Motorcycle Genetics

Most of us can recall the progression of a particular model of motorcyle with relative ease. Some models made significant impacts on a given genre, and came to define a brand. Just name a few, and it already conjures up images of what model begat the next. Hurricane. Many can readily name the models and versions that followed, and some will know what was the "hot" bike that preceded it. Ducati 916, KZ1000, Magna. All of these bring to mind a certain picture of lineage and pedigree. Each inspiring many other models and versions to follow.

I would suggest that people posses a motorcyle gene. Is it a recessive gene like those of folks who have green eyes? Did you grow up with a natural interest or fascination in motorcycles or was it cultivated? Have you always had and interest in bikes or did you begin by riding a CBX500 because you were a poor college student getting to campus on the cheap, or did a Harley-Davidson advertisment light the fire of your mid-life crisis? Either way it brought you to this website. For some of us it unexplainably begin at an earlier time of our lives before we ever swung a leg over such a machine?

Seeing Evel Knievel as a young lad made me aware of my recessive motorcycle gene. I come from a long and distinguished line of muts. I am adopted, my father, his brother, and paternal grandfather are all adopted. Get my father's side of the family together, and you might as well keep the sample picture that comes in the picture frame from Wal-Mart. Meaning, nobody looks like anyone else. On the mother's side, its more traditional and somewhat ho-hum, these are a classic group of people who could be classified a risk advoidance. You can tell they are blood-relatives as they all have the same dumb look when I even mention riding a motorcycle.

My paternal uncle and all of his biological kids ride. My wife's family works in the motorcycle industry. Bikes are not a tough sell at my house, but only my biological kids showed any interest at a young age. The adopted child does not express much interest. However, here is additional thought for the existance of a motorcycle gene. My youngest child who is 18 months old has been expressing his motorcyle gene for quite some time. When the Suzuki commercial with the guy and gal exchanging keys comes on...watch out as this is his favorite "show". He'll push his way past his sibilings to get a front row seat. Take him to the store, and the only toys he actively seems to seek out are toy motorcycles. Let a H-D with a loud exhaust roll by and he cranes his neck to see the bike. Clearly this young boy is influenced by motorcycles. OK the enviroment of my own home is motorcycle friendly. But that does not totaly explain his exhuberance for motorcycles. Hence, I suggest the notion of a motorcycling gene, and think it would be interesting to read how others came to this sport.

"The Mouse and the Motorcycle" and my Uncle JohnAllen's Triumph chopper were both formative influences in my single-digit years. Seeing him roar up unexpectedly at Thanksgiving was quite the treat.

At 11 being tossed the keys to a Trail 70 and told I could only ride on the ranch (2500 acres or so) by my Uncle Maxwell just cemented the deal. I woudl ride all day, only coming back for gas.

My gene was suppressed by the OPM gene (Over Protective Mother). Once out from under that gene, I came up against another, the dreaded NFM gene (No !@#$! Money!). Slowly but surely I whacked away at that latter gene until the motorhead gene was allowed to see the light of day. It was helped along by a generous friend that made me a smoking deal on the first bike... That was in April of 1999, I was 33 at the time. It has been all down hill since then Now the NFM gene is rearing its ugly head again

My dad had bikes before I was born, so I cannot recall having not had a bike around the house for the first 12 years of my life. Then, my brother and I shared a bike for several years. The attraction was always there for me during the 30+ years I did not have a bike handy to ride.

My not having one at the house while my kids were growing up, and the wife's fear of them, has served in my offspring's lack of appreciation for two-wheeled transportation.

When I rode my first bicycle I was in heaven. I still love bicycles to this day. It represents motion and an expanding world that you can experience. So motorcycles just made this easier. No pedaling.

The Human Genome Project has mapped nearly the entire human genome, and, nope, no motorcycling gene. I expect that motorcycling may be another alternative intelligence, a.k.a., Howard Gardner's Frames of Mind, in which he describes "intelligences" as abilities other than memorize and recite. Those that lack the motorcycling intelligence pretty much weed themselves out of the gene pool pretty quickly. In other words, it is proof that stupid can hurt.

