The salesman gave me the keys and stared at me with a puzzled face as he went back inside. I’m sure he didn’t imagine that a day that started rainy, some young dude would come in and purchase a bike with only a few questions beforehand and not even a test drive. Hell, I didn’t even think I’d purchase a bike, but darn dopamine, the drug to my heart.

I’d come in that day, wanting to get a feel for the bike, maybe negotiate a price for a later purchase date. I thought of maybe getting some more practice on my friends bike, before jumping on a bike of my own. What was I thinking… correction, I wasn’t thinking.

Out of curiosity, I sat on some other bikes (by bikes, I’m talking about motorcycles) I had in mind. I sat on one that I was eyeing since high school, maybe would’ve been the better choice. A nice Rebel 500, probably could’ve pulled off the bad boy Harley style, but I knew I needed something with a bit more adventure in it. The rebel while plenty manly (or so my impulsive head thought), didn’t have the magical fitting (whatever the heck this means) that I was looking for. The sound of the bike was of course was more of a Harley. The image of a beer drinking, rebellious teenage boy with tattoos popped in my head. Yeah, something along those lines. Then there was the Shadow Phantom, like a Harley, only reliable. Just kidding. (Actually not) Very nice bike, but who was I kidding, I’m an old soul as it is and me riding that bike would’ve amounted to all the AARP ladies lining up. My Mom might have even laughed at me, thinking I was going through a midlife crisis.

I went back to my current choice, a CB650R. A beauty of bike, Candy red, with the right amount of black, gold and bronze. The salesman filled my ears with how it had just come out and only two were sold before. How no one had driven one out. The man knew me, “me gusta que me coman el oído”. For a bit of context, I tend do a thorough research of things before I buy, going as far as to reading the manual, so it wasn’t like I was clueless on what I was buying. After a bit back and forth, he went to run the numbers and off I was, like a kid in a toy store, who’s playing with his toy still in the package.

In less than 2hrs I was the 3rd owner, and for all I care I could be the 1st because I have not see anyone else with this bike in Miami. (To this day I’ve only seen the 300, not the 650). Of course secrecy was of the upmost importance, only two people knew at that point that I bought a bike… well three, but the third tends to have the memory of a goldfish. I’d end up going back to the office and running errands till the afternoon.

When the salesman gave me the call that it was ready, I went back home to grab my gear, helmet, jacket, shoes, and gloves. Jammed them into an Ironman backpack, the only colorful thing in the whole ensemble and Just like Bond, I requested an Uber and did what I do best… disappear. (Bond didn’t take Ubers, but he was good at disappearing) The ride there was enjoyable to say the least; an uber who’s a/c was putting questionable work and a young Cuban lady who’s Love for Jesus didn’t stop her from cursing at her son while religious songs played in the background. During that time, I was setting up my insurance through the phone, while juggling back and forth with the paperwork I had from the dealership. I managed to set all that up with about 10min to spare to get back to the dealership. It was then and there that I finally thought about what I had done. 3…2…1… and I was off thinking about other things. Enough of this bla bla bla, let get to the part where I ride this baby home.

I turned on the bike and let it run, while the salesman explained the features and the buttons. I’m a nerd when it comes to those things and what he didn’t know is that I already read the manual for the bike, hahaha. (As I explained previously) But it didn’t hurt to go over some things. After going through the walkthrough and taking the picture, I prepared myself for the ride.

Please keep this in mind, I had only ridden a small 150cc bike for about 6hrs at most. I was only decent on that bike and even though I passed my test in pouring rain, this did not make me a Valentino Rossi. Yeah, I do have common sense, (el Mongo being me, didn’t use that common sense), I had been cycling for a while and have an above average knowledge on spirited driving a performance vehicle, this is Miami. Where even that stats on accidents come to crash the top of the charts. But the boy wanted to ride.

My heart rushing with adrenaline, eyes locked on the road, hands gripping those handlebars, and butt well planted on the seat. I left the dealer. This dealer was perfectly situated down south, right on the streets I do my triathlon training and near perfect roads for riding the motorcycle. Roadways covered with canopying trees, acceptable speed limits and best of all, going against all the traffic, not to mention the road had some decent curves.

After practicing and by that I mean I just went up the street and did a u-turn because I noticed it would be harder to cross that intersection, I drove the backstreet down to exit on US-1. Crossing the first part was easy, cars where stopped at the red light, so I just eased off the clutch and rolled through the intersection. The next part was crazy, it was a cross street coming out of a turn, and of course every driver barreling towards the stop light. Here I was trying to cross that road trying to get into the residential area I call my training grounds. I mustered all the courage I had in my huevos and crossed, obviously not a big deal, but well you’d get the picture if you were in my situation.

As I rode through the residential streets, reving the engine, making sure the bike had a nice warmup, I started to open up my senses to the world around me. The sweet smell of oil and fumes, the sound of the high reving engine, reminding me of the Formula 1 cars, the freedom I felt as the air hit and cooled me down from the dreaded summer heat. I Loved the fact that I was hidden beneath all the gear, like a shadow passing through the cemetery.

I arrived to the Starbucks where we (me & the cycling buds) would always stop for a drink during our training rides. Ordered my drink and went outside to admire my new acquisition. I sat there contemplating the life ahead of me with the bike. Yeah it’s Miami, people are crazy, but I tend do see the glass as half full. Finishing my drink, I jumped right back onto the bike. Riding up old cutler, waves from fellow bikers and stares from enthusiastic little kids wondering how much noise it can make.

The rest of the ride home was just me and my brain lost in its own little world. I didn’t need anything else, well maybe a new underwear, because the heat was making me sweat like a pig. As I arrived to my destination, not knowing what would be of me and my new buddy, I took a moment to appreciate all the little moments in life that add the spice to our dishes. Life is just a fickle game mis amigos, just make sure the most important things are put in their place.

~J.

PS: Originally written 08/13/2019, modified & commentary added because yeah…