It’s not you. It’s me. We had a good run. It’s been fun, but it is time for me to move on. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the times we’ve spent together. We adventured far and wide. We have overcome things together that, to be honest, I thought might not have been possible. You’ve been a real trooper and I put you through Hell. I can’t say I’m sorry for that. I know you liked it. Even if I was a little rough on you.
Remember when we cruised the Great Smokey Mountains? The colors and the smell of the autumn air. And that pavement, mmmmm, so perfect. The roads darlin’, they were beautiful. You were so tight and shiny and new. I remember how you felt then, before I did those things to you.
How about that time in the American South? Remember that Soul Food in South Jackson, Mississippi? Now that’ll stick to your ribs.
I actually remember what happened when we ran out of gas in Texas that one day. The night before I had tried to fill up, but the gas station wouldn’t take my card. I logged the task as complete in my brain and the next morning I’m emptying the camp stove into the gas tank. It happens. Sorry baby.
The 20 miles of cobblestone road to Real de Catorce? That was a day. I thought I’d rattle us both to pieces, but you made it darlin’. And back.
Or the time the police tried to extort us for parking illegally?
Sometimes it rained like gangbusters and we got wet. Other times we found shelter in the knick of time, but you we’re always there. Even when we froze our butts off in the mountains around Xilitla.
And then there was that day in Guatemala… You know the one.
That one where we wrecked terribly and it took us almost a week to make it 80 miles. Those we’re trying times, but we persevered. You’re a champ.
You would think I would have learned better, but there we are a couple weeks later in the same conditions. Again, and again and again.
But you kept on with your keepin’ on. It seemed like every other country was a trip to the mechanic.
A little weld here, a little weld there. It’ll be okay darlin’, only a few thousand more miles to go.
Thank goodness we could space them out with trips to the circus.
We even went for a ride on a boat to the islands.
In the end, we did it. We drove from West Virginia to the Panama Canal.
We’ve traveled 8,322 miles together across 9 countries and I’ll miss you motorbike. It was a good run indeed, but today you leave us for a new home in Panama. It’s like retirement darlin’. I’ve put you through hell and you deserve it. You’ve been amazing.
I’m sure no matter where you go from here your life will be a breeze compared to your time with me. You’re a heck of a bike Honda. I’m sure you’ll make your new owner very happy.