Beau:
Please don't take this as "preachy" or "morbid" or trying to rain on your parade, or on any or the other riders who have already posted. I only felt compelled to write this so that, maybe, a little will stick in the back of your mind when you actually start riding.
My father was a professional bike rider back in the 50's and 60's. He raced flat-track, did hill-climbs, and all kinds of other stuff. I still have all his old trophys down in my bar. He was the president of the Iron Horsemen of Goshen, Indiana for a number of years, and also belonged to a group called the "Steeds of Steel" in Mishawaka. One of their traditions was when they lost one of their own in an accident, they would all ride in the funeral. He rode in 11 of them.
He always had a bunch of cycles, usually around a dozen at a time. They were all geared and fixed up differently for whatever kind of riding he was doing. I've got some great pictures of him ice racing on Lake Michigan. When I was born, he had one left, a big old Harley. I've got a picture of me sitting on the gas tank when I was a few months old. He sold it shortly after, because he just decided he had too many responsibilities to be risking his life on a motorcycle anymore.
Anyway, all the time I was growing up, I saw all these trophies and great pictures and heard all these stories about my Dad's ridiing years. I wanted to ride, just like him. His rule was, if I ever brought a motorcycle home, I'd better be ready to find another place to live. He always said they were just too damned dangerous, and he didn't want any part of me riding one. I remember him always saying that what would be a fender-bender in a car would be serious wreck on a motorcycle.
Growing up, I thought my Dad was a real prick for not letting me have a motorcycle. But, he was so adamant about it, it was one of the few times I ever obeyed him strictly. Now, I'm 53, and I see what he was talking about. As I sit here and count right now, I can think of 5 pretty good friends of mine who were killed on those things, and another one who lost his leg.
By the way, Dad bought a raffle ticket in 2000, and won a brand new Harley softtail. Now, you have to have a special license in Indiana to ride a motorcycle on the road. Everybody advised him to take a smaller bike to take the test. He was stubborn, and went and passed the test first time around on that big thing and got his motorcycle stamp. Then he took it for a ride, came home, and promptly put a For Sale sign on it. Said he thought things were crazy on the road when he was riding, but nothing like today.
Again, buddy, I am not trying to rain on your parade nor on anyone else's here. I just want to stress to you in the strongest of terms: BE DAMNED CAREFUL. From what I've seen, it's normally not the rider's fault. It's that, as has been said here repeatedly, people just don't watch out for motorcycles. The friend of mine who lost his leg was only going abour 30 mph, and some old lady turned left in front of him with no warning. He dumped it to avoid hitting her square, but it ripped his leg off when he slid under her car. The latest friend I lost was a drummer in a band I used to follow. Young guy in his late 20's. Was going about 20 mph in Munster, In. Some guy in a parked car opened the door into him, knocked him off his bike, and it killed him, helmet and all. So, once again, FOR GOD'S SAKE BE CAREFUL.
