When I think about it, I wanted to ride my bike every day. *I still commute on it now, though.
Not that I was going anywhere in particular, but I’d just ride around and around
Back in those days without smartphones like today, the free way to kill time was TV.
And then there was browsing at bookstores (some old bookstores would get angry if you stood reading, so it was scary).
But a motorcycle—from the moment you move even 1 centimeter—it’s an attraction!
It was late December, and it had snowed—a really boring weekend.
The snow on the highway had mostly cleared, so I thought maybe it would be okay to ride my bike. I figured I’d head down to the waterfront or somewhere… and I remember I took my beloved NS50F out for a spin.
I remember riding over the slightly dark pavement without even thinking about icy road conditions.
My gear wasn’t as solid as it is now—just a denim jacket and jeans with cheap leather gloves (probably pigskin). Even back then, my hands and feet were numb from the cold, and they were starting to get slightly damp with moisture.
The further I went where there were no people, the more snow there was, and eventually the road conditions got so bad that I’d fall over immediately if I didn’t keep both feet out.
The moment I sensed the danger!! Crack! Snap!
Oh… the lever broke (clutch). Seriously?
Fortunately it was a 50cc, so at traffic lights I could stay in neutral and just kick-start it while straddling the bike, and somehow I managed to limp home over several hours—a bitter memory.
Back then there were no cell phones like today, and my optional insurance didn’t include towing.
I couldn’t ask anyone for help without figuring out how to get there first.
Considering how long it would take, if there was any way to manage it myself, I had no choice but to get back on my own.
I think most middle-aged riders today have had this kind of experience.
I couldn’t leave my beloved bike behind, so I pushed it for four hours…
That’s a pretty bitter motorcycle story you don’t experience in everyday life.
Maybe this too is part of the essence of riding a bike? Bitter experiences you don’t want to taste might also be delicious in their own way. Maybe it enriches your spirit…
Whether it does or not might be up to you? (´；ω；`)
