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Where Does This Passion Come From?
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Bheezy27403 Offline
1st Service Completed

Triad NC
Posts: 205
Joined: Sep 2015
Post: #21
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
There was a very good thread on why/how people change/lose their passions just the other day. Great read if you can find it.
10-31-2017 08:21 AM
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birdman Offline
New To The Forum

moorhead, mn
Posts: 2
Joined: Aug 2017
Post: #22
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
I like this question.

I had an early love affair with bicycles. A long time later (in my 20's) I had a bad injury playing baseball- level 3 hamstring tear. I ended up doing a lot of bike riding to stay active. That led to racing- 20 years of competitive citizen races/club races. Nothing pro. Still ride a lot.

My motorcycling started in about 1970, and since then I have owned many bikes. 175cc, 750's, Honda Blackbird, 2010 Kawasaki Concours, VStrom, etc.

But to your point/question, I believe a part of this motorcycle passion has to do with the escape metaphor; we engage our iconoclast "selves" when we hop on the bike, or even daydream about it.

And I think it is about going beyond the 5 senses; something about riding a motorcycle is a reach into the possibility of a multi-sensory experience. It is almost mystical. It is a realm beyond the 5 senses; in that realm our deepest values reside.

The language for this is difficult; we don't really have a linguistic reference, but it is there. With each ride it is a reach into something beyond, and for me it is uplifting and energizing and invites me back each time I experience it.
11-01-2017 07:12 AM
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Nortoon Offline
Running Like a Top

Ottawa, Ontario, Canada
Posts: 731
Joined: Jan 2015
Post: #23
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
Funny you should mention day dreaming. I often find my mind drifting off when I am riding quiet back roads. When I realize it, I ask myself "Where are you?"

Unless I am enthusiastically sweeping through the corners, I find motorcycling on the back roads very relaxing. Which is probably the reason I find myself daydreaming. It is the same enjoyable calm I enjoy when I am in some out of the way place fishing.

Now that I am retired, I have a lot of down time. So motorcycling, fishing, walking the nature trail in the winter; all add enjoyment to my life. Which reminds me of a former motorcycling buddy that often repeated this pearl of wisdom: "Enjoy life! We only pass this way once."

2017 CB1100 EX
11-01-2017 09:53 AM
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flat out Offline
Break-In Period

shelburne
Posts: 6
Joined: Mar 2017
Post: #24
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
Fantastic topic! I still have my original 1968 Fastback100 bicycle. Still love bicycles today.
I'm thankful to have ridden and still ride all manner of Motorcycles(Yamaha XT250, Aprilia Tuono with the CB sitting nicely in the middle) can't wait to retire to follow Nortoon's example and do more of what I have a passion for.
I wish a great ride to everyone.
t.
11-02-2017 06:28 AM
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Northrider Offline
New To The Forum

MT
Posts: 4
Joined: Aug 2017
Post: #25
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
My hero's have always been cowboys, never thought going to the barn and getting the wagon was cool, but ridding a horse was... so from flesh to steal we still ride
12-11-2017 04:53 PM
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offroadfx4 Offline
Running Like a Top

Indiana
Posts: 539
Joined: Apr 2014
Post: #26
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
When my parents would ask me why I drove them crazy to first let purchase my Honda 50 mini Trail, then my CL350, then CB350, then my CB750 (I paid for each one myself) all I could do to describe the feeling...It's like I'm one with the motorcycle.....it felt so natural like I could run as fast as the motorcycle would let me.

Everything was second nature.

I guess it did come from my bicycle riding years, wishing it was motorized as I rode my daily 7 mile paper route at age 12 on my "Sting-Ray" bicycle with banana seat, sissy bar and all! I was on top of the world! ;-)

2014 Honda CB1100 STD
1984 Kawasaki GPZ750
1978 Yamaha YZ125
1976 Honda CB750 (cost $1776 new)
1973 Honda CB350
1970 Honda 50 Mini Trail
12-11-2017 09:36 PM
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3rdbike Offline
1st Service Completed

Albuquerque, NM USA
Posts: 56
Joined: Dec 2017
Post: #27
RE: Where Does This Passion Come From?
Mandrau wrote: "I did a little field research this past summer asking various moto riders I met if they rode bicycles when they were kids. All looked at me funny as though it were a given and said “yea, so” or something like that. I did not find one motorcyclist who had not ridden a bicycle as a kid first. Is it even conceivable that someone could or would even want to ride a motorcycle without having learned to ride a bicycle as a kid? Are there exceptions? Now I know that probably the vast majority of people have had an experience of riding a bicycle but I’m not convinced that it is the same for everyone."

