A story about the life changing decision to be a part of something bigger than myself…

I guess my story begins, not so much with in the recent years of my decision, but back when I was a young child. As far back as I can remember and vague flash backs of memories I have been exposed to the sound of a motorcycle engine, the sight of street and dirt bikes, and the smells of gas and oil.

I imagined my little tricycle had a 2-stroke motor and I would let my imagination run free and let my little tricycle take me to speeds that were 100 times faster than my reality. I always had a feeling of wanting to move and go fast.

First Bicycle - 2 years old

 I was told stories from my parents and family that I was always moving and never at a standstill. True to this day and have a hard time settling down although it is more mental motion than it is physical as my body is starting to wear down. Yet when I am riding my motorcycle moving at speeds that are not considered legal, everything slows down to a standstill and allows me to contemplate on life and decisions.

Before I received my first motorcycle and after my imaginary 2-stroke tricycle my father would put me on his bike with him. I have vague memories of riding his dirt bike and street bikes putting around. When I was around 3-4 years old I remember he placed me in front of him on the tank of his bike and rode from Los Angeles to San Diego. I remember laying there on the tank bag, too small to see over the tank and windscreen but looking to the side watching the road reflectors flashing by and the landscaping changing like a movie in fast forward
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3-4 years old

This was my first experience of feeling the wind pass by my ears, hitting my skin. Feeling the temperature changes and smelling the trees that line the miles of freeway and being fully exposed to the environment in all aspects. It was a sense of freedom and purity, minus the smog that lingers constantly over Los Angeles.

I received my first motorcycle at the age of 4. I was at my grandparent’s house in Riverside, CA. It was Christmas morning when I noticed this small yellow Yamaha 50cc bike next to the tree. There was also a big yellow helmet and matching gear. If my memory serves me right I believe I was able to ride it that day and it did not end well.

First Motorcycle 50cc Yamaha - 5 years old

My family lived in a house in Los Angeles that had a small back yard that bordered a school playground. It was no bigger than any other standard property you would find now in a standard neighborhood. Eventually this backyard would turn into my personal race track. It started off as a standard oval shape circle as I practiced turning and keeping my bike on two wheels. I remember riding every day when I got home from school. I was allowed one tank of gas till the bike was empty and I used every last drop in that tank. Eventually the turns turned into berms and there was a little bump added in the straight away.

While most kids were out in the street riding their bicycles and skateboards, I spent almost every day in the backyard riding my motorcycle. It was a little embarrassing to admit that at this time I could not ride a bicycle to save my life. It was not the balance I had an issue with, but more of the lack of forward momentum. I didn’t learn to ride a bicycle to many years later in my childhood.

For me it was all or nothing. The Yamaha 50cc bike I had was an automatic; my dad quickly realized that I would use all 50cc horsepower if I could, which explained the governor pin he placed in the throttle of the bike.

My dad and I spent almost every weekend at the Perris Raceway Motorcycle track in Riverside, CA. I would watch my dad race along with all other races of all ages. Some of these races I watched where located on a small track tucked away in the corner of the raceway. This was the peewee race track and these where kids my age racing. It was not long after I received my yellow Yamaha 50cc and logged endless laps in the backyard that I would be racing on one of these tracks. My first race was just before my 5^th birthday.

Taking a break between races - Perris Raceway  

The rest was history and I was hooked on racing, riding motorcycles, going as fast and as high as I could. I eventually received bigger bikes with bigger motors as I physically grew and became a better rider. Moving from a 60CC and learning to shift and use a clutch, to an 80cc, 125cc and eventually making a jump to the 4 stroke engine around the turn of the millennium.

2nd Motorcycle 60cc Kawasaki - 7-8 years old

Over the years of racing and moving up to bigger and faster bikes would eventually end my desire and capability of racing. The numerous crashes and broken bones suffered throughout the years can take a toll on the body and even a young body. Looking back, some were funny and stupid and I can laugh that I was able to walk away from, other are just frightening to even think about. Although I gave up on the hope and dream of becoming a super cross champion the thoughts and feeling of riding a motorcycle never really leaves you.

Years later as an adult I would acquire a street motorcycle. I would ride everywhere, sometimes to the beach to escape the heat of the inland valley or head into the mountains to curve through the trees and get some fresh air. It didn’t really matter where I was going but as long as I was on two wheels. The sense of freedom and openness is hard to explain in words, it is just something you need to experience. It’s like the saying goes “only a biker truly understands why a dog sticks its head out the window”

After some time of riding alone, occasionally with a few friends I met many different characters along the road and at various stops along most of my rides. Being somewhat introverted I have always kept to myself and never minded the solitude the open rode provided me. It reminded me a lot of when I was surfing every day. Finding peace and time alone in a vast ocean, absorbing yourself in the environment and letting your mind get lost in the moment. Being alone on an empty stretch of highway in the middle of the desert is very similar and therapeutic.

