I began riding motorcycles in my early teens. My 1979 Honda XL500s became my best friend. I had a few teenage neighbors and school friends that rode too. Other than winter, whenever we could, we'd be off somewhere on our bikes.
Then came the double life leading JW girlfriend my senior year. I still rode my motorcycle, but ... I had a girlfriend! Everything else faded into the background.
.... Skipping the snare into the cult portion ...
When studying to become a JW, my instructor convinced me that riding a motorcycle wasn't in harmony with being a friend of God. Motorcycle riding is dangerous. You are willingly risking your life in a way that isn't necessary, showing Jehovah that you really don't have a deep appreciation for the gift of life and the value he put on it by offering his son.
So ... I sold my motorcycles.
Over the years I would meet different brothers that had street bikes and dirt bikes. In my mind of course, they must be spiritually weak.
I remember one year at a convention in Green Bay, WI (go Packers), there was a missionary sister visiting and giving her experience serving in South America. The main thing I remember was that her form of transportation was a motorcycle. A MOTORCYCLE! Certainly she wasn't spiritually weak! What a conforming idiot I was! Of course, as time goes on you learn that, different areas, different congregations, have their own personalities and rules.
Point is ... Finally! Last year I bought myself a motorcycle.
Suzuki Boulevard M50.
I love my motorcycle. My JW wife won't go for a ride with me. Not even around the block. That's okay, I really don't want her to.
Yesterday I installed a windshield and I'm about to set out on a small ride and enjoy the scenery.
