Motorcycle Show

Cheers to you, Mom

April 10, 2019

Reflecting on my motorcycle upbringing

Story by: Emily Roberts

I remember when my mom enrolled me in Irish dance class – I was excited, yet there were so many other things to do. Like riding a dirt bike. She would squeeze my feet into small leather shoes and watch every class. I hated it at the time, but I became good enough to compete and I won many medals in the 10 years I danced. That was until my teacher pulled me aside one day after class and explained to me that I was very good, but it was too risky for me to continue dirtbike riding and dancing competitively.

That was the day I quit Irish dancing.

ending pic _MG_1262I couldn’t tell if my mom was upset or delighted that I had decided to quit. She put so much time into helping me become a great dancer when all I wanted to do was ride my bike. I think it was a bit of a relief knowing that she wouldn’t have to wrangle me into going to dance class anymore.

Moms are funny in that sense. You never realize how good their intentions are when you’re a child, but as you get older, you notice little things that you start to do instinctively because your mother drilled it into your subconscious. Like a bear raising her cubs, a mother’s nurture is the most integral factor of survival. Reflecting on my childhood, I see the amount of endless love and encouragement my mom had given me. Like most children, I never looked at the greater picture and realized how much she did just to make sure I could do what I loved.

So this Mother’s Day, I wanted to simply say thank you to all the mothers out there and women who have inspired us on our journey.

Whether we live near or far from you, know that we are a better version of ourselves because of you.

Thank you for staying strong when we came home with our first street bike, thinking we were the coolest kids in the world. Watching us ride away for the first time not knowing what the future would bring for us on these two-wheeled beasts called motorcycles.

And thank you, Mom, for letting me borrow your motorcycle with only 5,000 km on it when I was 18 years old. I vanished down the road into the horizon, only to…

One Comment

  1. Great picks of you growing up with a two wheeler and congratulations on having a supportive mom to guide you through your formative years.
    I was on the other end of the story rembering my learning years as well.
    When I was 17 my mom, like many others, telling us that if you brought home one of those two wheel death machines you would have to find some place else to live !
    My younger brother ignored the warning and bought a bike and stored it in our uncle’s garage just down the street. He managed to keep it a secret for two years before he was found out. His best laugh was pulling up along side our mother at a stop light. His dark visor shielding his face. Apparently he got a scowl as he peeled off from the light.
    I was not so lucky as when my insurance papers arrived to the house. I thought by putting them in my fathers name I could avoid detection until he beat me to the mail.
    I will never forget the look on his face when he brought them to me explaining that I would have to fess up to mom.
    Surprisingly, neither my brother or I were made homeless.
    We selebrated by filling the driveway with bikes from all our friends and even took mom for her one and only ride around the block.
    Still trying to get her on the back of the Goldwing some thirty five years later.
    Great memories, good times.

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