Longevity and Bikers

[Lowell]

In 1973 I was serving in Germany with the US Army. I got a call from home that my grandfather Leo had died and I had to return to the States because he'd left me something in his will. Grandpa was 86 when he passed away and we were very close.

Leo was a real old school biker. His first bike was an early Indian and his last was a 1947 Harley Knucklehead. He rode that old Harley right up until two years (84 yo) before died. He fell down and broke his hip on the way to the outhouse and had to give it up. He'd kept it in the barn at his home in Maine and everyday he'd visit the bike, polish it and fire it up. But he couldn't swing his leg over the seat anymore and it broke his heart. He left me the bike.

I've been on two wheels since 1963 and only had a couple accidents that kept me from riding for a while. Now, in my 60s, I look around at the guys in my motorcycle club and down at the Legion and wonder about the older riders I know. I ride now and then with the Legion riders at my post and we have two Korean war vets. They've been riding since the 50s and survived. Last year I rode to a Patriot Guard mission with a WWII vet. He was the same age my grandfather was when he died, 86. I was impressed with his longevity as a rider. I've asked these old gentlemen in casual conversation how it was they had been able to stay on two wheels for so long and how they did it. Everyday we are bombarded with accident reports about young riders dying on the road and I wanted to know what the secret was to survival.

I discovered two things play a big part in the process. One is attitude. All these guys told me how much they respected the rules of the road and they never pushed their luck. They liked to ride and they knew their limitations. As long as they could ride they were happy. An accident like my grandfather's had ended his riding days and he did not live long after that.

The second thing they talk about is the fellowship. This is something I can understand because of my own involvement of many years in a motorcycle club. The social aspect of being a motorcycle enthusiast bonds people from many backgrounds. I've come to realize how much history we all share and how important the biker lifestyle has become to those of us who have chosen that path. There really is something to the motto "live to ride and ride to live."

Today you see a lot of greybeards on the road. That is encouraging and I dread the day when I can no longer throw my leg over my bike. It makes me wonder, when it is time to give it up?

[Robb]

1. I don't ride much on the pavement

...but I can speak to how much I learn, every time, from dirt riders with a touch or more of gray. :D

One thing about the social aspect is the endless discussion and analysis of rides gone wrong -- what a particular victim was doing/wearing/thinking when they went down. I suspect this improves the riding of everyone talking about it.

My MSF coach was about a billion years old, and arrived on a trike because he knew he couldn't lift a two-wheeler if he dropped it somewhere. He told me when the trike got to be too much, he had a souped-up four-wheeler in the garage, and planned on strapping a lunch cooler to the front and enjoying his retirement on Colorado's high mountain pass roads. He hoped to die slumped over some set of handlebars, thank you very much.

[guitar man]

2. time to give it up?

I'll give it up when they pry my cold, dead hands off the handlebars :P

I'm 44 and I've been riding since I was 9, my first bike was a Honda Mini Trail 50 and I have had a whole bunch of different bikes over the years. American, Brit, Jap, you name it, if it had two wheels and I could afford it, that's what I was riding at the time.

I've been down a few times and learned something each time. I ride more sane and slower than I did when I was younger, but I ain't givin' it up any time soon ;)

[Lowell]

5. I feel the same way

I, too, started with dirt bikes. My first was a Ducati Diana 90cc back in the 60s. I loved jumping ditches and slinging mud. But I too have slowed down a lot. There is a big difference being 16 and being 60. I still have a lot of respect for dirt biking, but it is just not in my itinerary anymore. It used to be I could ride a thousand miles in 48 hours also, but now I don't enjoy that kind of mileage anymore. I'll do 400 to 500 in a day, then I need a couple days to recover. But I also am committed to only quitting when they pry the handlebars from my dead hands.

As a side bar, my wife and I own some land in South Carolina bordering an old cemetery. I was walking through the graveyard one day a few years back when I came on a headstone with a rebel flag on it. At first I thought it was a confederate grave, but when I read on I realized it was the resting place of a local biker. When I asked a local about the buried biker he told me an interesting story. He said that the young man had died on his bike twenty years before and the family had honored his last wishes. Once his coffin was in the ground they pushed his old shovelhead in on top and covered them both up.

[guitar man]

7. damn

there's a shovelhead buried there? I've never thought about grave robbing, but..... :spank:

Seriously though, I can understand the sentiment, it sounds like something I might want to do myself when they put me in a hole...

[WannaJumpMyScooter]

3. If you can't throw your leg over, then

get a trike.

[Ganja Ninja]

4. When you can't throw a leg over your bike it's time to by a scooter.

[1620rock]

6. Well, I'll be 62 in September and I can report that when I ride..

I feel young, alert, and more alive than ever. The senses are sharpened, the mind clears, the endorphins start flowing. It's a natural high that I could not do without.