Our Janus Experience, Chapter 3

Our Janus Experience, The 3rd and Final Chapter

For anyone that has been visiting my little corner of the interwebs for a few years, you'll know that in August of 2022, Mrs. MotoWriter and I embarked on a new kind of motorcycling "journey", if you will. While doing some research about new motorcycles, I came across the Janus Motorcycles website and my wife immediately became interested. I won't re-tell the full story, but if you want to read more, I'll link it here, here, and here. Go ahead and click those links and get caught up if you need to, I'll be right here.

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

In preparing to write this, I realized that, with all the hecticness of last year, while I was wrapping up my payin' gig and getting ready for retirement, that I missed an important update to this story- the fate of Mrs. MotoWriter's bike (#909), back in May of last year.

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.

Regardless of the reason why, she had lost interest in riding her own, and after my not-so-little crash that left me with a lot of internal bruising and a wicked slice across my back, I was completely fine with her decision to not ride her own motorcycle. The only problem was, we had an extra bike in the garage that we were still paying on, and no one was riding. Mrs. MotoWriter ultimately made the decision to let her bike go, and in May 2025, after two and a half years and only 3/4 of a mile on the odometer... we sold Halcyon 250 #909, and her Janus journey was officially over.

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.

It's not that I didn't enjoy riding it, on the contrary. The Janus Halcyon is one of the most fun bikes to ride, because it feels like the first time, every time. Maybe it's the hardtail frame, the small, single cylinder engine, or the weight and size, or maybe it's all of these things, but the Janus always made me smile when I would ride 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

In February of this year, as any good motorcycle enthusiast would do, I bought myself an old dirtbike as a retirement gift. Between tinkering with it in the garage, and riding it for hours at a time in the woods, I quickly rediscovered how much fun dirt bikes were. When I decided to get a dirty bike, I didn't set out to get a 37 year old, 600cc, Baja 500 bred monster. A 250cc 4-stroke was what I wanted, but the older XRs are hard to find, especially since Honda replaced them with the CRF in 2003.

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

Throughout your life, you occasionally meet kindred spirits, and this was the case with both of the guys that bought our Janus Halcyons. When you buy a Janus, you don't just buy a motorcycle, you join a community. The Janus community is a small, tight-knit community that is made up of a variety of different personalities, backgrounds, income levels, ethnicities and ages. Motorcycle culture is exclusively inclusive, which is something that is unique to this community as a whole, but the Janus community takes that even further. They pride themselves on being different, of being unique among their, already unique, peers. Janus motorcycles are also very personal, right from the factory. Where a mass produced motorcycle from a major brand has to be customized to each individual owner after it goes home with them, a Janus is customized for that individual owner, starting on the build sheet, before the first bolt is ever turned. Before it ever leaves the factory, a Janus motorcycle was built for a specific person. I think that's why it was so difficult to find the right buyers for our bikes... we weren't just selling our motorcycles, we were finding the right homes for them. I know that we accomplished that for both #909 and #908.

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. 

I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Janus Motorcycles, and I wish them all the best in their continued efforts of carving out their place in motorcycle history. Maybe, one day, I'll rejoin the community of Janus Motorcycle owners once again... but for now, I'm going to be doubling down on spending more seat time on my beloved Road King Special. Before I jump into buying a new dirty bike, I think I'm going to enjoy some time without a vehicle payment and just spend my off-road time ripping through the woods on my old XR. 

Until next time, MotoReaders...

Ride safe and make good choices

 

Dyna update

The MotoWriter Dyna 

As many of you know, last year, I crashed my Dyna Street Bob (affectionately known as the MotoWriter Dyna). 

For those new to the blog (or missed the original post)- basically, I was riding on a road that I knew had a dangerous intersection, where gravel from an intersecting road washes into a curve of the main road. While I wasn’t speeding, I should have slowed down more than I did, because I wound up encountering the gravel that was perfectly in line with my front tire. In what turned out to be a failed attempt to avoid it, I lost control, high-sided and won a busted bike, a gnarly cut across my back and some bruised internal organs as reward for my carelessness.

Once the insurance company and I settled up (I chose to keep the scoot and rebuild it), I set out to tearing it down and repairing it, piece by piece. Now, I’m not rich by any means, but I’m not poor, either. I chose to do the work myself because I enjoy it. Besides, if God gave me the confidence to try, and the ability to succeed, why on earth would I pay someone else to do it?

