Just a Jew. Named Mitch. Writing about his feelings.

Motorcyles and Moving On

Posted by JewMitch on June 16, 2009

21496_0_1_2_eliminator 125_Image credits - Kawasaki

Since I was little, I have always wanted to learn how to ride a motorcycle. While most people want to get a motorcycle license so they can go really fast or pick up girls, I have secretly always wanted my motorcycle license because if there is a zombie apocalypse of some sort – motorcycles will clearly be the ideal form of transportation. And although this may have something to do with reading The Stand several times when I was a kid, I still think this is a completely logical thought. All the roads will be congested with broken down cars, and unless you want to push a gay shopping cart like in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road, you better know how to riding a fucking bike.

Unlike most people who would have a thought like this and then move on with their lives, one summer I decided to actually do it. I found out that the Maryland MVA teaches a class on how to ride a motorcycle for like $250 and at the end of the class, they give you your motorcycle license test. So I signed up, took the class, passed the test by one point (despite being a little hung over) and got my license.

That should have been the end of it; I now knew how to ride a motorcycle and would be adequately prepared for post-apocalyptic society.  Except for a girl I met at a block party, who was beautiful and crazy. The relationship lasted a few tumultuous months before coming to a screeching halt one night when I found out that she had been sleeping around and lying to me a lot. We wound up breaking up with one of those huge “lets never talk again” fights, which I’m now becoming famous for.

The next morning I woke up and asked my roommate if she could give me a ride to the motorcycle dealership. She said, “Didn’t you break up with your girlfriend last night? Are you sure you want to make such a major purchase on impulse like this?” To which I replied, “Yes.” And off we went.

I found a great starter bike that was only $2,400 (it’s actually the same model that is in the picture at the top of this post), took out a five year loan so that my payments were only like $60 a month, and the bike was mine. The only problem was that I wasn’t very good at riding it. Which is surprising, because I had spent an entire FOUR days learning.

I kept the bike for two years, and amazingly only fell off it twice, and incurred only minor injuries each time. But when I decided to move to New York (another impulse/post break-up decision), I knew I needed to sell the bike because if I brought it to New York I was sure I’d be dead in a week. Or at least have a broken leg. But probably be dead.

A friend offered to buy the bike and we made a fool proof plan, where I would rent a U-Haul to move to New York, put my stuff and the bike in the U-Haul, and then drop off the bike on my way to New York. Everything would have worked out perfectly, except U-Haul makes you pay by the mile, so I wound up renting a truck from Budget, and Budget’s ten foot trucks don’t have ramps.

Picking up the bike didn’t work; my bike weighed close to 700 pounds. Hypothetically, I could have rode the bike to my friend’s house, except he lived way out in the county, and like I said, I wasn’t very good at riding the bike. Around my neighborhood – fine. On the highway – no fucking way. Plus, could you imagine getting into a motorcycle accident on the day you’re supposed to move to New York City?

I called my dad and we came up with a brilliant, but ridiculous solution. We would go to Home Depot, buy wood, and make a ramp. We made sides for the ramp, used reinforced wood, and the bike went up the ramp like a champ. Of course, getting it down the ramp was another story, and when we finally delivered the bike, it didn’t want to start. But I still consider this to be an amazing testament to human ingenuity. And I just really wanted an excuse to share this awesome photo on the blog:


Like Maguiver. If he had access to a Home Depot.


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