Open Road

I noticed the groups of riders and motorcycle clubs, either along the way or at these various stops along a ride. I knew of most of them and their affiliation amongst the “community”. I would observe the pecking order and how they functioned, many times it was comical. They just looked like sheep flocking and unable or willing to stand on their two feet as individuals. The group-thug mentality was strong with these guys. Still, being a part of a group or motorcycle club was not appealing to me at the time. I viewed many of these groups and clubs dangerous and not the kind of dangerous you think, but the fact that over half of them could not ride worth shit. I felt safer riding alone and alone I rode.

Riding alone is a double edge sword. It has its advantages and disadvantages. When you ride alone you have the freedom to use up the entire lane, go as fast or as slow as you want. Stop whenever and wherever you please without having to consult with anyone else. The disadvantages of being alone are more on the serious note. If you have issues or problems with your bike, you better know your shit and how to fix it or have a good back up plan or resources. Many places in the middle of nowhere have little to none cell phone service. The other disadvantage that had always weighed heavy on my mind was crashing or going down on the bike while alone. The probability and chances of a motorcycle rider going down is much greater than any other traveler. If you went down on your bike and you are riding alone, you are just that…alone.

Riding solo on a trip to nowhere -2010

Still comfortable in my solitude I did learn many valuable lessons. It did not matter how stubborn I was and self-sufficient, at many points along the way I would have to swallow my pride and seek help and guidance. This would eventually lead me to the decision to become a part of something bigger than myself.

I worked at a consulting company based in a semi-industrial complex. My office desk sat at a corner office with a window looking out to a parking lot. Every morning a motorcycle would ride into the parking lot and walk into a small office across the way. I never really paid him much attention except from the corner of my eye as he passed by my window each morning. One morning I was just staring out when he passed by and I noticed that he was part of a motorcycle club. The following day I made it a point to find out who he rode with as I did not recognize the patch. I did my research and would read everything about that club as I did with any other organization, not because I was interested, but just more curious.

One morning I was out front drinking my coffee when he pulled in the parking lot and parked. I figured I would walk over and introduce myself. At the time, this was a very unlikely thing for me to do. As I walked up, he stepped off his bike to turn to me. As he swung his leg over and started to stand straight I then noticed I was looking up at a 6’7” guy with hands that resemble a bunch of bananas. He introduced himself as “Easy” and we started chatting a bit about bikes. He mentioned he noticed my bike each morning and wondered who it belonged to. We eventually parted ways, not before he gave me one of his cards with his contact information on it and invited me to join them on the next ride.

Weeks later I gave Easy a call, he mentioned that they are riding up to Los Angeles for a clubhouse party in the San Fernando Valley. They are leaving in the morning. I decided to take the opportunity to ride with them and see what they are about. The next morning many where not able to go for various reasons, but the President of the chapter at the time was going up, so I met up with him and rode a couple of hours up to LA. Arriving to the club house I didn’t know what to expect and was open minded. From first impression I noticed this group did not gather and function like other clubs. They stood together, but as each their own man. I was considered a guest and introduced as such. I was treated with respect and made very welcome.

Little did I know at this time that my mind was entertaining hanging out with these guys in the future and it was the beginning of becoming something bigger than myself. Weeks later I would be contacted from various members of the local chapter in San Diego and invited out to grab some food and beers. At the time I was very much a home-body and absorbed myself in books, art and music at home. It was kind of nice to make new friends that enjoyed the love of motorcycles and riding as much as I did. I found myself hanging out with these guys more and more, actually wanting to hang out with them.

As time went by and many meetings and riding with this group, I was eventually invited to start the process of becoming a part of this group. The details between the time periods of starting the process to become a member of this club to actually becoming a member of the club will not be discussed in this, but we will fast forward a year. I would say that the journey had its up’s and down’s, but I do not regret a day of it.

Riding with the chapter - 2013

I owe the club and every member much gratitude and appreciation. It has made me a better person, husband, father, brother, and friend. It has opened my eyes to many things I failed to notice and experience in the past. It has allowed me to be more open and trust again. It is comprised of men that have the same mind set, are capable of standing on their own two feet, but care enough and love enough to put aside their own personal agenda to care for yours. This is what the club teaches you, to become completely selfness. It is a very humbling feeling. What this creates is a very synergistic feeling of paying it forward which affects all involved and also every friend, family and persons that come in contact with anyone from the organization. I trust these men with my life and my family; ultimately they are an extension of my family.

This is my journey in a nutshell that depicts my decisions and choices I made in my life to becoming part of something bigger than myself. I could fill pages of personal stories and events that happen along the way, some scary, some embarrassing, and most pretty funny.  I believe each of us have a destiny and path. The path is not always clear and we are bound to get lost along the way and take a few wrong turns, but when you find whatever it is that you need in your life, you will know it, because it is a powerful feeling and always much bigger than yourself.

Riding - 2014

If you want to be happy

for a day, drink

If you want to be happy

for a year, marry

If you want to be happy

for a lifetime, ride a motorcycle