Tear down

The tear down involved taking the bike down, basically, to a unicycle. The forks, triple-trees, tank, seat, and a bunch of small, miscellaneous parts came off. From there, I inspected each piece, determined what was damaged and what wasn’t, and then made a list of what I needed. Fortunately, the frame was solid, straight and undamaged (which was my biggest fear), and the tank wasn’t dented, just scratched up on the low side. 

In removing the triple trees, I found that the neck bearings were worn out and unusable, but I’m not sure if that was a result of the crash or simply a previously unseen result of, prior to my ownership, neglect. Either way, those were replaced. I found a set of “new” take-off handlebars that I picked up at a pretty good price, and I found a nice set of “new” take-off fork sliders (these things couldn’t have had more than 100 miles on them when they were swapped out). I picked up a nice, used clutch perch, a new set of levers, a new pair of fork tubes and a couple of fork rebuild kits from my local Harley-Davidson shop. The front wheel and wheel bearings were good, as were the front and rear fenders. The exhaust survived, but the heat shield was tweaked and a clamp bracket was broken, so I repaired that and massaged the heat shield back into shape. 

After rebuilding the forks and installing the new neck bearings, I put the front end back together and then I rewarded myself with a nice cold Miller High Life… because let’s face it… making a motorcycle out of a unicycle is worthy of the reward of the “champagne of beers.”

Once the front end was back together, I set out to cleaning up the tank scratches. I had some paint left over from the quarter fairing that I installed before the crash (R.I.P. to the fairing, as it did not survive the crash, nor did it make the final cut of replacement parts). I tried painting a patch area, but that effort failed, so I put that on the back burner and decided to make sure the damn thing would run and ride again, instead. I’m glad I did, because I was seriously considering selling or trading the Dyna until I fired her up for the first time since the crash. The 96” Twin Cam came to life easily and it ran and rode great- so great, in fact, that I have ridden it several times over the last month… funky paint and all. Riding it reminded me how much I actually like this motorcycle.

After riding it a few times, I decided to dedicate a day (today) to repainting the tank. Over the past few months, I’ve been trying to decide if I should change the color, or maybe do a cool design, or maybe even swap the tank badges for decals. Ultimately, it was Mrs. MotoWriter that reminded me what one of the guys at the Harley-Davidson Museum said to me, when we were talking about the MotoWriter Dyna. He told me that, since Dynas are no longer made, and since so many of them have been hacked up and made into stunt bikes and racing machines, that a (mostly) stock Dyna Street Bob in Brilliant Silver paint, was likely to become a pretty valuable machine one day. Now, he may have just been telling me that to make me feel better about my relatively boring silver bike, but it did make me start looking for others like it. To my surprise, I didn’t find many silver Street Bobs out there. Like the guy said, most Dynas I’ve come across have been turned into wheelie and stunt machines (which is a trend that I can’t stand… maybe I’m just getting old, but public streets where my family drives just isn’t the place for f*@%ing around on a 600+ pound projectile that is precariously balanced on one wheel by a SQUID that doesn’t believe, or doesn’t care, that he could lose control and kill himself or someone else- rant over).

As of today

So that brings me to today. I took the tank off, prepped it for paint and have begun laying the metallic goodness down (I’m between color coats as I type this). After I finish the color coats, I’ll go over it with several coats of clear until I’m satisfied with the results, then I’ll let it set for a few days before I finish it up and get the badges back on, and get it mounted back on the bike.

Stay tuned for more photos once it’s back together and ready to hit the open road again. Until then, ride safe and avoid making the same mistakes I did!

MotoReview- Viking Bag’s Dagr Sissy Bar Bag

MotoReview- Viking Bags’ Dagr Sissy Bar Bag

Well, MotoReaders, as promised, I humbly submit to you, my review of the Viking Bags 22L Dagr sissy bar bag! 

Okay, first off- in the interest of FULL disclosure- I did not buy this bag, I do not work for Viking Bags, I am not related to anyone (that I know of) that works for Viking Bags and I do not own any stock in Viking Bags, nor will I benefit from a positive review of, or suffer from a negative review of, this bag (or any other items I review on my site). That said, let’s get to it, shall we?

