Nice....and sums it up. After a life on two wheels, family members' constantly voiced fears and negativity made me choose getting rid of my bikes. Now seven years later they're hammering me again, FTW and them....I'm back up.
I wrecked in 09/93 with my new bike coming in the beginning of 10/93. Laying on the gurney in the ER, roadrash everywhere, broken bones, etc., I whispered; "doc, hey doc". He said; "it's OK Mr. Stern, no internal injuries, your ribs and hands will heal fine". Said to him; "no doc, it's not that - I need to know, HOW SOON CAN I RIDE AGAIN"! Man was he PISSED, like; "I don't get you assholes. They scrape you off the road, airlift you in here all broken up, and all you idiots are interested in is getting BACK ON A MOTORCYCLE. What the hell is up with you guys?"
My reply? "IF I HAVE TO EXPLAIN, YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND ANYWAY"...
Spent every day in my friends shop when I got out of the hospital, working my clutch hand for an hour in the morning and again in the afternoon (severely dislocated thumb).
Picked up my new bike 3 weeks after the accident. A buddy of mine took me down to get it. Told me he was watching me in his rearview as we left the dealer. I was all tensed up and had this scared look about me. Then after a couple of blocks, he saw me start to relax, and then this BIG SHITEATING GRIN came across my face, as I whacked the throttle and passed him.
Very few who DON'T RIDE, can ever hope to understand what motivates us to do what we do, despite the incredible risk to life and limb. I don't expect some of them EVER WILL.
Ever see the smile on a DOGS FACE with his head hanging out a car window? THAT'S US!