Confronting the reality of ending my motorcycling career

I fear that the Covid-19 pandemic has ended my motorcycling career that began in the 1970s.

My BMW K1200GT (on the left) sits idle in my shed connected to a battery trickle charger. It hasn't run in nearly a year and I fear the fuel stabilizer isn't sufficient to prevent starting problems. I just haven't had the heart to find out.

My BMW K75S has been sitting in the neighborhood Gold Wing repair shop since just after Labor Day, 2018, waiting for rear brake service. I haven't talked with the proprietor in more than a year and I learned the other day that his building is in foreclosure, so I probably ought to rescue the bike before it gets seized by the lender.

I rode a pathetic 10 miles last year - just down Ind. 75 to Western Boone Junior-Senior High School and back. Not long after, I began to notice I was having balance problems, which eroded my confidence and got me thinking about the slippery slope that goes with breaking a hip. That's what put my dad into a nursing home at the end of his life.

Plus, the pandemic took away the initiative to ride anywhere now that most destinations are problematic (first time I ever used that word in print). 

I joined some Indianapolis BMW Club friends for lunch last summer and another long-distance rider shared that his confidence isn't what it used to be and we agreed that it may be time to retire from riding.

I had a good run - about 400,000 miles on five BMWs and a couple of Kawasakis and rode all over the U.S. with multiple trips to California, the Pacific Northwest, Canada, and Florida to mention a few. I took lots of photos and kept logs of my trips, so I have plenty of memories to revisit in my advancing years.

So when spring arrives, I plan to sell the big blue bike and maybe keep the K75S for puttering around.