So there was a little verbal tennis match in the insular motorcycle world that’s applicable to you single people. It started with Jon Langston’s article on Rideapart: 10 reasons you shouldn’t date a motorcyclist. Then the MotoLady blog responded with 10 reasons you should date a motorcyclist.
Both a selfie and a depiction of her typical view of the road, in one photo by Ivonne García.
Sorry, Jon, but I have to give this round to MotoLady. I’ve been riding motorcycles for decades, often to the exclusion of other activities, but 8.5 of the 10 reasons in the Rideapart piece don’t apply to me. On the other side, at least 8, and maybe all 10, if you’re generous, of MotoLady’s traits do apply to me.
With my single days way in the rear view mirror, I believe the real nugget of useful information at the nexus of motorcycles and love life is not whether you should or shouldn’t date someone who rides. It’s what you can learn about potential mates from the way they react to the fact that you ride.
Due to chance and the scarcity of women riders, especially in the past, I never dated a woman who rides. But in my book (contents, sample chapter), I have a chapter dedicated to the story of how my motorcycle helped convince me that Ivonne was the woman to spend the rest of my life with. Not the motorcycle itself, actually, but her reaction to it. Here’s what I learned about my wife-to-be:
- She has an adventurous spirit, because even though she’d never been on a motorcycle when we met, she was eager to try it.
- She is open-minded, because although she is naturally more inclined toward high heels than riding boots, hates getting hit by insects and had been raised by parents who told her never to get on a motorcycle, she embraces riding as a passenger (within her temperature comfort envelope).
- She cares about my happiness, because when we were dating and I had one motorcycle and no car, and decided to buy a second bike, she shared in my happiness instead of criticizing the impracticality of my decision.
- She is trusting and forgiving, because when I once crashed the bike while she was on board, she forgave me and got back on of her own volition, when I wouldn’t have blamed her for swearing off riding.
That’s an abbreviated list of what I learned, but it’s plenty to make the point. A large (not all, but significant) part of what convinced me to marry this woman consists of things I learned about her thanks to my motorcycles. I probably would have eventually learned all that anyway, but because motorcycles polarize, they can also reveal and clarify.
I know of many guys who “can’t buy a motorcycle because the wife won’t let me,” and most of them are not would-be riders, but are former riders. I have a hard time understanding that dynamic in a relationship, and to her credit, my wife finds it even harder to imagine.
Sure she worries when I’m on a trip, or even when I’m just going across town and the news flashes something about a highway being closed because of a motorcycle crash. But she can’t imagine trying to deny me something that I not only love, but has also become a significant part of who I am.
If you just have a motorcycle in the corner of the garage as an occasional toy and riding is a hobby you can pick up or leave any time, none of this really matters. For those of us who live it, for whom riding is part of our identities, I think we can learn a lot about the people we love (or the ones we think we may be falling in love with) from their reactions to our desire to ride.
And that’s true whether you do or don’t, should or shouldn’t, date motorcyclists.
