A few weeks ago I hosted my first motorcycle movie night, streaming films from the Toronto Motorcycle Film Festival library. Pizza. Friends. Many two-wheeled adventures showed on screen. A little moto-livery was exactly what a dark, wet January needed across my riding community.
Of all the films, Hey Kid hit the hardest.
I’ve been thinking about that film ever since. About my own younger self and the moment everything changed.
This is my letter to that kid.
Hey Kid,
You have no idea the impact that pressing that starter button on this YZF-50 is going to have on your life. You’re beginning an epic story with some of your closest friends—something your future self will talk about longer than you’ve been alive.
The next two hours riding around this beachfront town will have a profound impact on your future. You’ll soon see, smell, and taste what motorcycling is all about. You’ll spend the rest of your high school days mowing lawns to twist this very throttle again. Year after year you’ll hear our mom and dad say no to getting your own motorcycle, deferring to the year you are “off the payroll.” You’ll push back. You’ll think they don’t get it.
They do. They’re just scared for you.
You’ll find a way to go back to that beachfront town to taste the thrill of throwing your leg over the saddle on various bikes every spring break and summer vacation. You won’t say thank you enough to your friend’s mom who made this moment happen for you. Make sure she knows how much you enjoyed the time on the bike.
You’ll sit on the corner of Back Beach Road looking down US Highway 98, wondering what places it can take you—even down to the edge of the state to Pensacola. You don’t really know anything about Pensacola other than that it’s there, and yet that’s still a good enough reason to go. You’ll wonder what’s beyond Pensacola, and your middle-aged self still agrees it was a good decision to go with your dad. Thank him too.
Time passes both slowly and quickly at the same time. High school folds into college. College means more trips down to the Florida Panhandle, renting a different bike each time. You’ll find yourself switching between tall dirt bikes, a 600cc RR bike you never should’ve ridden to begin with, and coming back to the same Honda cruiser whenever it was sitting in the parking lot.
You’ll thank yourself for reading all that you could about motorcycles and investing in gear that keeps you safe. Your older self looks back on you, realizing that enrolling in the Motorcycle Safety Foundation class was not only smart but strategic in keeping you safe. Always find that adventure and protect your margin of safety.
Here’s the thing—you don’t see it now, but pressing that starter button will take you far in life. Remember all that wild topography you’d stare at for hours in Boy’s Life magazine and on maps of the western US? Your motorcycle is going to bring you there—to California, one of the most amazing places on the planet for riders like you. You won’t see it at the time, and sometimes I don’t understand it myself even now, but that motorcycle will continue to take you far in life.
Pressing that starter button is going to show you this beachfront town in a whole new light. Crossing streets quickly feeds into crossing cities, crossing states, crossing countries, and even crossing continents. You’re going to meet so many people who share the same enjoyment and experiences. Today you may only put 50 miles on that odometer, but over your lifetime you’ll measure the miles toward that million-mile mark.
You’re going to land in places that truly stretch you. You’re going to see amazing parts of nature on two wheels. You’re going to ride amongst the largest living things in the world. You’ll ride mountain passes over 10,000 feet, towering over the world beneath. That starter button will take you to the ends of the earth.
Life isn’t always going to be easy. You’ll have to make hard decisions with limited insight. Your heart will break more than once. Some people you trust will leave. Others will reveal themselves to be less than who you thought they were. You’ll question whether you made the right choices, whether you should have stayed in places that felt safe but small.
The bike won’t fix those things.
But it’ll give you a place to think them through—mile after mile, turn after turn, until the answers feel clearer. Your motorcycle helps you do life.
Much like you’re feeling today, there’s something special about putting on your gear and throwing your leg over the saddle. As time goes on, that special place only gets better and better.
You and I—we’re storytellers. We build community around the things we love. You’re going to build a life around two wheels. Not just riding yourself, but bringing others into it, much like you’re doing right now. You’ll learn how to work on your own bike and teach others to wrench on theirs. You’ll plan trips together with your tribe and tell stories around campfires. Every mile gets better when you share them.
I have so much to tell you, but I don’t want to spoil your surprise. Just know that once you press that starter button, a whole new life is about to unfold.
Keep your hands light on the bars, anchor your legs tightly to the tank, look through the turns, and enjoy the ride.
And remember…. thank Kevin’s mom.
Love,
Future You
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