Hey fellow riders,
On this, my 49th year of motorcycling, I sit pondering upon the large list of motorcycling friends that I have all over the USA. I truly believe that each and every one of you are SCOOTER TRASH, and oh, how I love scooter trash. ST are a special breed of people who see life in a completely different way. But I have also noticed that about 10% of the ST are what I’d call hard-core ST. I think that I probably fall into the 10% and believe that the following poem permeates to the core of the 10%---my feelings on paper.
I LOVE TO RIDE By Robert E Lee
The feel of the engine between my feet
The wind in my face
The smells of the road and countryside
The sensation of speed as the asphalt glides by
The sight of my fellow riders leaning into the turns
The sense of danger, either perceived or real
The fellowship shared with other riders
The envious look from the mini-van driver as I pull up next to him
The solitude
The responsibility
As I prepared to depart on a trip, my non-rider friend asked, “How can you go when the temp is 56 and light rain?” I pondered this question as I cruised down the highway in the rain, and thought, how could I not go? This is the most
relaxed that I’ve been in days, I thought—just me, the Lord, and my bike rumbling below me.
Motorcycling is a very personal thing, it stirs the soul in a multitude of ways. I have been so lucky to have the opportunity to have so many of my emotions stirred by this beast called a bike, a scooter, a motorcycle. It has exercised the emotions of:
EXCITEMENT—each time I ride off
PHYSICAL PAIN—each time I fall off
MENTAL PAIN—each time I see a rider down (and some never got up again)
FEAR—for that deer or car just barely missed
SOLITUDE—each time I see nothing but highway in front of me
JOY—as we gather around the table to tell our stories
DISAPPOINTMENT—if for some reason the bike doesn’t start
In a two-part interview done by Cycle News 38 years ago, I told the reporter: “Every time that I get on a motorcycle I grin inside. When I get depressed or sick, all I want to do is get on a motorcycle, because it will make me feel better. I’ve been that way since I was 11 years old.”
To this day when I’m feeling low and full of the blues, my precious wife packs me a sack lunch, puts me on my bike, and says “take a long ride.” Nothing has changed, and I hope it doesn’t---as I sit here writing this little note, I’m also thinking about our next ride. I can’t wait.
Little General
On this, my 49th year of motorcycling, I sit pondering upon the large list of motorcycling friends that I have all over the USA. I truly believe that each and every one of you are SCOOTER TRASH, and oh, how I love scooter trash. ST are a special breed of people who see life in a completely different way. But I have also noticed that about 10% of the ST are what I’d call hard-core ST. I think that I probably fall into the 10% and believe that the following poem permeates to the core of the 10%---my feelings on paper.
I LOVE TO RIDE By Robert E Lee
The feel of the engine between my feet
The wind in my face
The smells of the road and countryside
The sensation of speed as the asphalt glides by
The sight of my fellow riders leaning into the turns
The sense of danger, either perceived or real
The fellowship shared with other riders
The envious look from the mini-van driver as I pull up next to him
The solitude
The responsibility
As I prepared to depart on a trip, my non-rider friend asked, “How can you go when the temp is 56 and light rain?” I pondered this question as I cruised down the highway in the rain, and thought, how could I not go? This is the most
relaxed that I’ve been in days, I thought—just me, the Lord, and my bike rumbling below me.Motorcycling is a very personal thing, it stirs the soul in a multitude of ways. I have been so lucky to have the opportunity to have so many of my emotions stirred by this beast called a bike, a scooter, a motorcycle. It has exercised the emotions of:
EXCITEMENT—each time I ride off
PHYSICAL PAIN—each time I fall off
MENTAL PAIN—each time I see a rider down (and some never got up again)
FEAR—for that deer or car just barely missed
SOLITUDE—each time I see nothing but highway in front of me
JOY—as we gather around the table to tell our stories
DISAPPOINTMENT—if for some reason the bike doesn’t start
In a two-part interview done by Cycle News 38 years ago, I told the reporter: “Every time that I get on a motorcycle I grin inside. When I get depressed or sick, all I want to do is get on a motorcycle, because it will make me feel better. I’ve been that way since I was 11 years old.”
To this day when I’m feeling low and full of the blues, my precious wife packs me a sack lunch, puts me on my bike, and says “take a long ride.” Nothing has changed, and I hope it doesn’t---as I sit here writing this little note, I’m also thinking about our next ride. I can’t wait.
Little General
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