Vroooom

My brother, Dave, came to our house the night before the BMW motorcycle rally started in St. Paul back in 2014 (I think). He and I Google Earth-ed the state fairgrounds (that seems like it should be capitalized, and maybe italized, the State Fair Grounds. Okay, maybe not) to figure out where he should pitch his tent – ya gotta know the best spot (he recently mentioned that Minnesota has a rule – law? – that tents – even just the stakes – have to be 72″ apart. There was a guy from the state with a 72″ stick measuring people’s distances and making them move if they were closer than 6 feet). He’d had a motorcycle as long as I could remember, but that was the first time I learned about rallies.

Motorcycle rallies gather brand enthusiasts (maybe there are other parameters, I just know about this one). There are vendors and activities and group rides and music. I was fascinated to learn about all the aftermarket items that a rider can purchase to make their bike safer or more comfortable or more efficient. I learned about Dave’s super suit (is that my term, or did I learn it from him?) – the coat and pants he wears to protect himself while riding. I learned he has gloves tailored to fit his hands (the company tailors gloves for all customers, but Dave is missing some finger parts, so it’s extra handy. Handy! Ha!) with the seams on the outside, which is more comfortable for wearing a long time. He has met many people over the years and looks forward to seeing them each year, chatting over campfires and meals.

I thought it was really cool and I had no idea such a thing existed. He missed this year’s rally, because I scheduled our family reunion on the same weekend. Whoops. Turns out it was HOT in Missouri (the location moves each year – the participants are quite mobile and can get where they want to be) and a lot of people left very quickly. After the reunion, he mentioned he thought he would ride the river road (Mississippi River) and end up at our house the next weekend. He has had our brother-in-law, Michael, join him on a few trips (because a second motorcycle got all shiny and said, “Buy me!” a few years ago, so now he has two) and he did this trip.

It’s fun to have them vroooom in for a few days, and it is exciting to see them vroooom away (okay, they are not Harleys so they don’t actually make lots of noise. I am very, very thankful for that. I have to admit there are few things I find more obnoxious than loud motorcycles). I am very happy to have a convertible (car) and have no interest in being a motorcycler, but I think it is pretty great anyhow.