Motorcycling

It has been at least a dozen years since I rode a motorcycle but every time I see one, parked or moving, it catches my eye.  I no longer have the balance, vision or coordination to ride so I would be risking life and limb to do so.  However, every time I see a bike it stirs memories within me of the great experiences I have had over several decades of riding.  I was not just a weekend rider.  Over the years I have owned several dozen bikes and have often traveled great distances merely for the joy of riding.   I commuted to work for more than twenty years almost exclusively by motorcycle.  The daily commute was, depending on where I lived, at least sixty miles on congested Los Angeles freeways.  A lifetime of riding has netted me nearly a million miles, a record few people can claim. 

My riding effectively came to an end through an accident. The chances of having an accident in an intersection is very small but multiply that chance by passing through thousands upon thousands of intersections and eventually your number comes up, as mine did.  I completely shattered my right leg below the knee.  Today, many years later, I still carry enough steel hardware in that leg to open my own hardware store.  But it is not over.  The knee cartiledge is now gone and bone-to-bone grinding is tearing my knee apart.  Arthritis is taking over.  My doctor says I am a candidate for knee replacement surgery which will be tricky due to all the hardware I am carrying.

How do I feel about this?  If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn't change a thing.  I will carry my riding experiences with me to the grave and more than nearly anything else I have ever done, riding has defined and shaped my life.  Even complete loss of my leg would not make me regret what I have done.