I’ve just finished reading Hogrider Dookes’ latest blog where he outlines a dilemma facing his best mate, Mr G.
Mr. G is recovering from serious injuries received when he was hit by a moror vehicle whilst riding his beloved motorcycle.
During Mr G’s early recovery phase apparently he gave serious consideration to abandoning two wheel and turning to sports cars as an alternative. However, as his recovery accelerates his thoughts have returned positively to the world of two wheels. So much so that recently Dookes accompanied him to a local motorbike dealer where Mr G test sat bike after bike. His dilemma, what brand, size and style will suit him best when the time comes to venture back on the road astride a motor cycle.
Reading of Mr G’s dilemma reminded me that he is not alone in facing these decisions.
On my 6oth birthday down in the pub, I recall a much older mate saying to me,’ Getting old isn’t for sissies!’ Seemed a rather inane thing to say and we all laughed.
Seventeen years have passed since then and my old mate is now in motor cyclists’ heaven. However, I no longer think that his comment all those years ago was far from the mark.
This brings me Mr G’s dilemma. I’ve been down a similar path, not through injury.
Harley Davidsons have been part of my life for more years than I care to remember and I’ve enough Harley T Shirts to start my own retail clothing store, not to mention Harley boots, Harley caps, Harley helmets, Harley gloves, Harley spare parts, Harley oils and Harley cleaning gear etc. The list goes on and on.
Here is my current pride and joy, a 2014 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail Classic.
The unfortunate part of my yarn is that this beautiful piece of modern motorcycle art spends almost all of its time in the shed attached to a battery charger and not out on the open road, attached to my bum.
The reason is quite simple.
In 2014 I was diagnosed with cancer. Underwent radical surgery, all went well and I’m now in remision. A cancer diagnosis brings you back to reality with a thud I can tell you.
Since then I’ve been through numerous minor surgical procedures, not life threatening but scary never the less.
The funny thing is that almost every medico I’ve seen in recent years has suggested, quite bluntly, that the place for the Harley is on the market, not on the road with me in the saddle.
As a result, my desire to ride waxes and wanes on a daly basis and I decline, politely of course, invitatiions to go riding with my mates. The desire seems to be discipating ever so gradually.
Now a month or so back I finally decided that the Harley had to go and its replacement was to be a Mazda MX5 sports car. Red of course. What a dream. Crashed to earth heavily when in the showroom SWMBO and I discovered to our horror that we couldn’t fit in the bloody thing.
Back to the drawing board. Two wheels are back in with a vengence.
Since that day I’ve been to every motor cycle dealer within cooee and I’ve kicked every tyre imaginable looking for a motor bike that weighs in under 327 kilos(732.48 lbs) unladen, fits my body shape and is kind to two bung knees.
The result has been in the negative without exception.
That brings me back to the dilemma I share with Mr G. Two wheels or not two wheels? That is the question. Apologies to The Bard of course.
Hoo roo for now.