Initial impression

 When I arrived home from work today, I was excited to see a decent sized brown box, waiting for me at my driveway. I anxiously picked it up and noticed that it had a little heft to it… again, a wave of pleasant surprise and satisfaction washed over me. Once inside, I opened the box to find a nice sized bag wrapped in a clear plastic bag that was tied. Had it been raining, I’m confident that the cardboard box’s contents would have been safe and dry inside. After plucking the bag out of the box and unwrapping it like an impatient child at Christmas, I removed the hefty, well made and very sturdy bag from it’s plastic cocoon. 

I, gratuitously, decided that the best place to take some photos of the bag was on my work bench, where I’ve been working on resurrecting the MotoWriter Dyna, which, if you haven’t heard (or, read about here on the site, yet… click the link here —>>) I crashed a few months back. Yes, I must also admit that the MotoWriter wall sign, that my good friend Nick over at The Wood Shop made for me, makes for a nice background detail… again, I know it’s gratuitous, but hey, I’m grown and I do what I want! 

Digging in

Hearing a distinct rattle when handling the bag, I feverishly began unzipping the compartments to see what goodies the bag contained. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the two side pockets are big. Not, “hold a pair of jeans” big, but definitely “keep your phone, GPS, keys, wallet, Snicker bars, and maybe even some miscellaneous H-D poker chips or challenge coins” big. The best part is, that there are two of them and they are equally large, not like some of those bags that have the random sized compartments that make no real sense. The main compartment held the culprits of the rattling sound- a rain cover, a shoulder strap and two (2) smaller straps for tying the bag to your bike in, probably, any way that you might want. 

In this photo, I’ve got them propped open with a marker (on one side) and a roll of painter’s tape (on the other side). The main compartment is big and has plenty of room for a couple of pairs of socks, underwear and maybe a t-shirt or two if you pack them tight enough (disclaimer- I wear a size large t-shirt, so I can make it work… if you’re bigger than that, it might get tricky for you). Viking also claims that the bag will hold “31 cans”… but I’ve yet to try that, as I’m more of a bourbon man. The “flap” (if you can even call it that) opens up and it has two detachable straps on either side to keep it from flopping open and dumping it’s contents. They are adjustable, so if you only want it to open a little bit, you can. If you want it to open all the way, adjust them out or simply unclip them. I, very loosely, refer to the flap as a “flap” because it doesn’t “flap” at all. There isn’t anything on this bag that is “flappy”, actually. The “flap” is very well made and semi-rigid to keep the contents of the bag safe, while helping to maintain the bag’s shape. On the inside, it has a mesh, zipper close, compartment that could be used for any small items you don’t want falling out of, or getting mixed up in, the main compartment. Did I mention the security? No? Well, I will. The main compartment can be closed and secured with a small padlock- think, “TSA approved.” It won’t keep anyone from stealing your bag, but it will prevent anyone from rooting through your bag and gawking at your weird under britches that have the hearts printed on them. 

Inside the main compartment is another zipper that runs along the entire inner wall. Snooping around and unzipping it, reveals the inner plastic “wall” that gives rigidity to the outside of the bag and maintains the overall shape. The plastic is thick, maybe 3/16” or just a tiny bit thinner and its made of a nice flexible ABS plastic that really looks like it can take a beating without shattering or cracking. The top of the bag has a sewn-in, and riveted, nylon strap handle that has a plastic “comfort strap” (that’s what I’m calling it… maybe the folks at Viking Bags can use that). The handle is well made and will, no doubt, be able to easily hold up to all of the weight that can be crammed into this bag- be it 31 cans of your favorite beverage, or all of those “heart” boxers that your aunt Susie gave you for your birthday.

The intelligent design didn’t stop at the back of the bag either. The strap to attach it to the sissy bar is wide and thick and will easily fit over most sissy bars (or back rests for you folks that are offended by the word “sissy”). It comes with something that, if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen before- two vertical, and removable, metal rods. The rods are used to adjust for the width of your bike’s sissy bar- a very cool feature and one that was very well planned and, from what I can tell so far, very well executed. There are D rings on the rear of the bag that can be used with the straps provided, to secure the bag to your bike, or, convert the bag into a backpack! Very cool! 

