My wild one streak came to an end yesterday when a nice man from Sonora came up and bought my motorcycle. It’s now tearing up the roads south of the border.
Despite determined PT, my right knee wouldn’t bend correctly after replacement surgery, and riding was no longer the pleasure it once was. Not only that, the twist in my knee made it hard to work the foot brake and I was relying on the front hand brake alone for all my stopping — fine for everyday riding, but you need ‘em both when the inevitable cager swerves into your path. It was time to stop riding.
Not a bad run, though. I started riding in 1965, 57 years ago. I’m 75 now. It would have been nice to make it into my 80s on two wheels, but it’s not to be.
Here are a few happy memories from recent years. If you’d like to know more, click here for a photoblog of my motorcycling history.