i was reading my newest asa newsletter, and in the chairman's message Bill Jones asks the members to share their reasons for doing what we do.
Why I ride-
I grew up riding. At age 4 I can remember faint memories of my grandmother clapping and telling me how good of a rider I was. She would always praise me. By 7 I was doing donuts in full view of my family, seeking their approval. I wanted to show them how good I was, I wanted to be Evil Kneivil. And I was. I strutted into camp looking for grandmas kind words of approval. What I got was an earful from my parents and my grandpa..something about dust..I don't recall..I was hurt. But grandma came over to me with my head laid low on my bike and told me never mind them, I was fantastic...I looked like that Evil guy on tv.....how she knew..I'll never know.
Years went by, and as I got better and better (my brother and I were always so competitive) my dirt bike taught me a lot. I could figure out how to get to the top of that hill..I could shift out of first gear, I could sometimes even pass my brother. Yes, riding built confidence, self reliance, and a sense of family.
My dad did so much for me...helped me in so many ways, and pushed me to be independent. Riding taught me to live on my terms. Riding taught me that it took my whole family, working together, to make good things happen. To make camping happen.
I learned how to build fire, what stars were, who god was, where my family came from, what my parents did when they were young. Campfires taught me so much about who i was, what aspirations my folks had for me, and that only through clean living and hard work would I have this love...riding.
I remember graduating high school and getting my very own 4x4 truck as a graduation gift. that was one of the happiest days of my life.
Oh, the times I had with my friends..with girlfriends...oh, i can't help but smile when i think of my youth.
I had kids very young...and from the day my first child was born, i became a kid all over. every toy, every pajama, every pillow case, it oozed riding.
Oh how i miss having trucks and motorcycles ridden across my face, my chest. The loud screams of a motor as my kids ran around the house with an empty paper towel tube..err, handlebars high in the air.
My kids are getting big now..college for one, graduation from high school this year for the other, boy friends for the third..and then my baby. he is 11.
he still thinks I hung the moon- last weekend he helped me load our trailer..you can see him vibrate with excitement for T-day week. we do t-day week every year..10 solid days. 11 straight years for him, over 20 for me.
I wish i could put into words a fathers pride when you see your kids grow. When you see them learn. when you hear them telling other kids not to litter. When you watch them set up camp, diagnose a motor, start a fire. When you hear them discussing things with littler kids..and you hear yourself in them.
Life is a ladder...i see and hear my father in me all the time, and I see and hear my childrens father in them. I am happy, i am proud of the family I have built.
riding was fun with my dad, but what he taught me and the tools he gave me can never be just spoken..no. My dad showed me, and told me. thats what camping is all about.
there are special interest groups out there that want to take this sport away from us...they want to end our family histories..deprive our kids of this special bond between parents and youth. I cannot ever stop defending my history. My passion, my memories, my love.
i attribute this sport as to why i did not do drugs. My family respect for my dad, my mom, my relatives..i couldn't ever let them down.
they gave me an outlet to focus my energy-and I did. and my kids have...
We must never accept closures. The mere thought makes me worry that i won't get my turn..i want to tell my grandkids the kind words grandma always did, when everyone else is in their face for doing something wrong.
i want to be remembered the same way my heart remembers my grandparents...
and that, friends, is what riding is all about. Families spending time together, building solid relationships, lasting forever....

awesome story Big Had.. Although our stories are totally different - they have alot of common ground.. thanks..

we all come from different backgrounds..and like our troops..we all share one thing in common....being American...camping, riding, buggies, bikes, trailers, trucks, families together..it is what makes us America...

Awesome, my background is very familiar.

1972, my father bought a Dalesman motorcycle in a crate from overseas, that was the beginning. All because our next door neighbor had this sweet Bultaco. Soon after, he got me a 1972 Z50 Honda, dad still has it, and it runs. Soon after, my parents got divorced, but going to the desert was our time with Dad, every other weekend we were riding at Gorman, Jawbone Canyon, or Kennedy Meadows. Those things taught me disipline and self reliance, plus I had a great time with some great families.......I used to lay in bed at night dreaming of climbing the big hill at jawbone. Every trip I would give it a try, first on the 50, then on my YZ80, then my YZ175, then finally I made it up on my 1978 CR250,,,,,,,unbelievable feeling, then I had to go down the hill.......wow did that scare me. The whole time my father was there enjoying the ride, not a day goes by that I don't think about how lucky I have been to be off-roading since 1972.

If we weren't riding, I was in the garage helping Dad get everything ready for the next trip, whether it be handing tools to him, or rebuilding the top end on my YZ80, which it seemed we did a lot, but either way it was family time................and a way of life.

Fast forward 35 years, I am still camping with some of those same friends I camped with in 1972. They are truley family on so many different levels.........