I have given up the one true love in my life: my Harley Davidson. Someone finally took one look at the ol' Street Bob and knew in his heart, "That's the bike for me!". Sometime soon, I will sign the title away and Ol' Bob will go live with someone else.
I have been mostly a recreational rider these last few years and it is an expensive machine to simply collect dust in the garage. Though I can still ride like the wind on the open road, riding in heavy traffic and navigating the hordes of texters and cell phone talkers behind the wheel of almost every vehicle on the street is becoming more of a challenge than I care to admit. It takes a certain amount of confidence to ride a motorcycle safely. You have to believe that you can take care of yourself. Though you can never be too careful riding, you can be too cautious.
I have sold a Harley before so I know how painful it will be when I hear the unmistakable sound of a big v-twin engine coming down the road. I know how poignantly I will pine for my own Harley every time I see another woman riding. And when my daughter takes off on her bike and I cannot follow, it will really hurt. But every good thing must come to an end and that includes owning, maintaining, and riding my own Harley Davidson.
As people age, as their hair grays, their faces relax and their rear ends expand, they become invisible. They increasingly appear old, worn out, conservative, used up. Riding your own Harley is a great antidote to all that maturity, believe me. Flying down the interstate at 80 mph is invigorating, moving a ton of oxygen through the bloodstream, and trailing years of cube-farm boredom and corporate serfdom along the pavement behind you. You can believe, momentarily, that you still have what it takes to give Life the big fat middle finger, even though you know in your heart that is simply no longer true. You are just one last Harley ride away from succumbing to old age and despair.
I am old now, and gray, and fat, and it hurts to walk. Life has pretty much used me up, but when I was a young woman riding my own Harley, I was something to see. I was something to see.
Post script: I can always buy another Harley if I get too damned depressed.