I received my lates IBA Certs in the mail the other day. Every mile made a memorable moment. A SoloMoment

Every day you should aspire to inspire others to be different, be happy, and loved. I Aspire To Inspire.

 

One’s love and passion for something makes them no better than others. It’s how it makes them feel that’s different. I ride a motorcycle.

Folks, l share my journeys on social media to inspire others to get out from beneath the every weekend this party that party routine. Only riding from home, across the country to an annual and back, and never once seeing anything in between. That is not a biker. That is just a mode of transportation. I see people claiming they’ve got 4, 8, or 12 cross country rides and not once have they ventured off of l-5, I-10 or I-20. You ask them for a good biker-friendly bar to stop in and grab some good cheap eats, a cold one, or just where to see some old history, and they couldn’t tell you to save their lives. I am in an MC, l ride for my MC, but l also ride for me. Don’t get the two confused, one’s business and the other is personal. What l share on social media is personal, not my MC business. I’ve picked up a lot in my years of doing this. I’ve had some great mentors that have taught me how to survive on the road by myself, and how to move around and function with 1%ers on both sides of the track. I’ve grown immensely from doing what l do. I’ve faced adversities that you will never hear about and l have been shown the door. This MC shit that l see today and how it used to be when l first came on the scene has changed and it wasn’t all for the good. If you as a member of an MC are still doing the same shit you were doing when you first joined, then you, my friend, have not grown a damn bit in this lifestyle. This lifestyle is about progression, growth, and carrying on a tradition that men have sacrificed and even given their lives for. All for a culture that was once idolized, feared, and deemed sexy. Even the biker attire influenced the rock and roll era, look it up. Riding a motorcycle is my passion, my therapy, my medication. It soothes my soul and enlightens my spirit. It gives me an adrenaline rush equal to walking out the back of a Chinook in the middle of a pitch-black night. Folks, all I’m saying is this, ride your ride. Don’t make riding your scoot into a competition where you ride pass some of your most memorable moments in life. Shit that when you’re old and decrepit, porch ridden, blind in one eye and can’t see out the other, your grandkids ask your significant other ‘why does grandpa sit there with that smile on his face and laugh out loud saying kickstand up!’ She’ll say, he’s going riding, he’ll be back to normal in a while. Why wear it, if you’re not going to live it. A SoloMoment

About a year ago l started conversations with the man you see in the pictures. We had never met, never talked on the phone, never even been in the same state together. The only thing we had in common was we both love riding motorcycles and seeing the world on two wheels. One day he posted about taking a trip to Belize (yes, Belize) on twos and it sparked my curiosity. I sent him a message saying, “Gary, Karl here. Would like to hear more about your plans for your ride south.” His reply, “ok, I’m leaving around the 20th of June, getting back around July 8th, leaving from my house in Lyons, Colorado.” Now you’re asking yourself, WTF are you thinking? You don’t know this guy from Adam. It didn’t matter. We both rode and shit, at least I’d die doing what l love.

The conversation went like this:

ME: “This is your first time making this run? What kinda scoot do you ride? Average riding day? Speak Spanish? LOL. l don’t.

HIM: “I speak a little Spanish, but I will be taking a class this Spring where I work at the university in Boulder. I ride a 1978 BMW R80/7. I know the bike inside and out and have tools, parts, and skills. I’ve ridden before in the Yucatan of Mexico. I’m familiar with the customs, roads, and people. I do about 500 miles a day…basically, I ride from sun up to sun down, this will be my first time riding to Belize.”

ME: “I have to ask and in no way is this racist, any issues riding with a Black guy? Because l don’t give two f’s, I’m in it for the journey and this is one I’ve been wanting to do. Also, have you done a cost analysis for this run?” HIM: “I was married for 7 years to a woman from France who was North African. I have Black friends. I’m not racist. There are cool people and assholes of all colors. I’m more concerned about your skills, attitude, and temper, than your color. I have not done a cost analysis, but I’m going to guess $75 – $150/day.”

The conversation goes on but I’m going to save it for the book. I’m sharing all of this to say, when you’re on two’s, it’s not the color of your skin, or what you ride that matters. It’s none of that. The only thing that matters is being adventurous enough to get out and do it. Unfortunately, my timeline didn’t allow me to make this trip with him and it haunts me to this day. Remember folks, it’s never about the destination, but about the journey. Ksolo DaRyder with Gary McCrumb