It’s been one of the toughest, yet one of the easiest decsions that I’ve ever had to make, but I’ve decided to hang up the helmet. The morning after the accident I woke up and decided that I couldn’t put my wonderful family and this tired old body through this pain again, so it was time to quit.
Some will undoubtedly ply me with wise sayings like getting back on the horse that threw you, or point out to me examples of people who have ridden well into their old age.
All of this is fair, but they don’t apply to me.
Fact is, I have enjoyed an exhilirating 37 years of riding and I can, and do, leave with no regrets (except for the amount of time that my hedonistic passion has kept me away from my wife and children). Yes, there’s a couple of things on my bucket list that won’t get done -ride Tasmania, ride around Australia, but I can live with that.
I’ve commuted, scratched, tracked and toured. I’ve used the bike every opportunity that I could, and, yes, I’ve MADE opportunities as well. I’ve ridden in sun, rain, sleet, ice and every other condition as well. Riding has been my all-consuming passion to the (often selfish) exclusion of everything else.
I count myself incredibly fortunate to have had the myriad of experiences I’ve had, and to still be alive after the ferocious event of a fortnight ago. I know some riders who have only been able to ride for a few years before they have had to pack it in.
So, what do I have to complain about? Nothing.
I cherish every memory and I am grateful beyond words for the wonderful friends and acquaintances that I have been able to make. The support and encouragement that I have received since the accident from my friends and mates and even people I have never met, has been overwhelming. It has proven what I have always said that motorcyclists are the best people on the planet. Harley or Honda, scooter or full-dress cruiser, you meet the nicest people on motorcycles.