Steel and chrome...

I first rode on a motorcycle with my father.

I must have been 5 or 6 years old. When he put that helmet on my head I felt like I had been knighted by a king. I don't know why, but little kids LOVE helmets of any kind. He picked me up from under the arms and placed me on the back of his bike.

It was a summer's day in St. Louis. Hot, and the sun was setting. I can still remember it. Somewhere I have a photo of this exact moment. Me, on the the back of my father's bike while he looks towards the camera with a "Don't worry honey!" expression on his face.

The ride itself is blurry in my memory. Lots of speed and clutching on to my old man for dear life. But I guess a seed was planted. Sheesh, it took root and grew like a weed.

I bought my first bike when I was 20. I was in college, and had a real yearning to finally get my own motorbike. I found a very used Honda CB 450 in the classifieds. When I went to see it, the thing was pretty much in pieces. Literally. I paid the guy $250 for it and took the whole lot down to the local motorcycle shop. It took them a week to put it back together. I will always remember when I went to pick it up. They wheeled it out to me and although it was nothing special by any means, to me it looked like the most shining of steeds.

I rode that thing for a couple of years, sold it after graduating and never got back on another bike until 2003.

Now, the 2003 bike was a beauty. A '94 Suzuki Intruder. 800cc's and gorgeous. I have far too many memories to write about this bike in such a sort space. But, to suffice, it was a great way to get back into riding. There was, however, a growing desire in the end to graduate on to other motorbikes.

Well, that finally happened a couple of weeks ago. I now own a 2002 Yamaha Roadstar Warrior, which is quite a mouthful for a bike, but this is quite a bike indeed. 1680cc's of monstrosity. That is more than double my previous engine. In fact, it's more engine than some cars have. Seriously, what a beast. See photo goodness below.

My long suffering wife wasn't overjoyed with this latest purchase, but in the end my zeal and loony fascination with these two-wheeled machines was pretty powerful. I'm sure she was just tired of hearing me talk about "a new motorcycle". So, it was done. This tiger of a vehicle now sits in my garage. It is a work of art in my opinion.

I won't go into boring technical details, but the 200 rear-tire is a sight to behold, and the low end torque on this monster demands one's attention. Not to mention the after-market exhaust which seemingly demands anyone's attention as I ride by. Yes, it's one of those "loud" bikes.

I'm a sucker for that stuff.

To be honest, it's a big bike for anyone to handle. I nurse the thing around town for now as it will take a good while before I get to know it. "Get to know it" is a strange phrase to use for a machine, but anyone who owns a motorcycle will tell you that it is so.

Each one is like a living thing with its own unique personality. Just like people. It takes time to figure out the unique quirks that every bike will have. Its strong points and its weak points. They are all there. So unlike cars, which to me are all basically the same.

I still think back to that summer's evening in St. Louis when a little boy sat on the back of his father's motorcycle. Scared but excited. So thrilled by the speed and fascinated by this machine that was so more intriguing than a car. That feeling stays with me today.

My father's bike was a Yamaha. I can still see the gold letters on the side of the tank. Ironically, it is the same make of bike that now rests in my garage. The shapes are different, the engine is different, many things are different between the two.

But the feeling is the same.