Selling a perfectly good motorcycle is an odd experience. Like accepting a dowry for your own wife, it seems crazy to think about the words as they come from your mouth, extolling the bike, recounting your favorite memories with her, describing the time and money, the sweat and tears that you've devoted to her, all just to now turn her over to some stranger. Why, then, would you give her up?
The prospect of a great opportunity evokes thoughts of, well, great things. What often goes overlooked are the hard things, in particular the sacrifices one has to make in order to seize opportunities. In my case, I made the difficult decision to sell my truly beloved 1974 BMW R75/6, affectionately dubbed "die Lorelei". Our love was as legendary as her name, and I've learned more about riding motorcycles from that black beauty than any other bike.
The sting of parting with my old lady was made more tolerable by the fact that the guy I gave her up to seems to be an alternative-reality version of me +15 years. On the day of the sale, I rode up to find him standing next to a beautiful KLR650, which is essentially the counterpart model to the Suzuki DR650 that I ride. Dual-sport riders are a relatively rare breed among motorcyclists, as this kind of bike requires a particular mindset and attitude in the rider. I was further encouraged and also pretty amused when I observed what die Lorelei's new owner was wearing: dark long-sleeve thermal, blue jeans, black Alpinestar boots. My outfit at the time: dark long-sleeve thermal, blue jeans, black Alpinestar riding shoes.
I'm satisfied knowing she'll be treated well, ridden often, and not tampered with. Auf wiedersehen, you black Bavarian beauty! Thank you for everything you taught me about motorcycles and for providing the seed for my new moto-adventure.