When life throws you a curve (ball), get out there and ride it.

I recently came across an old photograph of my grandmother when she was about 14 or 15 years old. In the picture, she was sitting on a 1918 Excelsior motorcycle with a custom sidecar. It turns out this motorcycle was used to deliver old black and white films to movie theatres back in the day. Funny enough, I used to be terrified of motorcycles as a kid. Even going too fast downhill on my bicycle made me nervous. But as I grew into my teenage years and got into mountain biking, I began to warm up to the idea of speed, though motorcycles still felt a bit out of reach.

Fast forward to my adult life, where I had been planning a two-year trip to New Zealand for my master’s degree and a work placement. The thought of riding a motorcycle resurfaced and suddenly became intriguing. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the time to get my full motorcycle licence before leaving, and the licensing process in New Zealand was similar to the one in Canada. So, the dream of owning and riding a motorcycle had to be put on hold. I didn’t realize what I was missing, and sometimes we do have significant regrets in our lives.

BEGINNING THE ADVENTURE

When I returned to Canada, I dove back into work and even started a coffee-roasting business with my brother. Despite the challenges of running a business together, we had an agreement never to let it come between us. Whenever we did have disagreements, we settled them over cigars and Scotch. It was during one of these candid conversations that my regrets about not getting my motorcycle licence resurfaced. My brother, being a straight shooter, simply said, “Why don’t you just go get it now? In fact, why don’t we both go for it?”

That’s when my journey with motorcycles truly began. We enrolled in a motorcycle course in Ottawa, enduring scorching 38-degree weather one day and pouring rain the next during our training. My brother got the gorgeous Suzuki TU250 for the course, while I was stuck with a 125 cc dirt bike; it still felt like the start of something special.

My brother got a barely functioning Virago from a friend, and I took the Kijiji route, buying a 1981 Kawasaki 440 LTD I lovingly named Cricket. I may have looked a bit like a clown with my 6-foot-4-inch frame on such a small bike, but I rode that thing with pride.

Over time, my passion for motor…