A Chapter Closes

​You know that old Bob Seger song, “Roll Me Away”? It’s been running through my mind lately. Only this time, I’m not the one rolling away. My dearly beloved motorcycle rolled out of our driveway for the last time a few weeks ago, destined for a new owner’s garage. 

Being bike-less is a first for us

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​Now, for the first time in our twenty-seven years together, Ray and I have no motorcycles, as he recently traded his last two in on a side-by-side quad. 

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​It’s a strange feeling, a little sad and yet absolutely right. In the seven years since we moved to Newaygo County, I’ve gotten so involved in other activities—yoga, hiking, kayaking, photography, plus this blog and the book project I’m absorbed in right now—there just hasn’t been time for the long motorcycle rides I used to enjoy so much. 

​But there’s more to it than that. Lately, being out on the road, even in a car, has started to feel a lot more hazardous. I don’t know if it’s my age, the increasing number of distracted and aggressive drivers, or both, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had an experience on the road in recent years that left ­­­me thinking, “Thank goodness I wasn’t on a motorcycle!"

​So I put the motorcycle up for sale, and before I had time for second thoughts, a young man was pulling into our driveway with a motorcycle trailer and a wad of cash. This would be his first motorcycle, he said, and seeing his excitement brought me joy. For good measure, I threw in saddlebags and a heap of other accessories and sent him and the bike off with my blessings.

The happy new owner

Now, my motorcycle days are memories. But what memories! 

Ever wonder what a gift-wrapped motorcycle looks like? This.

​It all started when Ray gave me my first bike—a Harley-Davidson 883 Sportster—the first Christmas we were together. (So much for that $100 gift limit we’d agreed upon.) I had yet to learn to ride, but riding had been high on my hope-to-do-list for a long time. So I signed up for a Motorcycle Safety Foundation Basic RiderCourse at a local community college the following spring, practiced in parking lots until I got up to speed, and then took to the road.

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Sitting on the bike for the first time. The tattoo was new then, too.

Parking-lot practice

​Together, Ray and I took motorcycle trips to Milwaukee, South Dakota, Oklahoma, and around the perimeter of Michigan’s mitten. I rode to work in Ann Arbor, and took long, meandering rides all over Southeast Michigan.

Setting up camp in Sturgis on one of our motorcycle trips

Taking a break on our ride around Michigan's mitten. My T-shirt reads: "A woman's place is on the road."

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​When I outgrew the 883, which Ray had customized for me, I sold it and moved up to a 1200 Sportster. With custom paint and Ray’s touches, it became my dream bike—just the right size and weight, with forward controls, a comfy seat, a stylish Sport Bob tank, spoked wheels, fringed lever covers, and other cool details.

The 1200 Sportster, just the way I wanted it

Fueling up for a ride on my beautiful bike

​At one point, I joined a women’s motorcycle group, the Chrome Divas of Motown, and though I’d always preferred riding solo or with Ray, I came to enjoy the camaraderie of our group rides and social activities. When my “bonus daughter” Michelle (Ray’s daughter) joined the Chrome Divas, riding together gave us new common ground.

Getting ready to ride with Michelle

Sharing a moment after a gas stop

Chrome Divas, ready to ride

​Riding gave Ray and me a lot of shared experiences, too, and it certainly made gift shopping easy. There was always one more bike accessory or piece of riding gear to be bought. One Valentine’s Day, Ray heard a jewelry store ad on the radio: “This Valentine’s Day, buy your sweetheart something shiny.” So naturally, he headed to the Harley dealer and brought home the perfect gift for his sweetheart: a chrome tachometer cover.

One birthday, I got a new gas tank, a speedometer, and various other motorcycle goodies.

​We covered a lot of asphalt over the years, and every memory of every ride—even a couple that resulted in broken bones—is a treasure.

Aftermath of a mishap

​Now, it’s on to new dreams. That wad of cash I got for the bike? It’s going into my fund for a trip back to Samoa. But before we take off on that journey, come with me on a trip back through my motorcycle memories.

​Ready? Cue up Bob Seger, roll on the throttle, and let’s ride!

Our first motorcycle trip together -- to the Harley-Davidson 90th anniversary celebration in Milwaukee in 1993

Those are all motorcycles on the left side of the highway -- all on their way from the fairgrounds to Milwaukee's Festival Park. We're in there somewhere!

Taking a break along the way

Ray in a sea of motorcycles at one of the Milwaukee events

Taking the ferry across Lake Michigan on our 1994 trip to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally in South Dakota

Sturgis street scene

Can't go anywhere without buying a T-shirt

Or two

Indulging in road food

Making the scene

In between longer trips, we took in rallies closer to home, like the Ogemaw Hills Motorcycle Rally in West Branch, MI

Ray at the rally

The 883 Sportster, after customizing

I had the top of the gas tank painted to match my tattoo. (The gas tank came out better.)

We even had a motorcycle on our wedding cake

And continued the celebration at West Branch

West Branch

Inadvertently (I swear!) wearing matching T-shirts on the first day of our Oklahoma trip

A gas stop on a thoroughly soggy day in Indiana. Riding rain or shine was part of the adventure.

Ray calming down after a nerve-wracking ride up a steep, narrow, and twisty mountain road in Arkansas

Goodbye to the 883. Ray helps the new owner load it up.

The 1200 -- still new but already being transformed

An early ride on the 1200

We had fun taking these dual-sport Yamahas with us to northern Michigan

Riding up north

But I was always a Harley girl at heart

Crossing the Belleville bridge was the beginning of many memorable rides

We discovered Muskegon Bike Time almost by accident on a house-hunting trip

We were glad we did -- great festival!

Ray strikes a pose at Bike Time

Our trip around Michigan's mitten was our last motorcycle trip together

Scenes like this made us fall more in love with Michigan every day.

Coffee stop in Glen Arbor

Another rainy day

. . . that finally drove us off the road and into a dry motel in Alpena. The rain was so blinding we couldn't make it one more mile to the Holiday Inn with indoor pool and restaurant. Bummer!

Then it was back on the road

And finally, safely home. This jubilation also sums up my feelings about all our motorcycle days.