So here I am back to another period where I don't own a motorcycle. This one feels different though. During the last spell, I always had it
in the back of my mind that once certain conditions were met, a decent job and a house with a garage for example, I'd start riding again. Now,
the only thing stopping me is lack of motivation.
Having moved from the frozen tundra of Minnesota to the desert of Arizona, there are plenty of places to ride off-road. I don't have a vehicle
to haul a motorcycle, but that is not an insurmountable obstacle by any means. The truth is my priorities are elsewhere, and I don't have the
drive to train that way I feel is necessary to ride a dirt bike.
People sometimes suggest backing it down a bit, but that’s easier said than done. It's like trying to unlearn all your reflexes burned
in over decades. It's not that I take chances anymore, but I ride pretty aggressive. I don't know how to ride a dirt bike any other way.
I used to train hard back in the day. With that fitness level greatly diminished, I'd be just someone who starts slow, then goes even slower,
until he finally tips over like the guy on the tricycle in Laugh-In.
Going Back to Millville
in 2015 was enjoyable, but even that didn't make me want to ride again.
My Uncle Ed rode off-road into his 80s, even after having quadruple bypass surgery. I always thought I'd follow suit, but I guess my fire burned
out earlier than his.
So is this the last chapter? There are no icy roads in the winter to stop me from riding on the road, so I'm not ready to call myself retired
from motorcycling just yet, but if it turns out that way, then
. Please exit through the gift shop.
Prologue – What about now?