Riding Is a Privilege: Don’t Take a Single Mile for Granted

Recently, I found myself in a fight I didn’t see coming. Back in mid-April, I was hit with bacterial meningitis and spent five days in the ICU. When I was finally released, the doctors told me it could take six to eight months to feel like myself again. Then they added something that stuck with me, some folks never get back to where they were before.

Yeah… that one hit hard.

I’ve been riding since I was 15 years old, and let’s just say that was a few years ago. Over 40 years on two wheels. Riding isn’t just something I do, it’s part of who I am. So hearing that kind of uncertainty? That’ll make you stop and think.

But here’s the good news, I was back on the bike just 27 days after getting out of the hospital. And I’ll tell you this… I’ve never been more grateful to throw a leg over a motorcycle in my life.

During the riding season, I usually rack up a pretty good number of miles. But that first ride after everything? It hit different.

I was ecstatic to be back on the bike, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get a little emotional out there too. Because the truth is, that hospital stay could’ve gone a whole different direction. My riding days could have been over... or even worse.

And that’s a hard thing to wrap your head around.

I’ve known for a long time that riding is a big part of my life, but in that moment, it became crystal clear just how much. I’m not ready to be done. Not even close. Motorcycling isn’t just something I enjoy… it’s part of who I am. It shapes my days, my plans, and honestly, a lot of my purpose. That might sound a little extreme to some folks, but I’m okay with that.

As I look ahead and start planning the 2026 riding season, I’ve realized something has shifted. My goals aren’t the same as they used to be. This year, it’s less about how many miles I can stack up and more about actually taking it all in. Slowing down. Being present. Appreciating every single ride for what it is.

Because here’s the reality, riding isn’t guaranteed. It’s a privilege.

And if I’m being honest, over the past few years, I might have been going through the motions a bit. Planning rides with the mindset of “there’s always next year.” This experience reminded me real quick… that’s not promised to any of us.

This riding season, I want to be more present. Not just on the bike—but with the people around me.

I’m making it a point to tell the riders I may only see a few times a year at events just how much their friendship means to me. Because over the years, I’ve built connections with riders from all over the country, and those relationships matter more than I probably ever said out loud.

Truth is, they’ve played a bigger role in my motorcycle journey...and my life, than I gave them credit for.

And it doesn’t stop with my riding friends. This mindset carries over to my family and my non-riding friends too. The people who show up, who support you, who share the road, or life, with you… they’re the reason the journey means anything at all.

Yeah, it might sound a little cliché. But sometimes it takes a moment that shakes you up to really see it clearly, life just isn’t the same without the people in it.

Riding is a privilege. One I won’t take for granted again.

Every ride, every mile, every conversation at a gas stop or rally, it all matters more now.

So the next time I throw a leg over the bike, I won’t just be thinking about where I’m going… I’ll be thinking about how lucky I am to still be on the road.

And if you’re reading this, I hope you do the same. So here’s my challenge to you, next time you ride, take a second. Look around. Take it in.

Shoot a text to that riding buddy you haven’t seen in a while. Shake a hand a little longer at the next stop. Appreciate the moment. I came closer than I ever expected to having this all taken away.

That’s not something you really think about when you’re planning the next ride, mapping out a trip, or just heading out for a quick loop after work. You assume the road will always be there. The bike will always be waiting. That there will always be another season, another trip, another ride with friends.

But sometimes life has a way of reminding you that none of that is guaranteed.

Coming out the other side of this, things feel different, in a good way. The rides hit a little deeper. The conversations last a little longer. The simple things, like the sound of the engine firing up or that first stretch of open road, carry more meaning than they used to. And maybe more importantly, I’m paying attention to the people. The ones I ride with, the ones I’ve met along the way, and the ones who’ve supported me off the bike. Because when you really step back and look at it, the miles are great, but it’s the people who make the journey what it is.

This experience didn’t just change how I ride, it changed how I look at all of it.

So the next time I gear up and head out, I won’t just be thinking about the destination. I’ll be thinking about the moment. The opportunity. And just how fortunate I am to still be part of this life on two wheels.