Maybe it’s the life insurance. As regular readers may recall, I took a beginning motorcycle class last summer after Shannon signed me up as an anniversary present. This year for Fathers Day, Shannon bought me a very nice Joe Rocket riding jacket. So I have to wonder why, when I’m surrounded by men saying, “Yeah, I’d love to have a motorcycle, but my wife won’t let me,” my own wife is largely responsible for me becoming a motorcycle owner.
I’d been considering buying a bike ever since that class, divided by my desires for bodily wellness but seeing lots of other cheerful, unscathed riders. One of the things that tipped the balance was a guy at work named David who just took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation class as well, and picked up a used 600cc sport bike. He said he was having a great time.
It all struck a chord. Here was a novice, like me, who just went out and bought the exact class of motorcycle I had been thinking about. In fact, I had narrowed it down to a Yamaha YZF600R based on reviews I had read. Not that I was really sure, though — I mean what do I know anyway? But seeing someone go out and do it was inspiring. And I already had the jacket after all.
I lost a couple of hours of productivity at work one day when I saw a sweet looking Honda CBR600 F4 on eBay. The seller was from American Fork, and I agonized over whether to throw in a bid. I decided to check out a dealer down in Provo to see what was obtainable there. They had exactly three used sport bikes, all bigger, newer and (therefore) more expensive than I wanted.
Honda CBR600 F4
June 10, 2003
When I got home to resume my agonizing about whether to bid on the Honda with the auction ending in a couple of hours, another bike came up on eBay in the Salt Lake region: a 2000 Yamaha YZF600R. So I let the Honda go.
I decided to try another dealer, the one where David had gotten his bike. The salesman was very nice, and they even had a few used 600cc sport bikes. One was the exact Honda that had sold on eBay, but selling for about $1800 more there at the dealer. OK, they’ve got to pay to “recondition” the bike, cover advertising, rent etc. But it still seemed steep. After a while the salesman also mentioned that there isn’t any warranty and that in addition to the listed price, there would be a $90 reconditioning fee. I wanted to say, “Gee, I thought that was covered by the fact that you’re selling at retail blue book instead of trade-in blue book,” but I just kept quiet and decided that a dealer wasn’t the way to go.
I sent an e-mail to the Yamaha seller, expressing interest and she let me know her reserve price. So I waited until the last day of the auction, threw in my bid, and ignored eBay for the rest of the day. The bike was delivered late that very night.
I didn’t sleep much. “Helmet, registration, and insurance” kept going through my head, I guess, and I lost a little more working productivity checking those items off the next day. I was so tired when I got home from work that I wasn’t even up for a ride. Shannon insisted, so I rode around the neighborhood a little. Ethan and Gerrit thought I was the coolest dad around.
Yamaha YZF600R
July 7, 2003
I’ve been trying to take it slow since then, practicing tight turns, shifting and quick stops, and even rode to work on back roads a couple of times. Part of what drew me to motorcycling is the chance to learn something new that would stretch my comfort zone a little. My goal is to become proficient enough to trust my own skills and focus on evading the crazies on the road:
Worse yet, someone with a serious mental problem such as schizophrenia might initiate aggression for no apparent reason. Maybe that extraterrestrial voice in her brain said Get the motorcyclist. — David L. Hough, Proficient Motorcycling.
The other day, Shannon persuaded me to give her a ride, even though I felt like I needed more solo time first. She had a great time, and the truth of her encouragement emerged: she has previously hidden desire to be a biker chick and to buy black leather halter tops. Works for me.