Fire Breather

I grew up lusting over motorcycles.
Me being an only child, my mother would never agree to me having one. I believe it was my 15th birthday when I went to visit my uncle in Orlando that I saw a little 50cc Honda Aero sitting in the corner of his garage that I fell in love with. My mother is constantly looking over my well-being but as she saw my eyes light up, and it being my B-day, I knew I had her on the ropes. A week later I was riding around the complex in which we lived with my new-to-me little Honda. I beat the snot out of it and a couple months later I had a 250 for terrorizing the neighborhood. Had that bike for about a year and then went into a 10+ year moto-hibernation until I bought my ZX6R.

I was a kid back when I had my 50 and then the 250. It was all about the lust back then but now it's much more than that. With bills to pay and responsibilities not only to yourself but also to your family one tends to pay closer attention to the things that make one happy. Maybe it's a selfish nature that we all instinctively posses but I truly believe that Motorcycling is one of those things that no matter what you're going through in your personal life brings a freedom that is almost unparalleled to any other sport. The feeling that you know you can escape from everything that is going on around you and feel at peace.

I went to visit a physical therapist for the first time for the back injury I had 2 years ago. When I explained to him that I was involved in a motorcycle accident he was quick to inform me that bikes are "suicide machines" and that his son had bought one and he had torched it for his own good. As I pondered getting up from the chair and getting a different doctor, I thought to myself: this is something that he will never understand no matter what I tell him. I could've tried to explain to him how I always use proper protective gear and how I’m constantly honing my riding skills doing parking lot practice and reading about how to properly operate a bike to minimize the risk of an accident but it would've been useless. So I stopped his rant, looked him dead in the eyes and told him that there was no way that I was going to stop riding my bike so he should get off of the subject. Just thinking about not riding was getting me quite upset.

I can somewhat understand the train of thought of someone that is not involved in the world of riding. On the outside peering in it would seem like we are a bunch of fire breathing fools that have no fear and regard life as a joke. They could not be any farther from reality. How can something, which brings so much joy and brings you so close to nature, be viewed as a bad thing?

Having 2 children I have no doubt that they will bring me plenty of joy for years to come. I will want to shelter them just as much as my mother used to and still does to this day and just as much as my doctor sheltered his son by torching his bike. The difference will be that the day that
I see that gleam in their eyes for something which brings out a passion in them I will remember days like these and be happy for them. And that only people like us “fire breathing fools” will be able understand.