A little background:
1995-2006 spanned my mixed 20's-30's age range. I was invincicble. Everyday commute was a hundred miles on the Nighthawk 250/ Seca II/ Honda PC800 regardless of weather. In fact, rain was the most adventageous time to ride because of the inevitable backups and me lane-splitting into the clear. I loved the feeling of hail; how each pelt made me feel so close to nature yet so far away in my snugly-warm-crash-suit.
Young and fearless, I lived on the edge. Extremely fit, I'd mountain bike Moab and Tahoe (and local Santa Teresa Park... where I could probably spank Lance Armstrong in my own turf. No wait... I'm not really challenging you Mr. sir Armstrong sir... and the Seca was taken to equal extremes. It's hit a strong bump at a decent speed/lean and tank-slapped for a heart-stopping second. It scraped away two footpegs, one pair shoes, and three sets of tires. It got waxed and polished more often than Pamela Anderson. It gave me a sense of entitlement that no car ever could. I'm entitled. MY small space was the space between all of you cars. I owned it and could do as I pleased. Nothing but the front of the line for me! I'll park here thank you very much! But most of all, the hard shift of weight onto the outside footpeg, with my remaining body just floating in space above the thundering and bucking beast; helmet cocked hard to the outside to maintain a reference vertical; masturbating the throttle to keep that oh so perfect line through the corner as I foolishly cut between two cars that are on MY road.
I'm older now, but worse is that I stopped riding (mountain bikes AND motorcycles)for a couple of years. I got another Seca II, a bit older than the '96 at '92. Hard cornering is the five-point turn to get back out of the narrow driveway. I sit on my butt, not the footpegs. I don't stand on the outside peg and slide my butt and torso around to get a perfect balance point through the corners... I sit on the seat and my feet rest on the pegs.
I overpaid for the "new" Seca, and then spent a more ridiculous amount to get it running right. A few thousand miles ago the fuel economy dropped and performance has suffered. Second gear constantly drops out into neutral. Of course, it happens worse when lane-splitting and throttling to get a perfectly blipped line, or a sudden passing in a critical moment, and I need to go GO GO!! but instead nearly get run over from behind as I'm trying to get a red-lined motor to shift back into gear. But worse than that is the crank seal oil leak that thoroughly soaks my shoe/sock/big toe with cancer-causing motor oil. A quart and a half in two thousand miles sounds right.
And the hot days when my riding suit is literally dripping sweat onto the hardwood floors when I get home. And the neck-aches from the cold making such violent shivering; and the hands that are so cold they scream in pins and needles once exposed to room temperature. And the car is perfectly climate-controlled and hot coffee/cold tea awaits in the cupholder and radio is crystal-clear, and tires last 70,000 miles and I can legally bring the kid along with me (He's too big to fit into the tankbag anymore
) .And I just don't want a winter project of removing and disassembling the engine to replace the crank seal, or overhauling the carbs, nor rebuilding the transmission... and did I mention sipping coffee while listening to the car's radio?
So what if a motorcyclist isn't skilled enough or interested enough in riding anymore? Do I fight it or surrender?