The author's Yamaha FZ-1. A few original parts remain.
For 48 years I was certain that I would never, ever ride a motorcycle. It was clearly dangerous, childish, and stupid. Did I mention dangerous?
Then began a curious chain of events. I moved from Seattle to Bainbridge Island and struggled to find a satisfactory way to commute on the Washington State Ferries. My new neighbor, Frank, insisted that a motorcycle was the only sane way to do it. I figured he was insane. But eventually Frank, frustration, and ferry crowds wore me down.
With Frank's help I bought a very used, very red Honda Helix scooter, perhaps the ugliest vehicle to ever roll on two wheels. I intended to ride just to the ferry and back. But you know, it was kind of fun.
Within 1000 miles I was smitten. Then obsessed. Then, well... stick a fork in me. I subscribed to every magazine. Signed up for all the catalogs. I couldn't talk about anything else. Hell, I couldn't think about anything else. My kids mocked me. My wife was afraid.
Of course, I had to find the ultimate bike. I traded my way through a Honda Reflex (inebriated late-night eBay purchase), Suzuki Bandit 600 (they forgot to install the torque), Suzuki V-Strom DL1000 (great personality, needs to diet), Yamaha FJR1300 (I still have burns on my thigh), and finally, a Yamaha FZ-1.
By then my wife had graduated from fear to anger. I tried to soothe her with a gift, but she seemed under whelmed by the First Gear jacket. Maybe I should have ponied up for leather.
Much of this may sound familiar to you. Whether you've ridden all your life, re-discovered riding when your kids got older, or found it as a refuge from $5 gas, chances are -- since you're reading this -- you're as whacked out about riding as I am.
So as I explore the friction zone of being Seattle's Motorcycle Examiner, know that I take the responsibility seriously. We may disagree about sport bike vs. cruiser, synthetic vs. dino oil, Cordura vs. leather, but we'll always agree on the passion.
Comments
Great read, Phil. Although not the die-hard rider you are, I can be considered "whacked out" and I do manage to put a few thousand on the odo each year.
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