Though this one was somewhat expected. Since his retirement, with our children grown, hubby decided he wanted to take up motorcycle riding. He scheduled the state required safety class. The day before the class, we were on a bicycle ride after having had his bicycle serviced at the local bike shop and on the Huckleberry Trail where we often walk, there is a hill with a turn at the bottom. On the way back to the car, so going downhill, he had an accident that later appeared to have been the result of a serious miss adjustment of his brakes. He ended up breaking his left humerus very close to his shoulder. We were able, under the circumstances to cancel the class and they even gave him a refund. About a year later, two months after his 70th birthday, he signed up for the class again, stayed off the bicycle and successfully completed the class on a small Honda motorcycle. After the class, he located a similar used Honda and we bought it.
Now you need to understand that we live in the mountains, two miles up a macadam road, two tenths of a mile down a gravel road, and another two tenths of a mile down a gravel driveway, so not the flat parking lot that he took the class on. The motorcycle was picked up on a rented trailer and unloaded at home. He learned to deal with the gravel, and the twisty mountain roads and would disappear for hours, Zen riding as he put it, no destination in mind, sometimes, not even knowing where he was. His exploration lead him to places that we later visited in the car, sometimes looking for new adventures for him.
After about 6 months, he sold the Honda and got the Harley Davidson he really wanted and rode it over a very mountainous rural road the hour plus home. Going out Zen riding was his pleasure. Though I didn’t like to be a passenger, it was something I supported as it made him very happy. He even rode it to Florida one summer to visit our daughter when she lived there, with Grandson 1 and me as his support vehicle.
Two years ago, riding became uncomfortable, causing neck and back pain and he was only able to ride for very short periods of time, then mostly not at all. Last week, the Harley was past due on state inspection and in need of annual servicing as well as having a mirror repaired, so he rode it to the city. The mirror held up the return until a call yesterday that it was ready, but it was raining. This morning, we rode to the city to either pick it up, or sadly for him, to sell it to the dealer, a decision he had a hard time coming to. The dealer bought his bike, the end of an era for him. He is understandably sad this afternoon.