Overall Thoughts

My overall first impression of the Dagr bag is that it is very well made. It has what I like to call “smart engineering and design” all throughout. It’s obvious that whoever designed this bag, did so intentionally. The name, Dagr, is an old Norse word meaning, basically, “day” and that’s exactly what this bag is perfect for (although, I can see myself using it on overnight trips, too). 

Quality is top notch- the stitching is sturdy and the materials are very nice- a mix of nylon rip-stop and a rugged, rubber composite that blends very well into the design, making this bag not only functional, but attractive. The size is perfect for holding a variety of necessities on a road trip- sunglasses (and reading glasses for those of us who are getting a little older these days), sunscreen, gloves, snacks, and whatever else you want, or need, to bring along to make your trip a little better. 

While the MotoWriter Road King has big, cavernous saddlebags and a detachable trunk for my longer trips, I plan on using this bag on the MotoWriter Street Bob, once it’s put back together and ready for road trippin’ again, that is.

Durability, longevity and affordability 

I can’t, personally, speak on affordability, as I didn’t actually buy this bag, but I can tell you that, for the msrp of $69.99, and a current promotion (as of today) of $59.41, I think it’s a steal. This is a bag that you will keep from bike to bike until your significant other or one of your kids (or grandkids) decide to “appropriate” it for their own use. It looks good and is well made. 

As for the durability or the longevity of the bag, I obviously won’t be able to speak on this yet, either, as I just got this thing today. I will honestly be surprised if it doesn’t outlast some of my other gear (and maybe even one of my bikes), but I’ll do a proper follow-up review in 6 months, and another one at a year, to give you some updates on it, in case you’re still not convinced. 

Final thoughts

I’ll leave you with this to ponder- how much do you spend at the coffee shop every month? How much do you spend on fast food? How much do you give to your co-workers’ kids that are always selling cookies or doing some other kind of fund raisers? If you’re an average person, I’d be willing to bet that you could buy two of these bags a month, every month, for what you spend in coffee and fast food alone. So, why not take a chance and get a bag that will, absolutely, last longer than all those McBurgers and Starspressos. Go check out Viking Bags (by clicking the link at the top right of this page) or by clicking here and check out what they have to offer. 

Instead of spending a hundred bucks a month for some overpriced drinks or some, potentially cold, fries that will only give you joy, happiness or satisfaction for a few moments, take a break from the drive-thru line for a few weeks and buy yourself a bag that, I suspect, will give you years of service. Hell, what’s the worst that could happen? If you only use it for one year’s worth of road trips, it will still have given you more use than those deep fried fart sticks and that chalky ass, coffee flavored, sugar water. Make your coffee at home and brown bag your lunch for a month and get something that will actually bring you some joy- the Viking Bags Dagr sissy bar bag. (<<— shameless plug, but click the link and check it out for yourself!)

Now, I better get back to working on the MotoWriter Street Bob, so I can put this bag to good use before the next review!

Until next time, MotoReaders… ride safe and make good choices!

I Crashed

 

I don't think this will buff out.

I crashed the MotoWriter Street Bob

Well, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- if you ride motorcycles, it’s not a matter of if, but when, you will have a mishap. I’ve had my share over the years, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had anything serious happen… until a few nights ago. I was riding a road that I’ve ridden, probably a few dozen times, and I failed to heed the warnings. You see, there is one particular curve that, while it’s not crazy, it is dangerous enough that the county road department installed a sign warning “dangerous curve ahead” on the approach. If you’ve watched any of my earlier videos, you likely saw the one where I went into this exact curve in the least sexy way possible. It always has gravel in the apex… always. On this fateful night, there was no exception. 

An evening ride on a known road

I would venture to guess that, statistically, casually known roads are more dangerous to us than those that are brand new, or well known, to us. We tend to take it easier on roads that we're unfamiliar with, and get more relaxed on roads that we know (or think we know) well. It's the in-between roads though, that seem to be the ones that really get us in trouble. Those backroads that we know well enough to be comfortable on, but we don't ride on enough to be able to anticipate every curve. 

