This past weekend my husband, Forrest, made a huge decision and traded in his tried and true 2001 Honda Shadow ACE 750 for a 2004 HD Road King. It was an interesting process to watch because as riders, we all have sentimental attachments to our motorcycles. While my husband loved his ACE, it just wasn’t enough bike for him anymore and yet he was torn because he had experienced so many great times with it. He had been across country on it, helped me practice my riding on it and we both experienced some great rides together with it. It sounds silly, but it was a part of tour family.
Instead of me trying to write about it from an outsider’s point of view, I asked him if he’d guest write a post to share with us what was going on in his head through the whole experience. Thankfully, he said yes! I hope you guys enjoy the read as much as I did.
-Liz
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It was an uncomfortable sleep, tossing from side to side on my raggedy sleeping bag. At 4AM I emerged from my tent back out into the fluorescent lights of the conference room and back to confines of my cubicle. Stephen King’s first major e-book Riding the Bullet was set to go live in a matter of hours. The internet was waiting and investors were watching.
During the height of the dot com bubble I daydreamed of being retired at 35 riding through the South West on a Harley with not a care in the world. I had tons of stock options and in no time the world would all be using our e-book product. A few months later I was handed a severance check and a pink slip as our dot com went dot bomb. My millions in stock options were worth about six cents but I still had my dream of riding, a few grand and a clear calender.
I walked into the local Honda dealership with a wad of cash in my pocket and rode out on a brand spanking new 2001 Honda Shadow ACE. After buzzing around town for a week I over packed and headed west looking like Clarke Griswald turned biker. With no real riding experience my riding goals and motorcycle time management were ridiculous and after a few days of 18 to 20 hours in the saddle I pitched my old cubicle tent outside in fresh air on a South Dakota hillside. I finally gave in to Sturgis calling me and along with hundreds of thousands of my close personal friends rode the Black Hills and tossed back a few beers.
My ACE was a champ. As-long-as I lubed the chain before going to bed and shined her pretty before heading out in the morning she never complained. She was my baby and if I treated her right she would take me to places and show me things I only dreamed of before. After my first week on the road with the ACE looking more like a pack mule than a free spirited steed it was time to lighten the load. Stopping at the Sturgis High School where UPS set up a make shift depot I packed up everything but a change of clothes, my maps and cameras. It was a valuable 60 pound lesson.
The next three weeks adventure created biker stories that would be told and retold on later adventures or just swapping tales with fellow riders along my journeys. I rode through the Rockie mountains, across stretches of Historic Route 66 got caught in a hurricane in Texas, saw the biggest ball of twine and all sorts of other things that only motorcyclists would care about.
Eventually I made my way back to New England with summer in my past. When I brought my bike in for service Steve the manager said it was one of the quickest 20,000 miles he had ever seen put on a 750.
Home now I worked during the week and spent my free time keeping my bike in tip top condition for my next adventure. I’d work and save then meet friends on the road. I worked some more and bought presents for my bike. A new sissy bar and luggage rack so the next trip could be two-up. Better springs and progressive shocks so I could take a trip to the Tail of the Dragon in style. All the chrome and all the extras went into that bike. And my ACE gave back. Other riders always complimented my bike and were impressed by the miles I put on. Never any mechanical problems even after being overloaded by 150 pounds and riding through the rain and snow.
As time went on we got comfortable together and began to take each other for granted. I didn’t spend the time I used to cleaning and polishing every nook and cranny. In turn she didn’t give me the power, throttle response and confidence she once did. I still loved her and treated her well but it wasn’t the same. One night I was riding home from work and went down. Luckily I had put crash bars on the ACE and she sustained only minor damage. I on the other hand was laid up for over 6 months.
When you have a motorcycle accident, doctors and nurses are quick to let you know they refer to bikers as “organ doners.” Physical theripasts tell you not to ride again or you might hurt this or that. For me one of my main focuses was getting my ACE back in shape and going for a ride, at least one last ride.
When I was well enough to go outside I would try to detail my bike, neglected no more she was to be the shinyest bike in all the land (or at least on my block). As I recovered I thought about that feeling the first time I took my bike on the highway. All those moments of adrenaline rush and all the wonderful places I’d been on the ACE.
One May morning I hopped on my sparkling clean Honda ACE and with friends by my side hit the road again. I was nervous for about 3 minutes then a rush of emotion came over me and I was happy. I was back.
My perspective had changed, as is often the case, major traumatic events are a catalyst to other life changing decisions. My former girlfriend whom I was pursuing was by my side not to leave, ever. She also decided to take the MSF course and get her own bike even after me being busted up and other friends having accidents.
Over the next few years with my best friend and now girlfriend again riding next to me more adventures were had. The ACE once again got the nurturing it deserved even if it wasn’t the only steed in the stable anymore. She continued to give me all she had and I treated her right, knowing full well that her all was not good enough.
As a rider each experience you have on the bike should make you a better rider. Every time some jackhole takes a left in front of you, it is a learning experience. Different road conditions, weather conditions, sights, sounds, and smells are merely put there for us to learn from and grow. I found that I had out grown my reliable ACE. I want to carry more weight than she can safely handle. I want to have more emergency power on the throttle when that 18 wheeler comes flying up my butt at 90mph in the mountains of West Virginia.
We were at a crossroads. It was time to say goodbye.
This weekend I rode my faithful 2001 Honda Shadow ACE with about 55,000 miles on it into the Harley dealership and made my peace with our separation. I realized my dream of owning a Harley Davidson Road King. My FLHCI is a 2004 with less miles on it than I put on the ACE our first month together. I always said my next bike would be black, but to my surprise it’s silver pearl just like my ACE was, with all the extras I put on my ACE and all the extras I wanted for my ACE but never got around to getting.
As excited as I am to join the collective, part of me is a little sad to see the ACE go. She served me well and doesn’t owe me a thing. If inanimate objects could emote, I hope she would say she enjoyed our adventures together. Hopefully someone as festidious as me finds her some day and is inspired to treat her well. I know she will repay the favor.
by Robbie Marshall.
