Motorcycles

Motorcycles

My first motorcycle, in fact my first brand new vehicle of any kind, was a 1980 Kawasaki KZ550. I’d owned several old used cars but this was my first new purchase. One my dad helped me with by co-signing the loan.

The first time I saw this bike was in an ad in Cycle World. It was the standard model painted black with blue and red pinstripes around the perimeter of the tank and rear section. It had one disk brake in front and a drum brake in the rear. Cast wheels. The front fender was chrome along with the four into two exhaust pipe. It was the fastest 550 you could buy in 1980. It was love at first site.

You see, for me, motorcycles are all about emotion. They are never just transportation. Motorcycles need to call to my soul. They need to promise a journey. A journey of discovery, great times, great memories. Scenery, speed, flow. Warm sunny afternoons with the smells of flowers, trees, farms, flowing valleys and rivers, waves crashing on rocky shores, cool mountain passes. The sounds of rustling leaves, dogs barking, tractors, buggies, folks talking and big trucks. The smells of the city, a country road passing by fruit trees, flowers, tall pines, those ever present farms and the sweet scents of clear mountain air. The bright fall leaves swirling on the road as the wind and motorcycle pass by.

These are the things I searched for, that I hoped were promised, when I found that bike that touched my soul. That KZ550 from long ago.

Being a “first” bike, there were, of course, a lot firsts. Things like a face full of bugs, bugs that felt like bullets, the perfect shift, the perfect corner. Rain. Knowing every single spot that was extra cold on my way to work on a chilly mornings. Taking girlfriends for rides on romantic afternoons. The difference between a good passenger and a bad one. That perfect road on a sunny warm fall day. Group rides with friends and long discussions about the pros and cons of the bikes we were riding and the bikes we would like to ride.

Finally, these journeys, these motorcycle journeys, often included meeting new friends over a conversation at some remote gas station or some such place, discussing a long ago bike, the weather or the road.

The KZ taught me the journey, taught me to explore, to take the road less traveled or at least the road I hadn’t traveled on. It was always the first time I had answer to “I wonder where that road goes.”

I explored many, many roads on that bike and on many subsequent bikes. They have all touched my soul in one way or another. There have been years when I didn’t have a motorcycle and I found I didn’t explore, or at least not as much. Something was missing. That sense of freedom that only two wheels can supply.

The last few years have been this way, “between bikes”. It looks like that is about to change. Will this new bike touch my soul like my first one did so many years ago. I think it will, I hope it will. I look forward to the journeys yet to come, the roads less travelled. I look forward to those perfect, warm, sunny fall afternoons where the bike, the road and I become one.