The Gift of two wheels
It was Christmas 1999. I still remember walking out to a gift that would shape my life, a Yamaha PW50. At the age of four, I had no idea that this small, yellow motorcycle would lead to countless adventures, new friendships, and cherished memories.
Like many of you, my dad’s love for two wheels naturally became mine. On that magical morning, Dad explained the basics. I remember feeling both fear and excitement as I climbed onto my new bike for the first time. With Dad sitting behind me, we took off and I never looked back.
The world was now at the twist of my wrist. I tasted freedom and responsibility for the first time. I could go as fast as I dared, and no one could slow me down. Consequences were real but the thrill was worth the risk. I had never felt cooler.
With this newfound freedom came the responsibility of maintenance and repairs. Many afternoons were spent next to our blue shed, learning how to change the oil, bleed brakes, and clean air filters. Spinning wrenches was a necessary skill, since flipping motorcycles was the best way to upgrade to a faster bike.
The PW50 has long been replaced, but the passion for riding remains the same. I still love riding with my dad, ripping down mountain roads or spinning laps out in country fields. Whether we’re watching a race at Road Atlanta, working on a bike in the driveway, or setting out on a new adventure, the speed is still potent, and our bond only grows stronger thanks to two wheels.
