Coming from 2 muscle head parents ive always been brought up watching Nascar every sunday, attending the yearly race in Fontana, attending the NHRA winternationals, and Supercross. My first real love for something with two wheels, came when i was, id say 7. I still remember it like it was yesterday, my dads Neon red CRF250. Id beg him, up and down, every damn day to take me around the block. When it happened, id never want him to stop. At the time i really had no idea what it was about motorcycles that attracted me, but hell i enjoyed it that was enough. Few years later asked my dad to show me how to ride, took me out to the desert and with a small lesson on how to use the clutch, and how to shift it out of neutral and back in, along with a quote ill never forget “get on it and figure it out and OH! dont forget there are 2 types of riders, ones that have been down, and ones that are going down” he sent me on my way.
My desert motorcycle riding experience has lasted throughout my whole teenage life until now. Funny thing is, being a desert dweller, id never guess that id own, or be interested in a street bike. But here comes my best friend down the street on his new street bike. That bastard. I convinced him to let me take her around the block, and yea me never owning a street bike took a abrupt turn.
My first street bike love came way of a horrendously loud, snappy, chattering noise from my neighbors driveway across the way. Hearing this noise i run outside, walk across the street, and begin to try to roll my tongue back in my mouth. Staring me in my face was a Ducati Monster. It was drop dead gorgeous, it reminded me of that woman you want so badly but if you touched her horrible things would happen to you; yea it was that pretty. I had to have one. Telling my mother damn near gave her a heart attack, and my dad had to throw his smart 2 cents out by telling me that pavement hurts alot more than dirt, but it didn’t stop me. God bless my dad for letting me use his Harley to suffice my motorcycle urge, while i did everything for the money to get me a ducati.
Around a year later ended up picking up a 2001 Ducati Monster 900 SIE from craigslist. Bike was beautiful, and hand built from the guy i purchased it from. Damn near everything was one off, or a rare part, which makes things wonderful thinking it may be on the ground half destroyed at some point in its life. After owning the bike for nearly 2 years, i find it funny how i look at street bikes now. There is something about that damn motorcycle, The people who haven’t owned one will never understand. Its one of those things that cant really be explained. Im going to try my best, but i doubt i will give it what its due. I have not found anything else in this world where when my minds in a bind, i can do to calm the time. I can have a completely shit day, where nothing is going right, I’m frustrated, tired, and angry. My motorcycle provides something that makes those feeling disappear. Who would of thought, a 2 wheeled machine with a engine, can completely change the outlook on someones life.
I sit here and ponder about the full tank of gas she has, and how today is Sunday so i can run her up to the canyon and get some time in. Oh lord i think its time to go throw on my leathers. . . .