Gun's Quote:
"Money can buy some things to create happiness, but it can never buy happiness."
-Ellen J. Barrier
So I decided to pull the trigger. I was going to buy a bike. I knew I knew nothing, and I was going to need help. Where was that help going to come from?
We actually have to go back in time a few weeks, back to June, just before I took the MSF class.
Because of COVID, the Junior College Website incorrectly left on their MSF page that students would be REQUIRED to bring their own helmet and gloves because the school wasn't loaning them out for health and safety reasons. (They had actually changed that policy a few months prior) For that reason, I wandered into Cycle Gear, quite literally a stone's throw from my house. I heard about Cycle Gear as being "The" store to go to for purchasing motorcycle gear, and its proximity to my home only continued to reinforce the already-absurd notion that God himself wanted me to do this. The coincidences just kept adding up time and time again.
So I'm in the store. There are a handful of customers on the floor, and two guys standing behind the counter. Very much in keeping with my personality, I boldly declare in a loud voice that I have no idea what I'm doing and that I need somebody to point me in the right direction.
It was as if I sounded a battle cry. I had 5 people surrounding me in 15 seconds flat, all asking questions about how much experience I had, what bike I bought, why I got in to motorcycling, how tall I was, what colors I liked, my waste size, my head size, my shoe size and, finally, if I wanted to go on a ride with them. I wish I recorded the scene. It would have been a perfect sketch comedy.
It would be here I would meet Elliot, a member of the KC Sportbike Society. In addition to giving me pointers on how well my helmet should fit, he made me pull my phone out and request membership in the Society's Facebook group. Knowing so few people who rode and knowing I was going to need the advice anyway, I signed up. I filled out the application by stating, "I know nothing and just want to ask questions and learn. Elliot said I should join this group." Apparently, that was good enough for their leadership, who let me in within the hour.
I walked out of Cycle Gear with a helmet, gloves, and membership in KC Sportbike Society.
After passing the MSF and getting a 15% off coupon to Cycle Gear, I walked back in on July 17th, where I would purchase the remainder of my gear. Jacket, pants, boots, and armor.
Once again, very much in keeping with my personality, I declared on the KC Sportbike Society Facebook Page that I had passed my MSF, purchased my gear, got my motorcycle endorsement and was now, officially, on the market for a used motorcycle. That's when I was introduced to Ben.
Ben's a college student who had been riding for two years. He had a 2014 Kawasaki Ninja 300 ABS Special Edition that he learned to ride on. I was invited over to his house to take a look at the bike. So, on July 24th, gear in hand, barely out of its packaging, tags still dangling from the pants, I paid him a visit. I must have looked like a moron. (Oops, that's an ANT!!)
Ben described the bike in every detail. Every service record was kept in a Manila folder, along with the title. Ben described all work he had done to the bike and all work he knew NEEDED to be done to the bike. After the oral description and the brief walk-around, he asked if I wanted to take a test ride.
"Look," I said, quite anxiously, "I just got done with the MSF and have very little experience. I obviously don't own it and I don't want to damage it."
Ben chuckled. "Let me show you the ropes."
For the next 30 minutes, Ben basically gave me a riding lesson on his motorcycle. Despite the MSF, every bike feels different and has its own... personality. Ben showed me the clutch friction zone, showed me where to rev the throttle to take off, and stood there holding the bike while I got the feel down for starting off so that I didn't just kill it or otherwise fall over. In 20 minutes or so, I was doing 180s in his cul-de-sac. They were slow, and a foot was down most of the time, but they were still 180s.
Ben had absolutely no reason to go out of his way to show me the ropes on his bike, just like Elliot didn't have to take the time to make sure my helmet fit. They did it anyway. There were at least three other people in Cycle Gear who pointed out the various features, drawbacks and value of the boots, jackets and pants I would try on, and I forgot all of their names except for Joe, who works there, and I now see on the regular.
What is the one thing all of these guys had in common? I was a perfect stranger to them, and they showed me kindness, patience, and friendship. I was foreign to this newfound world and the people in it and was welcomed before I owned anything at all.
Of course, it doesn't end there.
Ben knew Nate, and Nate is a mechanic. On August 5th, he inspected Ben's bike for me, reinforced what Ben already said about it needing new sprockets, a chain, and a brake fluid flush, then offered to do the work himself in his garage so that I didn't have to pay full price at a dealership.
On August 8th, Ben drove the Kawi to my home, where we signed papers and he handed over the keys. I bought a bike. More than that, I made a new friend. Several, really.
After months of thinking, praying, consulting, questioning, and watching in awe at how everything was unfolding in front of me almost supernaturally, my two-wheeled adventure commenced.
Meet Gunblade, my motorcycle.
...and that's why it's a Gun's Quote!!