I loved riding the bicycle down hill, it was the uphill trip I had no taste for, along comes the YM80 and thats all she wrote, I did toy with a bicycle for a bit thinking I could use the execise but I found them to be to much work going uphill and stopped riding them.
I dreamed of riding motorcycles, I would lay in bed and think about how to start, shift, stop, wheely and the places I could go but mostly it was the thought of going down hill on a bicycle without having to pedal back up! It is as close to flying as I can get with out actualy having wings attached. I have two older brothers that road but for the most part they did it as a past time. I ride daily, I can only wear a full face when I am at a track or it is below freezing otherwise I need the wind in my face.
I may have issues but I don't care

My dad never owned one, so I don't really know how he learned to ride, but when I was 3 or 4, he took me on several short rides on my cousin's Honda 125 (175?). Me sandwhiched between him and the tank. It was the most exciting thing I had experienced to that moment (till today?). My next experience was about 10 years later riding a trail 90 and on the back of a friend's dad's 305 Scrambler. Mom would have never allowed me to own a bike, but when I got to college, a friend who who had just got an RZ350 asked me if I wanted to ride it. Had to have my own after that, so I found a bike that I could put on my credit card, an '85 500 Interceptor for $1200. I broke the news to mom a couple of weeks later and she was less than thrilled, but dad did invite himself to ride it around the neighborhood a little Told me years later they took out a life insurance policy on me after that.
I got my oldest niece started at less than 2. Snuck out of the restaurant before the rest and rode her around the parking lot while she cried and screamed at the top of her lungs . Next time I went to my sister's house, I put her on it and rode up the street and back. she was frozen, but didn't cry. Next time I went to visit, she tried to climb up the bike when I pulled into the driveway and made sure to wave at the neighbors so they'd see her I'm not sure her younger sister was really excited about riding it, but since her older sister rode it, she just had to too. The neighbor girls were jealous and wanted to ride. I told them only if it was ok with their parents, which it was not.
Unfortunately, due to a divorce, by nieces live in Colorado Springs now. I talked to the middle one to wish her a happy birthday last week, and she asked if I could bring the motorcycle next time I came for a visit, which is a little hard to do on the plane

My dad and grandfather co-owned a Honda CB-77 Superhawk and used to take me for rides in the late 60's. It took me until 1978 to talk my parents (mom) into a motorcycle, but with $600 of my own hard-earned money I purchased a used Yamaha DT-100. A year later, I added a KDX175 followed by a KX250 and a KZ1000 for my first full on street bike. I had that bike until I got married and had kids. After a nine year break, I bought a 2000 ZR-7 and the madness began again.

My dad had motorcycles when I was a boy, never really remember
asking for one but right after I was able to hold up a Z50 Monkey
one showed up at the house, I was 4 and that was the start
turned 45 today and have never gone a day since the first bike
came home that I have not owned a least one motorcycle.

It was 1958, I was 7 years old, my sisters boyfriend had a Harley Dresser. It was red and white and I was HOOKED. At 13 me and my brother pooled our hay hauling money and bought a 48 Hardley. I rode that for 3 years with out a license on a paper route to keep gas,tires and oil. Motorcycles have been the one Constant in my life ever since. Heck, I even rode a Honda 90 when I was in Cambodia in 71.

Maybe not so much a gene but a predisposition? My dad rode, and from the time I was 10, I rode. My parents never felt that motorcycles were too dangerous. Owning motorcycles was as natural a thing as owning cars.

Since this thread has side-stepped from genetics to passions, I'll add my 2-cents. I found a 3hp Techumseh-powered minibike on a trash pile when I was 9. The only reason I continue to ride is because I don't have the ability or money to build something like a McLaren M8 and make it street legal.

http://www.bruce-mclaren.com/cars/canam/McLaren Can Am Cars.htm

I am the only one in my family that rides with passion. So much for the genes.
Like Rick, I fell in love with two wheels via bicycles. I looked forward to every hill because it meant a downhill run was coming.
I was not drawn to the Harleys and Indians because they seemed so large.
Cushmans were more curious than appealing.
BSAs, Triumphs and Nortons were stunning.
When the Japanese arrived, motorcycles became affordable.
The sMother effect precluded ownership but didn't seem to hinder riding.
I had to wait until emmancipated from home before I could actually own a motorcycle.
Life has been good ever since.