Why I ride.

I wrote this a few years ago when the Beemer club requested an article from member about why they ride:

Why I Ride.
I was introduced to motorcycles late in life, I was eighteen. Being a car guy my interest was in four wheels and a big V8 not some kids thing with a 500cc (whatever that was) one cylinder motor. My introduction came in the form of a 1952 Harley ex-police bike that a friend convinced me to buy at auction in Jersey City for the sum of $75. Panhead, rigid frame, tank shift and kick start it wasn’t pretty put with some prodding and pushing it sometimes started. Back then all you needed to ride a motorcycle was a motorcycle, regular drivers license, state insurance ($15) and gas money (32 cents per gallon for hi-test). Fast learning curve back then, as the only person I knew that rode a bike had slightly more experience than me, and that was nothing. That old Harley tried to kill me on various occasions that summer but I can’t blame the bike, it was old and tired and I was young and inexperienced. Safety equipment consisted of a pair of jeans, leather gloves and jacket, heavy boots and wrap around Polaroid glasses. After three rather spectacular accidents (I still have the scars) I swore I would never ride one of those things again and gave the bike away. I never rode another Harley.
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The next summer (1962) a friend rode up on a bike and I recounted my tale of woe about the Harley, he countered with; I should ride a real motorcycle. After a quick lesson about the foot shift and hand clutch I threw my leg over his early 50s BSA Gold Star and I was hooked for life, I would have at least one road ready bike in the garage for the rest of my life (so far). It accelerated like a rocket, went around turns like it was on tracks and stopped on a dime (all relative to the Harley). The summer of 1962 I did my first ton on two wheels riding that BSA on Rt9 in Alpine,NJ. Shortly after, I bought a BSA B33, not a Gold Star but with 40 thousands shaved off the head, a Bates Megaphone and a velocity stack on the Amal carb it ran OK and sounded a lot faster than it was. I rode the bike occasionally but I was still mostly a car guy involved with Hot Roding and Drag racing.
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Three years in the service and they sent me to Germany. We weren’t allowed to ride motorcycles but I used to swap with a German friend (he got my Mercedes, I got a 175cc Zundapp)) and ride the back roads. I was lucky I never was stopped.
When I got out it was right to the BSA dealer for a new 1969 Thunderbolt. My best friend got out a week later and bought a new Triumph. Having no responsibilities or jobs, but mustering out pay from the Army and Federal unemployment compensation, we broke the bikes in with a trip to Canada and a run through New England. In stark difference to how motorcyclists are treated today, we couldn’t get into a motel or campground being told there were no vacancies even when the parking lots were empty. I should mention the bikes were completely stock, we were fairly well dressed had short (GI) haircuts and had money to spend but we were still turned away. We resolved the problem by calling ahead for reservations, usually from across the street.
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What followed was the typical late 60s early 70s motorcycle scene. Choppers, gangs, night rides under the influence of something and a brief foray into motorcycle racing. Rode my bike to Woodstock alone because no one wanted to go, lesson learned – I never wait for someone to ride with me, riding alone is no problem, if I want to go and see something and can’t find a riding partner I pack up and go. Got married and moved down the shore which likely saved my life, most of the guys I rode with didn’t fare well. Explained to the Bride to be that I always intended to have a bike and she had (and still has) no problem with that. She did however once mention to me that maybe seven was a little excessive so I cut back to five. She also has the reins firmly in hand to pull me back a little when I get out of hand, but also lets me roam free and often doesn’t even know what State I’m in.
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BSA sadly goes out of business in the late 70s and I move to Guzzi. Life, four kids, college tuition, etc, etc forces me occasionally down to one bike in the garage but I still make Laconia, Daytona and a few weekend rides most years. A co-worker (BMW rider) asks me to go to a rally in the early 80s, I have no idea what that is, and coming from the gang culture I’m amazed that the cops will allow 200+ motorcyclists to gather in one spot without heavy police oversight. That was a Dutch County Riders rally in Harrisburg, Pa and was my introduction to the world of Beemer rallies. Following were years (decades) of Guzzi and Beemer rallies and dozens of friends that are now more like family. Somehow a XL250 Honda found its way into my garage and I spent many hours exploring the Jersey Pine Barrens, pre-GPS and cell phone I usually had no idea where I was and no way to get help if I had a problem. After a few interesting ‘get offs’ I came to the realization that I have absolutely no discipline in the dirt. Promises that I would ‘take it easy’ usually were cast aside when the front tire hit the dirt. In my mid-fifties I decided crashing around in the dirt wasn’t a good idea and the little Honda found a new home Retirement comes and sadly Guzzi doesn’t have a machine that fits my needs so I have to go to BMW. I had a Beemer for a few decades as a backup bike but never needed it as the Goose was always rock solid, now I no longer have one in the garage (Guzzi) although the Marque and people will always have a place in my heart. If a Beemer rally conflicts with a Guzzi rally the Guzzi rally usually wins.
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Lately I’ve stopped going to Laconia and Daytona, with the influx of new ‘bikers’ the fun is gone and both rallies have become just a show for people playing make-believe and displaying how much money they can throw away on a motorcycle. Imagine a Disneyland for bikers. I’ve only done Sturgis twice but I imagine it’s the same now. I maintain membership in a local BMW club to show support for the marquee on a local level, but most of my riding is done alone to a destination where I meet old friends. I also belong to the local Guzzi club and two BMW clubs in Pennsylvania, one I’ve been a member for over three decades from Western Pa. and the other is a riding and camping type Beemer club out of northeast Pa.
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As to why I ride. I hear people talking of the metaphysical, intellectual and cerebral aspect of motorcycling and I wonder what the hell they are talking about. For me it’s all visceral, the noise, the speed, the dotted white line turning into a solid line as the speed goes up, and the adrenaline pump when you go through a series of twisties 10 MPH faster than you should have. It’s riding right up to the edge that no one comes back from, and staying just on this side of that deadly boundary. It’s the morning sun warming your back as you head West on a crisp Spring morning, or having one beer too many on a hot summer night with old friends, then riding your machine a few hundred highway miles under a crystal-clear summer night sky (with half a buzz on) with all the stars looking down at you, and pulling into the driveway as dawn is breaking.
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ED: I have to add that after 50 years I figured Harley might have improved so I gave them another chance. Early 2017 I bought a few year old Sportster 883, the price was right, it was in nice shape and I figured - why not. A friend described the Sportsters as ‘strangely satisfying’ and that about sums it up. Not a cross Country bike or a machine to tear up the Dragon. however it is a nice ride on a hot summer night or when just riding around town to waste time.

