adventurelounger
Active Member
I sort of inadvertently hijacked another thread about "S" vs "T" modes, so thought I'd post this here. It's something I think about a lot, certainly every time I swing a leg over my S10. I'm sure others do, too.
My (late) father was a doctor. I grew up around an ER. Motorcycles were considered irredeemable death machines in my household, as my Dad often saw the unfortunate human upshot of stupidity, daring, recklessness, or dumb bad luck.
Nevertheless, I was two-wheel obsessed from the start, craving the Rupp Toad minibikes and Honda Trail CT70's I'd see—and salivate over—in the pages of Boy's Life magazine. Seventies motoporn advertising for kids.
It took until college for me to answer the call and buy myself an entry-level drug, a 1984 Honda Aero 70 scooter. I freaking loved it, despite the fact that it was hardly the ideal vehicle for winters in Burlington, VT.
Later in life, I bought a Vespa...then a couple of BMWs...and now the SuperT. I ride MOSTLY ATGATT, but do cheat around town, although I always wear a full face helmet and riding gloves (I fall down in the boot department). When I actually go "riding-riding," it's armor everywhere. White full face helmet. Moto boots. The full kit.
Here's the thing: I have 3 middle/high school-aged kids and a wonderful wife, who ABHORS my riding habit. Because she'd abhor something happening to me. I'd also hate to have a life-altering accident, too.
And if my teenaged, driving-age son wanted to get a bike now (or any time before he was into his 30s and in touch with the idea of risk), I'd kill him or disown him, as hypocritical as that may sound.
At the same time, my wife knows how profoundly I love riding, the deep satisfaction and balance and joy it gives me. I blog about it. Dream about. Talk about it. And absolutely obviously love it.
Still, I feel like I'm riding 2 up with mortality on the back seat, which I've finally come to think is a healthy and self-preserving thing. I ride while narrating to myself and thinking about what COULD go wrong, so I can anticipate and avoid it. In fact, I try to do as much of my riding at times and in places as far away from cars and traffic as I can, so I'm the one controlling my own destiny. Obviously, you can't avoid everything. But I try hard to limit and mitigate risk.
I've settled on this (which FrontRangeRider mentioned):
I'm 50. Besides my family (and several other passions like skiing, cycling, and books), riding is a true love of mine. The list of medical maladies that might await my otherwise healthy, middle-aged ass is long and joyless.
So I'm going to seize the joy, ride with care, and be deeply grateful.
Mortality, please hold on tightly, and lean with me. I want you to get home safe, too.
My (late) father was a doctor. I grew up around an ER. Motorcycles were considered irredeemable death machines in my household, as my Dad often saw the unfortunate human upshot of stupidity, daring, recklessness, or dumb bad luck.
Nevertheless, I was two-wheel obsessed from the start, craving the Rupp Toad minibikes and Honda Trail CT70's I'd see—and salivate over—in the pages of Boy's Life magazine. Seventies motoporn advertising for kids.
It took until college for me to answer the call and buy myself an entry-level drug, a 1984 Honda Aero 70 scooter. I freaking loved it, despite the fact that it was hardly the ideal vehicle for winters in Burlington, VT.
Later in life, I bought a Vespa...then a couple of BMWs...and now the SuperT. I ride MOSTLY ATGATT, but do cheat around town, although I always wear a full face helmet and riding gloves (I fall down in the boot department). When I actually go "riding-riding," it's armor everywhere. White full face helmet. Moto boots. The full kit.
Here's the thing: I have 3 middle/high school-aged kids and a wonderful wife, who ABHORS my riding habit. Because she'd abhor something happening to me. I'd also hate to have a life-altering accident, too.
And if my teenaged, driving-age son wanted to get a bike now (or any time before he was into his 30s and in touch with the idea of risk), I'd kill him or disown him, as hypocritical as that may sound.
At the same time, my wife knows how profoundly I love riding, the deep satisfaction and balance and joy it gives me. I blog about it. Dream about. Talk about it. And absolutely obviously love it.
Still, I feel like I'm riding 2 up with mortality on the back seat, which I've finally come to think is a healthy and self-preserving thing. I ride while narrating to myself and thinking about what COULD go wrong, so I can anticipate and avoid it. In fact, I try to do as much of my riding at times and in places as far away from cars and traffic as I can, so I'm the one controlling my own destiny. Obviously, you can't avoid everything. But I try hard to limit and mitigate risk.
I've settled on this (which FrontRangeRider mentioned):
I'm 50. Besides my family (and several other passions like skiing, cycling, and books), riding is a true love of mine. The list of medical maladies that might await my otherwise healthy, middle-aged ass is long and joyless.
So I'm going to seize the joy, ride with care, and be deeply grateful.
Mortality, please hold on tightly, and lean with me. I want you to get home safe, too.