While taking an evening ride on one of those roads- one that I’ve ridden multiple times in the past, but is not one of my "regular" rides- I approached the aforementioned "dangerous curve." I was looking for the tell-tale signs of the ever-present gravel swath, but there was none… until suddenly, there was. I was over halfway through the curve, with a fair, but not too aggressive lean on the Dyna, when all of a sudden, a relatively thin (maybe 18” wide) swath of gravel appeared directly in front of me. It was laid out in the road, perfectly matching the exact line that I was in. I knew that going into the gravel would surely put me into the asphalt and high side me into the oncoming lane (I’ve seen enough crashes like this to know how that would play out- and the outcome of those were all bad), so I tried my best to apply enough brakes to get off the line I was on, which was heading toward my certain demise. 

I was able to successfully apply enough brake to stand the Dyna up and miss the majority of the gravel, but unfortunately for me, in doing so, it put me going across the center line and into the oncoming lane. By the grace of God, there was no one coming, so with everything I had, I tried to keep the Dyna off the shoulder, but the stock, single disc front brake on the 2011 FXDB simply wasn’t slowing me down enough and I inadvertently pushed a little too much on my rear pedal. Big mistake. The rear tire started to lock and before I could release and reapply the rear brake, I ran out of room on the road surface and the back of the bike started to slide sideways. The scoot first went down on the high side (that's the right side for those that don't know), sliding into the grass shoulder. Once in the grass, it slid a few feet before catching and high-siding, ejecting me off a few feet from my downed machine. I had enough wits about me to tuck my head in anticipation of the impact, and I landed hard on my back with my helmet barely tapping the hard, dry, grass covered, red clay ground. 

Body and bike

I stayed down for a second doing a mental assessment: wiggle my toes- check; move my fingers- check- breathing clear, in and out- check. I slowly stood up, checking myself for injuries and was feeling pretty good about my condition, until I got upright and could feel a warm wetness flushing down my back. I reached back and felt it- yep, it was wet. When I pulled my hand back, I could see it was covered in blood. Evidently, when I landed, I slid across something sharp that was embedded in the dirt and grass, because, as I would learn later, my back had a gash that was about 6-8 inches long running across at an angle with all of the other superficial scratches from the rocks in the dirt. 

The MotoWriter Dyna didn’t get out quite so lucky; the bars were bent, the fairing and clutch perch destroyed and there was fresh oil on the low side fork tube. Aside from that, the tank had some scratches on the low side and the H-D logo was ripped off. After manipulating the clutch lever back in place, I was able to start it, though. It fired up and ran fine. A Good Samaritan saw the aftermath of my self-induced mess and offered to help. Being a stubborn-ass man, I initially refused, but after he insisted that I wasn’t putting him out, I reluctantly agreed and he left to go get his truck.

I love the South

As I was waiting for him to come back, I was able to get the bike picked up and moved a little further down the ditch (I was trying to get it back on the road, but couldn’t). I called my wife, then the local sheriff’s department, to report the crash. A few other folks came by and checked on me, but I told them that I had some help coming, so they went on their way. A few minutes later, my new friend, who for the sake of his anonymity, I will call Mr. L, came back with a truck and trailer. 

South Mississippians are the best people I’ve ever met. This guy, who only knew me from the second that he saw my dumb self standing in the ditch with my busted motorcycle, generously offered to help me. Not only that, but once he got there with his truck and trailer, he offered to let me take the whole rig, so I could get the bike back home. Being that my back was as bloody as a horror film crime scene though, I respectfully declined and told him that I would ride with my wife in our car so I didn’t stain his seats with my ripped up back. Initially, Mr. L. offered to bring my bike back to his place until I could come get it because one of the tires on his trailer was in bad shape, but once my wife and the deputy got there, he could see that the pain was starting to set in, and offered to risk the tire and bring it all the way to my house, so I could rest and heal without having to worry about going out again to get the bike. To recap- this man was on his way home from work when he saw some random stranger, crashed into a ditch on his motorcycle. He offered… no, he insisted, to help the stranger, then he offered to let this complete stranger take his truck and trailer without knowing if it would ever be returned. Can you imagine what our world would be like, if everyone was as kind, generous and trusting as Mr. L.? 

