In my early twenties I married and started a family — it changed my whole lifestyle, especially where motorcycles were concerned. I went from choppers to trail bikes. Not many stories worth telling from that stretch, but my kids loved them. Every once in a while I'd pick up a big bike, a Honda CB 350, ride it a while, then sell it off when the family needed the money instead.
That went on for about twenty years, until my marriage ended in divorce. Doesn't matter who you are — that's a tough thing to go through. I swore I'd never get married again, swore off girls entirely. I made it six days from the day the divorce was finalized, which itself takes a long time.
My new girlfriend, it turned out, had been through her own disappointments and made herself the same promise.
While we were dating, I bought a little Yamaha Vision 550, and we rode all over the Portland area together. She was up for it any time I asked — until shortly after we got married, when she told me she really didn't care for motorcycles, but that I was welcome to ride them all I wanted.
At fifty-two I had a major heart attack, and decided to walk away from the high-stress life I'd been living. We packed up and moved to a retirement community in Arizona.
I was reading the local paper one day and spotted an ad for a basket-case KZ 1000 Kawasaki. Bought it, put it back together, rode it for a while — and it whet my whistle for motorcycling again in a big way.
I'd started a handyman business by then, just to stay busy and pick up some spending money. On one of the houses I was flipping, I needed tile work done, and the guy doing it wanted to trade the labor for my KZ. We made the deal, and just like that I was bikeless again.