For a biker age is always the enemy, no matter what age he or she is.
Just think back on the time when you were a teenager and just could not wait until you were of age and finally allowed to ride.
How can you passionately wait? Who can count the endless nights you lay in bed dreaming of your future bike?
Age is agony when you don’t have it.
Things get better in your twenties. With a driving license and a passion for bikes, you are as close to heaven as you ever will be. You take on the most impossible trips, ride in the most impossible conditions and simply believe it is absolutely and utterly impossible that you will ever get old.
You do and you do realize that in your thirties, but nor because you feel any less about riding or ceased dreaming about it. No. You cherish and polish but underneath the sparkly surface you begin to feel the pain. After you have lost the first friend on the road, you see that age is: age is what some people never have.
Which then, in your forties, makes you wonder about the things you don’t have but always wanted. This is, where the Harley kicks in, at least it was in my case. And you fulfill that dream because now, you can. Now you must, because if you don’t, it might be too late.
With a lot of people I know, age becomes awareness of being old when you have turned fifty. Some never stop talking about it. Others try to hide it by dressing like they did thirty years ago. Most just don’t ride anymore because they feel old: their eyes find it difficult to focus at close range, their backs hurt after two hours straight riding and cold, rainy weather makes their bones sore. Age kills will.
I talked to the guy today. He used to own my other bike, the customized Suzuki Intruder.
I sold her because I found her just too difficult to handle and I never did more than two, three hundred miles a year on her. I am 62 now I am too old for this so I bought a BMW. he said.
I am determined never to get that old!
In my head I never want to be as old as that. I shall never resign to a BMW.
A bike is not for comfort, it is an expression of who you are. I thought so In my twenties and I do think so still.
And I am NOT a BMW!