No good deed

They say that no good deed goes unpunished, and about a mile away from my house, that rang true for Mr. L. The damn tire on his trailer blew out and completely came off the rim. Mr. L. was undeterred, though. I got out of my wife’s car to see what we needed to do, and he just waved me on and said he was going to run it on the rim until we got there; and run it on the rim, he did. We pulled the whole sad looking contraption, consisting of a busted up Harley-Davidson strapped to a trailer with one tire, into the driveway and Mr. L. helped me unload the MotoWriter Dyna off the trailer. I offered to replace the wheels on his trailer, but he adamantly refused, telling me that he had two new tires for the trailer at home, but he just had not put them on yet. I’m not sure if he was fibbing or not, but I told him that he could leave the trailer at my house and drop the tires off later, and I would get it all fixed back up for him. After all, it was, literally, the very least I could do. He reluctantly agreed, would only allow me to give him a sports drink for all his trouble, and then, after some polite conversation, he headed back home to his family and I went inside to let Mrs. MotoWriter get me fixed up.

Stubborn ass man

I mentioned before that I am stubborn. Well, as you can imagine, that means I opted not to go spend my evening at an emergency room. It turned out that, while it was pretty long, fairly deep, splayed open sort of wide and full of grass, dirt and debris, it was still just a cut across my back. While my wife was gathering up all of the necessary supplies, I checked my own vitals: breathing- still clear and full; blood pressure- understandably high; heart rate- a little elevated, but good; blood oxygen- 100%; and after going pee, I saw that I wasn’t passing any blood. For my limited medical knowledge gained from being a father of two rambunctious sons- I determined that the likelihood of my having any significant internal injuries was somewhat low. 

Mrs. MotoWriter did a great job, even if she did almost pass out twice. She got it cleaned up, closed up and bandaged, thanks to the advice and guidance from my youngest son, who just happens to be an EMT. I took some ibuprofen to help quell the pain, since it felt like Mike Tyson kidney punched me with all of his strength, and then I went to bed. I actually slept pretty decent, considering the circumstances. The next morning, however, my plans of getting up and going to work were dashed when I tried getting out of bed. I felt okay, but I was moving like Frankenstein’s monster. Everything hurt, so I messaged the boss and went back to bed. I had been trying to catch up on my writing, but alas, the bike wasn’t the only thing broken (I’m blaming everything on the Blue Super Moon)… my home internet also went out. We cancelled our satellite TV service when we got the fiber optic internet, so no internet meant no TV… which meant that I was given plenty of time to write, but I just couldn't upload it, so this story will be a few days old by the first time you get to read it.

Cuts heal and chicks dig scars

As I’ve learned so many times in the past, cuts heal and chicks dig scars; what is dented, can be fixed, what is broken, can be replaced. The most important takeaway here is the lesson learned. 

I was on a road that, from my own experience, has a dangerous curve and the most dangerous part of that curve for a motorcyclist is the ever present gravel that sits patiently on the blacktop, waiting for it’s next two-wheeled victim. I knew it was there… because it’s always there. Out of the dozens of times I’ve ridden this road, I can only remember once, maybe twice, where the surface was clear. That is on me. As a certified motorcycle operator and motorcycle instructor, I know that when the rear brake starts to lock, I’m supposed to release to rolling friction until I regain control. In this particular situation, mid curve with inadequate braking ability and very little real estate to operate in, I was unfortunately doomed to my fate, because I simply ran out of room. The best I could hope to accomplish, with what I had to work with, was to mitigate the damage as best as possible, which I did. This crash could have been much, much worse. But, this crash could have also been avoided altogether.

I’m not as young as I used to be, so I know that I’m going to be feeling this one for a while, even after the cut heals and Tyson’s bruising goes away. I’m just thankful that I was able to use the training that I have to minimize the overall damage… to the bike, but mostly to me. Mrs. MotoWriter would never forgive me if I went for a ride and didn’t come back. I’m also thankful for good, truly good, samaritans like Mr. L. I’m grateful for his help and generosity and I’m proud to say that I know him- he’s a good man. People like Mr. L. really help restore a person's faith in humanity.

My biggest regret in this whole situation is that I failed to use my own experience to avoid this whole damn situation. I knew the dangers and ignored them. The best I can hope for going forward is, that I learn from this hard lesson and, maybe you can learn something from my mistake, too. 

Until next time, MotoReaders, please ride safe.

It's not as bad as it could be, but it's going to be down for repairs for a little while.

The bars, forks and my newly installed (and recently painted to match) fairing are all shot.

I'm alive, I'm in one piece and I'm in good spirits.
Thanks to the awesome folks at Go Fast Don't Die for such a great shirt, and thanks to all of my loyal MotoReaders for reading my stories.

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