Ride With Tank

I went out this afternoon to see the USAF Thunderbirds who were performing at Thunder over the Valley.

That’s not what this post is about, but if you want to see some pictures click here.

What this post is about is an gentleman I met and talked to as I was getting on my bike.

It was very hot and all I wanted to do was get on the bike and get some wind blowing on me when a older guy walked over and said, “You must be good people if you ride a motorcycle.” He had just finished helping his wife into the car and came over to talk to me.

I got the usual “I used to ride” talk from him, but this time it was different. Usually when you hear this the intent of the person is to establish that he is/was a rider and it is kind of like they are trying to impress me. I was not in the mood for this because it was just too hot standing there in the sun, but this guy was very different. There was a look in this guys eye that told me he loved riding motorcycles. He told me about the first time his wife rode on the back with him and how he almost crashed because he was not expecting it to wheelie so easily. He talked about some of the bikes he had owned and the whole time he was talking you could see he was reliving those days in his mind. He wasn’t telling me this to impress me or even for my own enjoyment. He was telling me this because he HAD to tell me this. There is probably no sense in telling these stories to most of the people he knows because they really would not understand, and if he finds someone who understands it is probably impossible for him to not talk about the old days.

He said that when he turned 80 he was no longer able to get his leg over the motorcycle so he switched to a scooter. Eventually, even the scooter became too difficult for him to manage and he was forced to give that up as well. As he told me this he was looking at my motorcycle and I could actually feel how much he missed riding. He was not admiring my motorcycle – he was yearning to be able to ride a motorcycle again. He did not appear sad, but it saddened me to the core.

I told him he should get a three wheeled scooter and get back on the road. He said “Yes, that would be a good idea”, but I could see he only said that to be polite. His riding days are over.

I have been thinking about our conversation all day and I think I understand why he was not sad. All things eventually come to an end, and his riding days are over. Even though his riding days are over, he still has the memory of all the adventures he had for so many years, and every once in a while he runs into someone who understands and gets to relive those memories again.

Lets get out there and make some memories while we still can.