When my eyes failed last year I owned four motorcycles (and two cars). I decided to keep two of the motorcycles for sentimental reasons -- and also possible display in the future -- and sell the remaining two bikes. The machines designated for sale were my speed-rocket (BMW S1000R) and my comfortable touring bike (BMW K1600GTL).
Both bikes are relatively new (8-9 years old) and in good shape. I thought it'd be selfish to leave them in the garage to rust when someone else could be riding them with enjoyment. Plus the bikes themselves want to be ridden. That's their design, purpose and destiny.
As you know I gave away my sportbike for free to Bob, a close friend who needed that particular bike. Bob is short and the saddle's height fits him perfectly. Then this week I found a buyer for the touring machine. A casual (but not close) friend wanted a touring motorcycle but couldn't afford one. (They're expensive: my GTL cost $30,000 when I bought it new.) I decided to solve his and my problems by selling the bike to him for half of its market value and spreading out his payments over time. He was overwhelmed by that arrangement since it made the difference between him getting such a bike or not. He picked the bike up Tuesday night.
As much as I believe this was the right move I still shed a tear. This motorcycle was my ticket to adventure. I rode it on all kinds of trips, like a jaunt up to Toronto to visit Suzanne (pictured) and solo camping trips in New Hampshire. If you're careful you can carry a small tent, sleeping bag, air mattress, cooking gear, etc. on the bike. I loved how self-sufficient I felt heading into the woods on two wheels. Great memories.
The bike has "hard luggage" which allowed me to go shopping and carry stuff home. Like bags of groceries, bunches of flowers, vinyl records and thrift-shop clothing. There was nothing I couldn't use the bike for. I even rode slowly through cemeteries on it to pay respect to departed ones and take photographs. The GTL was completely integrated into my life. It was my partner. Capable, reliable and fun. Always fun.
I'll miss it.
I think, if you're me anyway, that objects like your motorbike become imbued with a little bit of ourselves. I think both the people who ended up with your motorcycles and the bikes themselves will carry the memories of your adventures to new worlds and hopefully allow you to follow new routes and new adventures.
ReplyDeleteNo one can ever say you live a boring life, Ally. You contain generosity and multitudes.
That said, I'm glad to hear your plan to display your other two. That Janus one is such a looker.
You're totally right about some objects becoming part of us. These machines are my partners and will alwaysc\ carry that legacy. The two bikes I'm keeping are my first (1995 Kawasaki Vulcan 750) which I learned on and my last (2022 Janus Halcyon 450). They bookend my riding career. Neither is suitable for a new owner and both are sentimental to me.
DeleteThose motorcycles have been such an integral part of your life for so long, it's totally understandable it's hard to say goodbye to them, and that you're keeping two of them for sentimental reasons. I'm glad to hear the other two have gone to people who appreciate them! xxx
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ann. I feel the same way and was trying to express that. I'm glad you received my message. Most people think of objects as mere objects; these motorcycles are so much more to me.
DeleteOh, that must have been so hard! Of COURSE you will miss them- they were your babies! I imagine it might be how I'd feel about having to get rid of my flute because I, for some physical reason, couldn't play it- it would be really difficult!
ReplyDeleteIt's good of you to have sold it so generously to that acquaintance. xx
Thank you, Kezzie, and your analogy to musical instruments is so apt. We touch these objects, manipulate them physically and create magic in partnership with them. Years ago I heard stories of professional musicians who lost their instruments in a cab, etc. and how bereft they were about it. Now I get that. It's a visceral loss.
DeleteThe toring Beemer is a very nice bike. Now that I am planning to relocate to P.R., my friends keep asking me to sell my Kawasaki Ninja ZX14. I am so attached to it that I am going to ship the bike to my next destination. I am almost certain the bike will outlast me.
ReplyDeleteYes, you won't want to let your beloved bike go unless you have to. Our attachment to these machines is real and deep.
Delete"the touring Beemer" ...
ReplyDeleteI remember well when you rode the bike up to visit me. What a monster that thing was. I know it must have felt like you gave part of yourself away when the two bikes left your home. It can't be easy. Big hugs!
ReplyDeleteSuzanne
Thanks, sweet friend. All your words are true... but there's more. Life challenges us in ways we don't expect. Whether we're up to the challenges or crumble define us and determine our future. I'm hoping for a future -- even without the joy of motorcycling -- because I have no other choice.
DeletePassing along your bikes is like when I pass along meaningful clothes or jewelry - a little bit of you will always be with them, as part of their bigger history. I'm glad you have good pictures like the one with Suzanne to remember your baby by. Hugs to you, Ally.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sheila. You're right.
DeleteThanks, Melody. Nice hearing from you.
ReplyDelete