A dozens bucks.
12 dollars.
That's all it costs to go for a 200+ mile ride.
A tank of gas costs $12.
I've wondered over the last few months why I didn't just buy a bike 5 years ago.
I had money then. I had just come back from Iraq, and I had $10K in the bank.
But I didn't.
I got an apartment and wasted money (although I also bought useful things like furniture) and drooled over motorcycles online but never pulled the plug.
I remember when I was still in the Army, my dad bought a bike.
It was a 1982 Honda Goldwing.
From the aid station (I was a medic) at Fort Polk on a training mission before my unit went back to Iraq, I called home one night and he told me he had bought a motorcycle.
"That's so cool," I said.
"It's an old motorcycle, I'm still getting used to riding it," he said.
He kept riding, and I got out of the Army without using the chance to buy a bike.
A few years later he bought a 1999 Goldwing. He rode all over.
Yosemite.
Nearly every weekend. It's only a few hours from home for him.
Yellowstone. Why not? A cross-country ride is an American Dream.
Glacier National Park.
Of course.
If you have a motorcycle, you have to ride to absolutely amazing places.
Then, earlier this year, he crashed.
He was ok, a concussion and soreness but not seriously injured.
Mom said he had to get rid of the bike.
He didn't listen at first, but then he was on a long ride. Like a 14-day ride.
Sitting in a motel room by himself he realized he would rather be home.
Playing with his grandkids.
I've only seen true love a few instances in my life, but my dad is completely, unequivocally, madly in love with his grandchildren.
He's only 51, and they're still all under 5 years old, but I know they will be so spoiled for the rest of forever and that Grandpa will always be fondly remembered.
The decision was made in a crappy hotel room, he told me over coffee when he dropped off the bike.
He was done riding.
For some still unknown reason, my mom suggested he give the bike to me.
Alright so I'm the only one of six kids who actually thought it was cool that dad rode a motorcycle. And I'm the only one of six kids who went for ride with him.
Yeah, I rode in the bitch seat.
We looked totally like two gay lovers.
We even had to stop for gas, and people looked at the bike and us and you could see how their opinions formed about the man-on-man action that must have been going on in their heads.
But it was awesome!
That's was the first time I really experienced riding a motorcycle.
I had been on dirtbikes a few times as a teenager and it was cool, but not really a life experience.
On the back of my dad's bike, riding the curving roads around Lake Isabella, I saw how big the world is.
All we did was drive around the lake, but it was an experience that is lodged in my memory forever.
They call Montana, "Big Sky Country," and I'm sure it is, but on a motorcycle, every inch of the world is big sky country.
The world was new.
A few years later and I still hadn't bought a bike.
I was texting my brother, who was living with my parents with his wife and daughter after being laid off from the Bakersfield oil fields, when he texted to call dad (dad doesn't text, he's old-school like that).
He offered me the motorcycle.
That's how I ended up with a 1999 Honda Goldwing. It's how I got into riding and why everything in life is awesome.
When I think about everything in my life, it can all be wrapped up with a single statement.
"At least I have a motorcycle."
