Ever since I was younger I wanted a motorcycle. It wasn’t a need, but more of an passing interest. I have had a long history of those and have been prudent, I think, in if\/how I indulge them. Having a motorcycle always took the back seat, so to speak — especially when I had children and kissed anything resembling discretionary spending goodbye. I didn’t have time or money.<\/p>\n
Last year I finally decided that I had waited long enough. I enrolled for a motorcycle learning course and passed my written exam a mere two days before it started. I rode a bicycle when I was a kid (equipped with playing cards to simulate the engine sound more than once), and I even had a four-wheeler when I was a teenager, so it wasn’t much of a jump to get the hang of things. By the time I had passed my license test, it was a matter of weeks before I had managed to get my very own little Honda Shadow Spirit VT1100C. I named it Caboose after a favorite Red vs. Blue<\/a><\/em> character. Last summer I put on about 1900 miles on Caboose. To my great joy, I’ve found that being on a motorcycle can be a very zen experience. Also, you simply cannot beat the unspoken camaraderie that exists between fellow riders. <\/p>\n I managed to make it through the winter with only a few whiny moments about missing my motorcycle. As soon as it was arguably warm enough to ride this year, I got Caboose ready. I even managed to change the oil all by myself. For those unfamiliar with me, this is an event that much like Obama’s dropping of the Cuban embargo. I took this moment as some rite of passage — a machine made me care enough about its welfare that I actively learned how to maintain it by my own accord and careful research. Since then I’ve been picking up odds and ends for it. I picked up some saddlebags, which in turn has me picking up a taillight relocation kit. Seriously, don’t ask me about this stuff because it’s eating up my precious and dwindling unused grey matter like a starving dog.<\/p>\n