I promise that when the time comes for you to make your own decision about whether to ride, I will be both supportive and realisticMotorcycles have given me more joy, and more pain, in my own life than I would ever have imagined possible. Just like my folks (neither of whom rode, although my dad did eventually succumb, getting his own bike and riding with us when I was a teenager) always said when I was a kid pestering them for his very own dirt bike, motorcycles are dangerous. That danger is to be neither ignored nor denied; it is to be faced, squarely and honestly, and dealt with on its own terms.
You gotta pay for your thrills one way or another, and when it comes to riding motorcycles, the tariff can easily be your very life. But cringing away from risk isn’t the answer; hell, it’s downright un-British if you ask me. In fact, a large part of the fun of so many endeavors, hobbies, or lifestyle choices is successfully defying the risk involved and coming out the other side a wiser and more experienced human being. This is by no means an accident.
At the same time, only a fool recklessly rolls the dice when he knows his bag of tricks is empty, or inadequate to cover his bets. If my daughter wants to learn to ride someday—and if she’s anything at all like her mam and dad, who have both been daredevils and hellraisers their whole lives long, then she almost certainly will—I owe it to her to give her the benefit of my years of experience riding everything on two wheels I ever had the opportunity to straddle.
As if British-style thug politics wasn't bad enough - now there is the deadly fear of senior citizen biker gangs riding roughshod through the Windy towns !! and bendy roads,Be careful
I'm a grandma biker,so no! I wont grow up!