Finding the Start Line

by Jeff Pamer

The Beginning

In the last eleven years of riding, I’ve grown a lot.  Been through a lot.  As a rider, and a person.  I bought my first motorcycle as a statement at the tail end of a marriage.  Life as I knew it was disintegrating around me, I was forced to ask myself; who do you want to be moving forward?  What ended up being one of the most important answers that I came up with was a motorcyclist.  I have been obsessed with bikes my whole life, and at this pivotal moment, I got the worst loan money could buy, and a jaw dropping 2009 Triumph Bonneville T-100.  I didn’t have an endorsement, nor had a really ever ridden a bike.  It was a bold move, but divorce tends to be rich soil for boldness, or irrationality, or genius.  I’m sticking with genius.  I was lucky, this choice ended up putting me in a love affair that would last.  I rode my Triumph everywhere, to work, to dinner, and to nowhere, the latter being where my love was really forged.  

I Grew Up Fast

Motorcycling is an exercise in individualism.  If you screw up, you carry the consequences of it.  Growth, and competence comes with a realization that forcing ourselves to see our short comings, can be the difference between coming home on your bike, or not.  It’s an exaggerated example of what I try to do every day in my life, stakes are just higher.  I think that’s one of the reasons that I haven’t moved on from bikes to something else, as I so often do.   When I first started riding, I would throw a leg over my bike with a crisp white t shirt on, a pair of jeans, some boots and a ¾ helmet.  I was obsessed with the image that went with the bike as much as the riding itself.  Now, even if it’s 116 degrees (and it is where I live sometimes) I put on my armored leather jacket and a full-face helmet.  We’ll call that growth, much like the skin that needed to grow back on my knee after I put a bike down.  I healed, and I fixed my bike, but I was different after.  Sometimes life has a way to force the issue when we need to wake up.

The Ultimate Freedom

There are few things that I prefer to being on one of my bikes.  I feel whole, alone, and in charge of what comes next.  I feel happy in a way that I can’t truly describe, try as I might with a thesaurus, and my computer.  I only wish that I had started my journey earlier.  Motorcycles are not an exclusive club.  Now, more than ever, we need to be inviting people into our community, as new motorcycle sales are in a decline.  

Thinking About Riding? I’m Here For You

I hope I can make people feel comfortable asking questions about my bikes, and how I got into it.  Maybe offering to let someone putt around a parking lot on my 86 Yamaha when I see they’re interested, it’s not like they could do more damage to it than I already have.  I don’t want to proselytize biking, but rather support the quiet person who has always dreamed of riding.  Taking down the barriers that they have built around it, and sometimes being the voice in the back of their head saying; “do it, do it” when they’re standing in a dealership for the 100^th time.  I’ll also be the voice that tells them to get the hell away from that liter bike.