Mandrau, you have found your man. Pull up a chair and sit back for some story-telling! I grew up on a farm in north-eastern Kansas in the 60's. We never went hungry, always had good clothes on our backs, but not too much else. Bicycle? We didn't even have a little red wagon! One summer day Dad took the time to make us a toy: he had scrounged up some wheels, maybe 8" diameter, pulled some steel rod, maybe 6' long out of the scrap pile and went to work on this collection. He threaded one end of a rod, put a nut on, put the wheel on, and another nut over the wheel. Then he clamped the other end of the rod in the vise and made two 90 degree bends to form a 'crank'. Finished product! You'd 'operate' it by turning the crank by hand, causing the wheel to roll as you walked/ran along beside it. Us kids ran those things all over the farm!

In May or June of '67, Uncle Starr drove up to our farm in Grandpa B's old Chevy pickup, unloaded a Cushman scooter and gave it to me. Keep in mind I didn't know how to ride anything. I tried, but immediately plowed into the mailbox. A couple days later, my other Grandpa H (Mom's dad) came up and said, "Get that scooter out, start it up, and I'll show you how to ride." (Grandpa H rode Indian motocycles in his youth.) I nervously complied. I was on front at the handlebars, Grandpa was on back, and we took off. He was coaching me as we rolled along, and I suspect doing a lot of body English back there. Telling me to stay out of the gravel, and watch for bumps and holes in the surface that could upset the scooter. We rode down to his farm, a mile away, and turned back. When we got back home, I WAS RIDING!! Several days later Grandpa H came back and gave my brothers a new 20" bicycle so they wouldn't be 'left out'. I learned how to ride a bicycle then, but it was a whole 'nuther thing for me to pedal and balance at the same time.

A number of the kids around the farming community were getting small motorcycles: Honda step-through 50's, Yamaha 80's, my cousin got a brand-new Suzuki 120, another kid had a Yamaha Twin Jet 100 that sounded like a swarm of bees. Another kid's older brother had a Honda 250 Dream! How could anyone handle that much power?? Taking off, he could spin his rear tire on gravel at will! We were just kids, 12, 13, 14 years old, no drivers license or any of that stuff. We rode the cow trails in the pastures and stuck to the dirt roads around the county and stayed off the pavement. We had already been driving farm trucks, tractors and such for several years. It was expected of you.

I found I was at a distinct disadvantage on the Cushman with its small scooter wheels on sand and gravel roads, and especially on the rough cow trails. Small wheels simply won't roll over objects that big wheels will. I spent some time on the ground. And besides, those other kids had motorcycles with wire wheels and clutches and 4 speeds and they were cool! And I had this scooter with little wheels and a centrifugal clutch. To be fair, the Cushman would outrun some of the small bikes; given enough room, it'd top out about 60.

No, I couldn't be satisfied with what I had. That being Dad's perpetual question. I don't know what he thought of his brother giving me that scooter, but he was dead set against motorcycles. At one point during one of my tirades, he said he would buy me any car I wanted if I would just shut up about them dang motorcycles!
(In retrospect I realize, dang, I coulda had a Corvette!!) And it couldn't be just any motorcycle, it had to be a Harley-Davidson 125 Rapido, a decision made after reading the test article in Hot Rod magazine.

We got the Topeka newspaper from Grandma H a day later after they had read it. That was my only source of information and I was determined to find the Rapido in the want ads. Considering the microscopic view of the used bike market that gave me, it was miraculous when a Rapido showed up in the ads. I had already figured out that Mom was who I needed to work on, and I made my best case for her to take me down to Grandma's so we could use the phone and call about the H-D. The bike turned out to be at a dealer in Topeka, and Mom, bless her heart, actually talked her way into borrowing Grandpa's new '66 Chevy pickup so we could take the Cushman the 60 miles down to Topeka and trade it for the Rapido.

This was a typical cold, dreary, wet February 28th in Kansas. We arrived at the dealer in Topeka, only to find out they had sold the Rapido in the mean time! I was crushed. But then I got to see the actual bike, and was secretly glad they had sold it. Previous owner had made a mangled attempt to make a 'dirt bike' out of it.
Well, I knew this was going to be my only chance in the world to get real motorcycle. A salesman took me back to a dank, poorly lit room jammed with bikes and I 'selected' a '67 Honda S-90. It 'only' had 14000 some miles on it. My 'test ride' consisted of riding on the back of the bike down the alley and back. Sold!

Being the spoiled, whining little cuss that I was, I insisted that I should ride it home. 60 miles. In the rain/sleet. Mom was firm. I shut up and got in the truck. At intervals along the way home I brought the subject up again, to be met with firm resistance. Finally she relented at Randolph. I could ride the last 10 miles home. Excited It was raining lightly and the road was wet, but I was only vaguely aware of that. I had a motorcycle!!!

The farm is two miles off the highway, and the temps that day had gotten above the melting point, and with the rain the dirt road had turned into a quagmire. By time I got home that poor little Honda was just a big mudball, hardly any feature showing to prove that it was a motorcycle. But I would've slept out in the shed with it that night, because I had a motorcycle!!

Like others who've posted their thoughts on your question, I can't really put that passion into words. The best I can do is point at my heart and say, "It does that thing."
(This post was last modified: 12-13-2017 07:18 AM by The ferret.)
12-13-2017 12:45 AM
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