Our Janus Experience, The 3rd and Final Chapter
Back already? Cool, let's get back into it, then. This weekend, as the title of this post implies, our Janus Experience officially came to an end.
I Missed A Chapter
As a certified motorcycle instructor, I've taught a lot of people how to operate a large, heavy motorcycle with safety, precision and confidence. As a matter of fact, a friend and I just wrapped up another class a couple of weeks ago. Some of the easiest students to teach, are the ones that have no experience with motorcycles at all, because they don't have to break any bad habits or relearn any preconceived notions they may have had about motorcycles and riding. Mrs. MotoWriter was, by all accounts, the perfect candidate to learn.
Based on the feedback I've gotten from my students throughout the years, I consider myself to be a pretty good teacher. I'm passionate about motorcycle riding and I want my students to learn how to ride out, and then get back home, safely.
Teaching your spouse hits differently, though.
There's a realization in every class, that at least one of your students, despite your best teaching efforts, might not make it back home one day. Whether it's because they failed to adhere to your instruction (or outright ignored it), or because someone else driving two tons of metal, plastic and bad decisions did something careless or they were driving distracted. Either way, it's a sobering realization, especially since you, as the teacher, inevitably form bonds, and sometimes friendships, with your students. When that person, sitting nervously on the saddle, is your best friend and partner in life... the pressure is really on.
I won't get into the specific details on here, but I will tell you that Mrs. MotoWriter was doing good in learning how to ride, but a Janus Halcyon 250 is not a good bike to learn on. First of all, the riding position is very wonky and unnatural for a beginner, especially a beginner with a short stature, such as my lovely bride. The hardtail frame and sprung solo seat provide way too much feedback to a new rider just learning what to do, and the Earles-style springer front fork gives the bike a peculiar anti-dive quality that takes a bit to get used to, even for an experienced rider. To be clear, I'm not bashing the Janus, far from it, but they are not "beginner bikes" and in all fairness to the good folks at Janus, they never claimed them to be. If anything, Janus focuses most of their marketing on appealing to experienced riders, rather than newbies, because they know that their custom, hand-built motorcycles are unique, and fairly expensive for a small bore machine. My wife has only been a passenger on the bike with me, but when she saw that the Janus was such a beautiful machine, which really appealed to her inner aesthete, and that it was only powered by a 229cc single cylinder engine, it seemed very approachable to her.
After a few successful rides through the yard, and a couple of spills (as can be expected), Mrs. MotoWriter was done. Over the next year or so, there were a lot of factors at play that kept her off the bike, and in all honesty, it probably didn't help that her instructor crashed his Dyna.
Riding and Retirement
2025 was a significant year for us. Retirement was close, and I was busy getting my affairs in order so that I could actually make it happen. Financially, we were in good enough shape for me to leave my payin' gig and start this new retirement life, but the one thing that kept nagging at me was my Janus payment. After we sold #909, the only vehicle that I was still making payments on was the same bike that I rarely ever rode, which was my Janus (Halcyon #908). Since it was delivered to our house in October 2022, I had put less than 1,400 miles on it.
In the past 10 months that I've been retired, I have put well over 7,000 miles on my Road King and over 700 miles on my Dyna, and I've still got a couple of more trips planned before the end of 2026. Riding motorcycles is so much more than just a hobby for me. I would call it an obsession, but there's a certain, maybe specific, negativity that goes hand in hand with that word. I think it's best described as an insatiable passion... which still sort of sounds bad, but I suppose it is what it is; I look at motorcycles, I ride motorcycles, I read about motorcycles, I write about motorcycles... you get the point. While I love riding the Janus, there are limitations for me when I ride it. For example, I live in the country... and most of these folks only know two speeds- Running Deer or John Deere! One is fast and sometimes erratic, and the other is slow and steady. There's not much in-between, so when I ride a 14 hp motorcycle that comfortably tops out around 55 mph before it starts feeling sketchy on these backroads, it gets a bit nerve-racking trying to watch the mirrors to make sure ole Bubba Hayseed isn't about to run straight over me in his old Chevy farm truck.
Not to mention, every time I stop... every... single... time... the Janus gets attention. People see it and have to come up and look at it. Most just look, but there's always one that comes walking up with a hundred questions. Don't get me wrong, I like talking to folks, especially about motorcycles... but sometimes I just want to gas up and get back to my ride. The Janus only has a 1.9 gallon fuel tank, so fueling up takes less time than answering the question, "what is that beautiful bike and what year is it?" That means, I spend more time talking to folks at the gas station than I do actually gassing up. My Dyna and Road King look cool, and they both start a gas station conversation every once in a while, but the Janus starts conversations every time I stop... even at traffic lights.
Motorcycles, Money and Making Good Choices
For 2026, Honda punched out the CRF250F to 300cc and gave it back a 6th gear... and by all accounts... I want one. Here's the catch, though- I have restricted myself to a maximum of one vehicle payment at a time now that I'm on this new "fixed income", so that meant I had a decision to make. Since my Janus was the only vehicle that still wasn't paid for and it sits more than it's ridden (I've put less than 350 miles a year on it since I've had it), I knew what I had to do. I'm better at buying motorcycles than I am at selling them. It's not that I don't possess good negotiating skills, it's that I don't like parting ways with my motorcycles. Halcyon #909 wasn't technically mine, so it wasn't that difficult for me to see it go. #908, however, has been tough to let go. I listed it locally first, and had several good trade offers and a few decent cash offers. My goal was never to make any extra money off of it, and trades (as tempting as they were) didn't accomplish the goal of paying off the loan. After a few months of entertaining various offers locally, I decided to list it nationally. After several weeks of getting the same kinds of offers, I started losing my patience with folks. After all, I was only asking for what I owed, and the bike was practically brand new. Then, as I was contemplating just keeping it (again), I was contacted by a gentleman, who I won't name for his privacy, from the other side of the country. We spoke briefly on the phone, then went to a video call (sometimes, technology is pretty cool) so that we could talk while I showed him the bike in real time. He told me that he knew that I was asking a fair price for the bike, and when I told him what I was doing and why, we struck the deal before we hung up the phone. A few days later, he paid for it and made all of the arrangements to have it shipped to his house.
Kindred Spirits
The Final Chapter
When I met the carrier to drop off #908, it was a cloudy, dreary day. The weather reflected my mood, perfectly. Just as the driver was about to record the video walk-a-round before loading it, the skies opened up, and the rain soaked us in an instant- it was the first time that little bike had ever been in the rain. Watching #908 get soaked, then loaded up into a tractor trailer with a dozen other bikes was bittersweet. I knew that my little "smile machine" was going to a good home, to a gentleman that was going to enjoy it and give it the road time and mileage that it deserved, but realizing that it would soon be gone was tough. After all, it was the last of our Janus motorcycles- bikes that my wife and I had such lofty ideas for, motorcycles that my wife and I had special ordered, customized with our personalities and put a little bit of who we are into, and the realization that this was likely the last time I would ever see it again, was kind of sad to think about. As the rain kept coming down, I got into my little pickup truck, and headed back home. 
It was a stark contrast from the jubilation of beginning our Janus Journey, almost four years ago to the day. Our new, sequentially numbered, Janus motorcycles were delivered together, in the company delivery van right to our home, on a bright and sunny morning. They went to their new homes, separately, over a year apart. Our Janus Journey came to a final, drab and woeful end, on a rainy, dreary afternoon, in the parking lot of a truck stop. I know that to most people, motorcycles are just machines, but to those of us who are true enthusiasts... they are much more. 
