Well Marg & I have completed buying more motorcycles and various parts for our training fleet (now at 44 motorcycles).
The problem is that one of them makes me stop an ponder it's future and to write this story.
Do I send this young buck to the battle front? Or do I hold it back and savor its athleticism and stamina to hold out to the very, very end; and never, never, never fail me?
I am actually thinking about draining the fluids out and mounting it on the wall in the living room; no wait my wife would finally realize I am insane and that I needed to be committed, no wait we can not afford that, she could afford a 25 cent bullet but doesn't own a gun.
These are some of the problems in life...
After teaching for over 8 years and riding hundreds of motorcycles, you start to bond with some of them. Some actually touch your heart by what they can do, or what they can put up with.
One that will ever hold a place in my heart is the Yamaha GTS1000, if you have ever been fortunate enough to have ridden one, or taken it to the track you would understand.
Another is the Honda Nighthawk CB250. This bike is the Marine grunt (yes) seriously, of the motorcycle safety training realm. They are the "war horse" of the front lines.
In my opinion the best engineered and designed tank for living a life as a trainer.
Only some of you that actually read this will understand...
Here I have a Honda Nighthawk with 852 actual miles on it. It has maybe seen one or two training classes in its short life (bet it got the crap scared out of it! They never told it about the students on the assembly line, ha). If I put it in the shed with the other older more experienced nighthawks; (some with over 10,000 training miles) what do you think they will start to tell this young buck?
"RUN,RUN,RUN now before you are hammered like we have been. We still have the stamina but no longer the heart. Some people should never ride a motorcycle, period!
They think a clutch is indestructible, they think you can rev the crap out of us and it will do no damage to our internals, they think that the brakes are to be grabbed and jammed, they think that a tip over/low side is like, oh well not my bike, show us some respect, PLEASE!"
"You young ones have no idea how it is on the front lines. I would suggest that you spin a main and shell yourself now, look at us, some of us have been in this shit hole for over 20 years and these people keep fixing us and sending us back to the front line".
"Some say the Marines are the real men, well let them sit in our shoes for a training season, they all would run home screamin' and crying to their mamma's after two classes!"
The black one is the virgin (852 miles! Really)
I can sit on a Nighthawk and ride it a few feet and feel its pain, or as with this one it's naivety as to where it is going.
Kind of like what I would perceive as the glory of young men enlisting. Becoming hero's and such...
No disrespect intended to anyone in our armed forces, I appreciate what you have and will do for our country!
Just making a comparison of a machine to the machine, of our fighting men and women.
Anyway, looking back at the miles I have logged on one of these bikes is staggering, as it would be for any instructor who does safety training as their livelihood.
You get very comfortable with the bikes and can feel any slight difference between them. You start to have your favorites and the ones that you just stay away from; kind of like the proud old gray mule in the corner of the corral just darin' you to come over, get me to move! I'll kick you in the... if you try!
Me, I still pull that old mule out to show it who is boss; and who still cares for the service it has done, all these long/tough years.
Every body including the 300+ pound person that sat on or almost crushed one of these grunts, was taught something by that trusty steed and the instructor. The bike was never applauded, but sometimes a student would run their hand over the tank slowly, almost a caress, saying thanks...
Good enough for me, and good enough for our trusty steeds...
W
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