A few weeks ago I was on a date with a woman. It was pretty early in the dating process – that awkward stage where there’s preliminary attraction but you just don’t know for sure. We were at a coffee shop, groping for common ground, and it was becoming increasingly clear there wasn’t enough.

Then she sealed her fate by asking, “What’s with the motorcycle thing, anyway?”

I was caught off guard by the whole way she asked the question, in a semi-accusatory way. As if I had to justify my love of motorcycles to her. I thought for a moment about how to answer. Usually, I tell my story about how watching The Last Lecture had me thinking about childhood dreams, and how this led me to inventory my childhood dreams, and #1 on the list was riding a motorcycle, and how within 60 days of that realization I had a motorcycle license and a new Triumph America.

If I want to be charming, I’ll tell that story, and continue on to how motorcycling has since become my #1 passion and hobby and has changed  my whole lifestyle. But I had no desire to be charming with this woman since it clearly just wasn’t there. Didn’t want to waste my breath.

So I simply replied, “It’s fun.”

Fun.

And it’s true. Why do I ride, really? Because it’s fun. Why do I chose to go through the process of gearing up and stowing my briefcase and ride to work instead of drive? Because it’s fun. Why did I essentially give up golf because I preferred going for a long motorcycle ride on a Saturday afternoon to hacking my way around a golf course? Because it’s fun. Why do I take 10 or so days a year off from work to go on motorcycle camping trips instead of lying on a beach? Because it’s fun.

So there you have it folks, I ride because it’s fun. And that’s now become my standard response when someone asks about riding a motorcycle and how I got into it and why I ride. It’s simple: I ride because it’s fun.

Fun.

Fun.

Fun.

Fun.