Where to begin?

I got my first bike when I was 22. It was an ’81 Honda CB 650 Custom with a ripped seat, and an ugly paint job. Once I was on the road, I couldn’t figure out why it didn’t “DO” something for me like it was supposed to. I liked it ok, but there was no calling to the “easy-rider” lifestyle. At the tender age of 22, I was unaware that my first mistake was being on an old, ugly Honda. You get what you pay for. The problem was there was nobody to ride with; I only had one friend at the time who rode. The problem was solved when I moved and there was no room for the rice burner at my apartment. I sold it. Six years later, a friend-of-a-friend was selling an old KZ 550 for next to nothing, and I was back on two wheels again. Shortly thereafter I was wondering – why? Once again, there was nobody to ride with, and no place to go except back and forth to work. Exciting, huh? After less than a year on the KZ, I moved again, and sold the bike. The old KZ does get credit for one thing though - My wife. I got the word at work that she was interested in me because I rode a bike, so I asked her out, and five years later we got married. The funny thing was, though originally attracted by the bike, she didn’t care when I got rid of it!

In the spring of 1999, while vacationing in Florida, I found a place in Orlando that rented Harleys. I checked out a brand new Dyna Low-Rider, with the then-new Twin Cam 88. I was in love almost immediately, and proceeded to ride all over Florida for as much of the 24-hour rental period as I could, stopping only to sleep briefly. I now understood at least part of the Harley “mystique.” There was something about the rumble of that V-Twin, and the way the bike responded gracefully, yet with authority, to the slightest touch. It looked good, sounded good…hell it even smelled good! From Orlando, to Daytona, to Ocala and back to Orlando again, I put my feet up on those highway pegs and felt like Peter Fonda! It was one hell of a rush. Bringing that bike back and handing over the keys was one of the hardest things I’d ever done, but the dream would have to wait.