An annual ritual that I’ve had since the first time I rode on a motorcycle (at 12 years old, about 8 years ago) is “Biker Envy.” I plan on getting a bike. I’ve had dreams about my own bike. All of my dreams of adulthood since I was 12 have involved motocycles. I find myself checking out motorcycles the moment that it warms up to 65 farenheit in Utah, because that is when all the bikers start riding after a dry spell through winter.
This year, I got it bad.
Mostly because I’ve had my eye on a bike on ksl for 1 year, and it was sold last week. Mostly because that is going to be my first major purchase as soon as I can get a job, which will be this summer. But mostly because I’ve turned 20, and by now I thought I would have been riding a bike for 3 years. Plus it looks like I’m not going to be able to save up enough money to buy my bike until after the summer, which will give me a month tops to safely ride it before next summer. Which really hurts. It means that I won’t be an actual experienced rider until I’m 21, even if I do ride nonstop during that month.
Plus my Dad’s motorcycle (1978 Yamaha Verago 750) has a broken starter which means that I can’t even ride on the back until it gets fixed (which might take forever because my dad’s not even looking interesting in fixing it) and because all of my motorcycle riding friends have moved out-of-state.
I have Biker Envy so bad that when my friends notice a really hot guy on a motorcycle, and they think I saw him because my head was following his bike, I can’t even remember the gender of the rider. Because I’m busy checking out their ride. I also wave at every single rider, because deep down I know we’re cut from the same cloth.
I’ll admit I’ve been flirting with riders, too. It’s just a fact that bikers are hotter, though not so much if they have a bullet bike. Bullet Bike riders seem to not get the point of a bike, plus all of that plastic covers up what could be a powerful bike.
Whenever I walk past the motorcycle parking at my college to the bus stop and I see a younger rider strapping on their helmet, I’m always tempted to ask, “Can you just take me on a ride around the block?” Because I want a ride so bad.
I’ll admit it, I’m addicted to motorcycles and I have a huge case of Biker Envy, this year.