ED 2; The Sporty didn’t survive an encounter with a few deer out in Tabernacle Township on the way to an ice cream meeting. I did (the bones healed almost perfectly, kind of), but I think that might be the last Harley (maybe).)

Thanks for sharing Harry. Caused me to think about my phases of bike ownership over the 52 years I've been riding. I could write a page or two on each bike but here’s the relatively short version:

I the first bike I recall seeing was my neighbors boyfriend's BSA 441 Victor Special when I was maybe 7 or 8 years old. The shiny yellow bike came thumping down their driveway and I got a good look at it, along with my first "don't touch - it's hot!" warning. Roaring out the drive and up the street sealed it in my memory forever.

Possibly inspired by my buying Cycle and Cycle World magazines, and persistent questioning about motorcycles, my father brought home a Honda 305 CL72 later that summer. Had my first ride on that bike and quickly burned the inside of my thigh on the high pipes as the heat shield didn't go back enough to protect short-legged pillions.

When I turned 14, my father told me to give him $100 from my lawn mowing savings if I wanted a surprise. Kinda suspecting what he had in mind I agreed and that weekend he calls me outside to help pull a Kawasaki 175. I'd push it up to the top of the driveway then coast down until I finally got the hang of using the clutch in my uncle's field a few weeks later. This started the early phase of my motorcycle riding where I bought successively better dirt bikes until settling on a Sachs 125 with the leading link forks. Rode that all over western NJ, did a few enduros, and even on the road once I got my license. I didn't know anything about ADV riding  - hadn't been invented yet I suppose - but I'd go riding for a day or weekend, seeking out everything from dirt roads to single track and everything in between. The joy of exploring was both freeing and peaceful but at the same time, also a rush as you new knew what was around the next bend or over that hill. As college approached and money was tight, I sold the bike and was without one for the next 5 years or so.

Phase 2 started after college when I got my first big-boy job at Western Electric in Newark. First on the list was a Kawasaki H1, 500cc project bike in shit-brown. I got it running well enough to also turn my underpants shit-brown and sold it, having started our family at that point. I rode some friends bikes for a while but didn't own another until my father decided he was done riding and sold (really gave) me his '73 CB500-4. Rode that to work and around town on occasion but with kids, didn't do that many miles. That said, it was enough riding to rekindle the joy and adventure of my teen years. Time didn't permit a full-blown passion to bloom but it was fun none the less.

The next riding phase saw me getting back into motorcycling in a big way. Kids were older and money not as tight. I upgraded the old CB for a series of bikes I used for fun and commuting to work on a regular basis. Commuters included a Suzuki VX800 and Bandit 1100. Fun was found on a Hawk GT, CB400F and an XR-250. Kids were also riding dirt bikes and quads so we'd go for local trail rides and also out to PA. Also got into some touring with my wife on a older 1100 Goldwing and then a K1200LT we named Shamu for it's whale-like proportions and weight. Problem is that kids got old enough for college, I had started a new business after being laid-off, and in a repeat of 1975, I sold everything to pay for college and life. I really missed riding but it wasn't a high enough priority and there just wasn't time working 60+ hour weeks.

That brings me to the current, Guzzi phase. The motorcycle itch came back after 8 years or so. With the kids out of college and an improved cash flow from a new corporate gig with Verizon I decided to get another bike. Wanted something relaxed but still fun to ride that wasn’t a typical cruiser. Read an interesting comparison test of cruisers in motorcycle.com where they talked about this ‘little’ bike that was full of character but didn’t fit the touring cruiser mold – the MG EV Touring. Local bike shop happened to have one for sale really cheap so I bought it on the spot, riding it home on a 35 degree January day. Met this crew about the same time and found I really enjoyed being part of the Guzzi family. Many of you already know this but I went through a series of different models before settling on the current V85TT which I think is my 20th bike. Still loving it 3 years into ownership and am looking forward to logging many more miles per week after I retire in January.

Oh, and why do I ride? I guess it's the balance of engagement, sensory experience and entertainment one can only find on a motorcycle. Your senses are engaged at multiple levels in a way that's unique to other types of sport. People speak about the freedom of being 'in the moment' and nothing makes that happen for me better than a ride. Focused enough to forget about all the crap and worries of life while still relaxed enough to take in all the sights, sounds, smells and physics of operating a motorcycle. 95% of the time I come back from a ride feeling refreshed and peaceful. Hard to beat that.