Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Ridin’ with big d
In my last column I reminisced about the dirt bikes I had as a kid growing up and closed by saying I’d talk about my street bikes in this edition.
So, here we go.
My love of motorcycles comes from my dad who has always been very generous when it comes to sharing his toys. He’s had them all and says he’s never ridden one he didn’t like. He’s been the president of the largest BMW motorcycle club, so I’ve tried the tech-y Beemers with heated grips and electronic windscreens; he’s had a number of Harleys so I’ve had the thrill of riding a rumbling Heritage Softail and an all black-and-chrome Wide Glide; he’s had touring bikes so I’ve enjoyed the comfort and full gadgetry of the Honda Gold Wing and the Harley-Davidson Ultra Classic; and there have been a number of bikes in between. Whatever he had, he always gave us carte blanche to ride them and he often kept more than one motorcycle at a time, which I suspect was on purpose so we could ride together.
I got my first street bike when I was 22. A guy I worked with was selling a Yamaha Virago 750 and he wanted just enough to get a down payment together for a Harley. I bought the bike and quickly figured out that as much as I enjoyed riding, none of my other friends rode, so I wasn’t spending a lot of time on it. I ended up letting it winter in Florida with my dad who had a Gold Wing at the time. He enjoyed riding the lighter more nimble 750 around town so he probably put more miles on it than I did. I tried to sell it to him, but he declined. I think he was trying to teach me a lesson since he tried to tell me not to buy it in the first place. He wasn’t opposed to me having a motorcycle, just to me buying one I couldn’t afford at the time. Ultimately, I ended up selling it for a profit and he ended up paying more than that for one just like it not long after. It was one of the few times in a young man’s life where I felt like I outfoxed the old man, but there was never any animosity. I was glad to have been able to repay his generosity by leaving it with him for a while to enjoy the way he let us ride his motorcycles.
I went a long time without a motorcycle, but always planned to get a Harley. When I was dating Sissy, now my wife, we visited my parents and my dad let us take his Ultra Classic out for a spin. From the back seat Sissy said, “This would be a cool way to travel around and see the country.” I knew I found a keeper and after we married we decided to get a Harley and travel the U.S. once the kids were grown. As they became teenagers they began doing their own thing and we started wondering what we were waiting for. They weren’t out of the house as we’d planned, but they certainly weren’t tying us down. (At least that was my argument.) Sissy said we “could just go look” at the Harley dealer that weekend and by that Monday I was riding home on Chili Dawg, our 2001 H-D Road King Classic. We still have Chili and I don’t have any plans to get rid of this one, especially since we managed to pay it off last year. We have been able to travel as planned. We’ve ridden together to the rallies in Charleston, Sturgis, S.D., and Laconia, N.H.; to ride Deal’s Gap in North Carolina; and to participate in the Rolling Thunder ride in D.C.
After reading my last column about the bikes we grew up on, my dad sent me an e-mail saying a big reason we grew up riding was that he wanted an activity we could share as a family. It really worked because most of the travelling I mentioned above included my parents. My brother Mark went with us on the trip to Laconia and has taken some great trips with my dad out West; and my brother Ron rode the Tail of the Dragon with us on the trip to Deal’s Gap I mentioned and still rides with my dad on the weekends. There have also been countless trips to Bike Week in Daytona Beach, Fla., that served as a reunion of sorts for my dad and his sons, which included one trip where two of his grandsons came along and we rode together, three generations on two wheels down Main Street in Daytona during Bike Week. Pretty cool.
This column is dedicated to my dad Billy, or Big D (for Dad) as I like to call him when we’re talking motorcycles.
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Click here for previous Ridin' with Big E columns