So this happened.
Let me explain.
On a recent expedition to the island of Maui, I grabbed an opportunity to rent a rugged little motor scooter and set out to explore the NW corner of the island. Throwing caution to the wind, I donned my trusty swimsuit and a pair of well-worn flip-flops, embarking on a journey that offered thrills at a maximum speed of a mere 35mph. I found hidden beaches and twisty paths that cut deep back into the canopy of island trees. The experience was a perfect escape for my adventurous soul, and I was absolutely captivated before I departed back to the mainland.
It was more than a vacation activity. I was hooked on the freedom and fun that two wheels provided. At home, my new quest was to acquire a fun little scooter that would transport me through town and and carry me off the beaten path. For an added bonus, I was hoping for a scooter that would even take me into the heart of my beloved Sierra. I reached out to a long-standing patient of mine, who manages our local Honda dealership. I explained to him my vision, only to have him set me straight, asserting that what I truly required was an authentic motorcycle. After some spirited banter, he cheekily reminded me of the trust he places in my dental care, urging me to reciprocate by entrusting him with the realm of two-wheeled wonders.
Before I knew it, I completed a local CHP Motorcycle Safety course, I obtained my motorcycle license, and I became the proud owner of this beautiful Honda Trail 125.
Here’s the deal: I’ve never been drawn to owning or riding motorcycles. I always knew my dad rode a bike when he was younger. There is family stories about him on an original 1948 Harley. Check out the picture.
My dad on his 1948 Harley Davidson
Original Honda Trail 90 that my dad had as a kid
He stopped riding bikes when he got married, but when I was a kid, my dad bought an original Honda Trail 90 (like the one in the advertisement here). He would take me on rides down to our local creek bed and I didn’t think there was anything more cool than hanging onto my dad as we zoomed around the dirt.
When I got older, my dad graduated to his first Harley Davidson. New bike and again, very cool. In all those years, I never considered getting a motorcycle for myself, so even I was shocked at how quickly I found myself riding this brand new little bike.
This motorbike resonates with the call to adventure that I live with everyday! It has opened up even more of the Sierra Nevada mountains, granting me passage to even more of the wilderness, allowing me to ascend to greater heights along pristene streams. Since owning this fun bike, I have been able to conquer new rugged terrains that have remained elusive to my car or my own two feet.
Riding around the forest trails in the Stanislaus National Forest.
To say that I’m hooked is an understatement. There is nothing like climbing a Sierra trail and riding alongside a fresh mountain stream while enjoying the smell of fresh pine trees. I will be reporting on many more motorbike adventures, but for now enjoy these photos from this past week.
Quietly making noise,
Fletch
Parked alongside the Clavey River.