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Sunday, May 18

That time of year

by Mike on Sun 18 May 2008 10:16 PM EDT

I used to have a motorcycle. Back in the summer of '99, I used a little bit of spare cash to buy a 1972 Honda 350. I had no experience riding and I had never learned to drive a stick shift, so I had a bit of a learning curve ahead of me. After I got my temporary permit, I enrolled in a "beginner's" class in motorcycle operation and safety at a nearby Honda plant. Turns out I was the only "beginner" in the class though, as pretty much everyone else in attendance had been riding ever since their childhoods. They were just taking the class looking for some "tips" or whatever. I completed the classroom course, but I quit the driving portion of the course halfway through the day after getting really frustrated with my classmates and instructors. The last straw for the day was when an instructor reached over and killed my bike's ignition after I had completed a lap around the course. I guess in his opinion, I had taken too long to turn the bike off (it was a Honda 150 and I wasn't really familiar with the controls), but as I was trying to remember the process to cut the engine, the guy just did it for me and the bike lurched, almost knocking me over with the bike. That was just enough for me.

I spent some time that summer learning the feel of the bike for myself. When K. was born that September, I took several weeks of paternity leave and I had some fun riding around our neighborhood during K.'s nap times. Truth be told, I never went more than a few miles from home on the bike, but it was a really fun time. I stored the bike that winter and I knew it would need some work come spring. Sure enough, when the weather broke, the bike would not start and it was in need of some significant repair. I took it to a local mechanic who was happy to take a $150 deposit for his promise to fix the bike. Instead, he tore it apart and then let it sit for a few weeks before deciding that he either couldn't or wouldn't fix it. When I asked him if I could have my deposit back, he said that he would give me the $150 back, but that the bike would come back to me in pieces. So I had to give up my deposit if I wanted the bike to be reassembled. When I finally got it back, it was even in worse shape. The electrical system was shot and other things didn't fit or work properly at all. That was it. We didn't have the time or money to do much more. I ended up selling the bike (at a net loss) to a guy who stripped old bikes to make new, "cannibalized" bikes. It was unfortunate. Some years later, I was watching the local news one night and I saw that the same mechanic who had destroyed my bike had been indicted for racketeering. That was a good day.

Every year around this time, I pine for that bike and think about the few good months I had with it. Maybe someday I'll get another chance to run the road.