When we started this magazine in 2002, we used the slogan ‘it’s about the ride’. We sometimes still use it, but also use ‘so many roads—so little time’. In reality, both of these sayings really describe the passion of motorcycling for most of us.
As I go about my day I am constantly reminded of both of these thoughts on a regular basis. Squeezing my way through the cluttered garage the other day, with my arms full of groceries, something caught my eye. On top of the bike lift—home for a friend’s Suzuki for the last couple of weeks—was a can of expensive Redken hairspray. A dozen eggs almost hit the floor as I gasped and asked Glenn what my hairspray was doing in the garage. Apparently it was needed for some sort of handle grip installation on the Suzuki and simply did not make it back to where it belonged.
Once I got over the initial shock and the hairspray was safely back where it should be, I moved a pile of bike magazines off the counter so I could sort and put away the groceries.
The next morning as I stumbled down the stairs and into the hallway, I was forced to make my way over the Harley boots, the runners, the board shoes, the flip flops, Birkenstocks, a pair of motocross boots, a pair of Icon riding boots, a helmet, three bike jackets and a pair of motocross pants and last but not the least important, the black heels—or the hooker boots—as my daughter calls them. It was at this point that I came to realize there is just no getting away from it—’the ride’.
When I entered the kitchen it’s the same visual mayhem…riding gear everywhere. I had to move a helmet to get to the toaster. As I turned on the radio in the next room to hear the morning news, I found yet another helmet on the coffee table. Our dog, Diesel, needed to do his morning ritual, and as he bounced toward the door I noticed the motorcycle print bandanna that he had around his neck from the groomers. Before I could open the patio door to let him out, I had to move the Ogio gear bag which was left in front of it.
I sat on the chair to have my toast and coffee only to realize there was a bike jacket on the back of it. A pair of frog toggs in need of repair caught my eye as they were draped over a stool—OK I admit they were my frog toggs.
There was a time that this would bother me and I would quickly put everything away. Now I am not so much inclined to pick up after everyone else. In fact, I have become accustomed to the sight of the riding gear and cans of leather conditioner and cleaner for all types of coats and boots just about everywhere imaginable. In fact I once found a can of FXR water and stain repellent in the cupboard with the salt and pepper.
Recently a rainy Saturday seemed to be a good day to clean out the garage. This was a long drawn out process as everything had a story that had to be shared, then each item had to be re-assessed and either trashed or put
in some sort of a box or storage place for a later purpose in life. After arranging shelves and cupboards, and rearranging them numerous times, there actually appeared to be some order in this space. However in doing so, I also found items that I should normally find in my kitchen; a couple of measuring cups, a cookie sheet, cake pan, two salad bowls and three funnels. All of these were apparently much required items for a bike repair of some sort over the past few years.
A couple Sundays ago we were on our bikes taking a nice ride through the country. The plan was to head to the grocery store and only buy enough groceries that would fit in the saddle bags. I figured we could get pretty much what we needed except for a case of water for lunches. After all we had four saddle bags we could fill. After a half hour into the ride, Glenn turned his head toward a garage sale and quickly signaled me to turn into the driveway. After a discussion with the vendor it was apparent that groceries were now on the back burner and we were heading home again to return with the truck in order to pick up the project bike that now belonged to Glenn.
Fortunately, that wet Saturday allowed us time to have the garage tidied up and the project bike has a place and is now neatly tucked to one side waiting for the day that it can be tinkered with.
As for the measuring cups and the helmets and coats, they are still in the wrong places as far as I can figure out, but that’s OK. It’s all about the ride now—with so many roads and so little time—they can be put away in October and I’m fine with that. MMM