My first car was a motorcycle.
I grew up on the back of a motorcycle - my dad didn't have a car until I was a teenager.
You'd never have a motorcycle policeman out on the Indian reservation.
People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs.
I have this vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle jacket. When I put it on, it has this supercool feeling to it.
I actually have no aspirations to ride a motorcycle ever again. It's exhausting. You get cold.
I've had motorcycle accidents!
I grew up playing paintball and riding motorcycles and horses, so I really know how to rough and tumble.
The connection to place, to the land, the wind, the sun, stars, the moon... it sounds romantic, but it's true - the visceral experience of motion, of moving through time on some amazing machine - a few cars touch on it, but not too many compared to motorcycles. I always felt that any motorcycle journey was special.
The very first time I got to drive by myself, I took a bunch of my friends to school and was caught by a motorcycle cop going 90 miles an hour on a back street.
