06/11/2026
6:00 AM Thoughts
This morning, I’m grateful for this view.
A few years ago, this garage was just an idea. Today, before the sun comes up, it’s filled with motorcycles, memories, and reminders of how fortunate I am.
The two bikes on the lifts belong to customers who trusted me with something important to them. The covered Street Bob in the back belongs to Megan. The silver Street Glide and the red Springer are mine.
What’s funny is how different those two bikes are.
The Street Glide has carried me all over the country. It’s smooth, comfortable, and effortless… like riding an air-suspension Cadillac. Together we’ve crossed deserts, climbed mountains, circled the Upper Peninsula, completed an Iron Butt, and made the trip from Michigan to Southern California and back. It doesn’t just hold fuel and luggage… it holds memories.
The Springer couldn’t be more different. It’s loud, raw, mechanical, and unapologetic. Built motor, rigid attitude, and enough personality to make every ride feel like an event. Riding it feels less like transportation and more like grabbing freedom by the handlebars and twisting the throttle.
Both bikes are built. Both make me smile. But they do it in completely different ways.
Lately, life has given me a reminder that none of us know how many miles we have left.
My dad is currently on hospice.
Writing those words still doesn’t feel real.
Standing here this morning, I find myself thinking less about the rides we won’t take and more about the ones we did.
The long days. The wrong turns. The gas station conversations. The roadside meals. The memories that seemed ordinary at the time but somehow became the ones that mattered most.
One of those memories was riding to Southern California and back with my dad and my best friend Kevin. Thousands of miles. Endless conversations. Three motorcycles pointed west with no agenda beyond enjoying the journey and the company.
At the time, it felt like another adventure.
Looking back, I realize it was something far more valuable.
It was time.
Time spent with people I cared about. Time that seemed unlimited back then. Time that I now understand was one of life’s greatest gifts.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized gratitude isn’t always about what lies ahead. Sometimes it’s about recognizing how fortunate you were to experience something at all.
This garage isn’t full of motorcycles.
It’s full of stories.
And this morning, I’m grateful for every mile I was lucky enough to share with the people I love.
☕️🏍️