Harley Heritage Soft Tail Classic down the Natchez Trace Parkway to Mississippi for my 23rd birthday, or every year our group of friends descend on the Tail of the Dragon and get in way too much trouble, each and every adventure is memorable and defining.
In my family I started out riding first, the youngest of three siblings. I would secretly borrow friend’s bikes or catch a ride here and there up through high school until one day my Mom bought my Dad a Harley 883 Sportster. She was the rebellious one in the family and my Dad was too nervous to ride it. So naturally I had to ride it around for him (which is also how my love for v-twin motors started).
Eventually my Dad grew jealous of me using his bike and he went full swing into motorcycles buying several different bikes and joining the Iron Butt Riders Association. He made all sorts of timed trips including a 30-day run from Florida to Alaska and a 100-hour trip from the East coast to the West and back again. Having found his adventure, the passion for bikes then went to my oldest brother. He adopted one of my Dad’s old Suzuki V-Stroms as a daily driver and began his two-wheeled career as well.
Even now, I find something new every time I go out on my Aprilia RSVR (yes, a v-twin). It may be a new facet of riding or skill, a new friend, an old friend with a new story, a new road, or simply a new way to take an old road I’ve ridden a thousand times. Riding, still provides the adventure.