not allowed to ride

[z0mb1e_DUC]

I have a neighbor who's wife sold his bike while he was out of town on a business trip...

Can you say "Grounds for divorce"? 

[Howie]

If one spouse is determined to continue an activity that is an integral part of life and the other spouse tries to ban the activity, regardless of gender or activity, there is something wrong with the marriage.

[eesnas]

lol... my fiance won't let me sell the bike!

I was considering it and she would not let me, there was no way I could convince her the money would be better than the bike right now, so eh higher credit card balance and I still have the bike, fine by me... 

[Spidey]

Our house rules re motorcycles:

1)  I must have life insurance so that Lil Bastard can go to college and so that the Blonde can get herself a coupla pool boys to make up for my absence.

2)  I must have disability insurance so that Lil Bastard can go to college, so that the Blonde can get herself a coupla pool boys and so that I can have Helga, the cruel, misshapen manwoman nursemaid, change my diaper and wipe up my drool.

3)  Can't carry Lil Bastard in my messenger bag.  

4)  <never became a rule>  Lil Bastard can't get on the bike until she's 18.  I've already nixed this one.  

[KnightofNi]

Our house rules re motorcycles:

1)  I must have life insurance so that Lil Bastard can go to college and so that the Blonde can get herself a coupla pool boys to make up for my absence.

2)  I must have disability insurance so that Lil Bastard can go to college, so that the Blonde can get herself a coupla pool boys and so that I can have Helga, the cruel, misshapen manwoman nursemaid, change my diaper and wipe up my drool.

3)  Can't carry Lil Bastard in my messenger bag.  

4)  <never became a rule>  Lil Bastard can't get on the bike until she's 18.  I've already nixed this one.  

can the kid go into a backpack?

[Spidey]

can the kid go into a backpack?

A larger backpack tends to bump against my helmet.  FWIW, Rule #3 used to have an addendum that she wasn't allowed to ride stuffed in my speedhump, but she's since outgrown it so that part of the rule fell by the wayside.

[turbowagon]

My wife kept asking me for a Vespa but I kept saying no, riding is dangerous 

[flynbulldog]

Sorry to pour cold water on this thread but the bottom line is two people with respect for each other and for their individual lives outside of the marriage.
My wife and I have a great relationship at home but we also have a life of our own and we respect that. We have our own friends and some mutual friends,
we have our own interests and activities, and we even often vacation apart.  

Part of my individuality is riding, She would never dream of interfering with that. If she did she wouldn't be my wife.

Everyone needs to have some independence in their life even when you are married. And a good relationship is one that respects and expects independence and individuality. A fully co-dependent life is stifling, unhealthy, and just sad.

[Popeye the Sailor]

how many times have you heard "my wife wont let me ride"? if my wife told me that i would tell her she can't drive her car! as an adult you should do as you please, with in reason of course. i have got some good deals from the "my wife won't let me ride" guys before....so i guess i shouldn't pregnant dog.

al

You sure they were talking about bikes? 

[KnightofNi]

A larger backpack tends to bump against my helmet.  FWIW, Rule #3 used to have an addendum that she wasn't allowed to ride stuffed in my speedhump, but she's since outgrown it so that part of the rule fell by the wayside.

how about saddlebags?

and if you cut holes in the bottom of the backpack for her legs she won't be bumping into your helmet.

[Spidey]

how about saddlebags?

Saddlebags would look funny, dontcha think?  And I'm not gonna ruin a backpack by cuttin' it.  I could just ductape her to an upper fork leg like she's a video camera.   

[KnightofNi]

Saddlebags would look funny, dontcha think?  And I'm not gonna ruin a backpack by cuttin' it.  I could just ductape her to an upper fork leg like she's a video camera.   

i've run with bags on the monster, the xr, and the triumph came with them.

i don't think they look funny at all. you just might need to balance out the bike by putting some weight on the other side. a case of beer should do just fine.

duct tape would work, but it leaves nasty marks on your bike. use zip ties instead. just make sure you get the nice big ones so there is more width and the kid is more comfortable.

[Scottish]

Trust and respect. If you don't have those you don't have a relationship worth having. This doesn't mean that you won't worry one another sometimes, but you have to trust the others judgement.

[Popeye the Sailor]

Trust and respect. If you don't have those you don't have a relationship worth having. This doesn't mean that you won't worry one another sometimes, but you have to trust the others judgement.

I went with money and really hot. So far, so good.

[Johnny OrganDonor]

A few years ago I might have agreed with the prevailing opinions here - but not anymore.   When you’re married, you’re in it together.  I’ve been an adrenalin junkie my whole life and if my wife sincerely had a problem with my risk taking, I would stop.  I’ve ridden for over thirty years. Riding a motorcycle is a selfish act. When you make the beast with two backs up, the people that love you are the ones that pay the price.

I had a bad moto wreck just over two years ago.  I took the day off from work on a beautiful autumn day to take a nice ride down to Yellowstone.  I’ve had a lot of close calls but this was the first time that I ever really had to suffer serious consequences.  I’m still not quite sure what happened but my injuries included a shattered pelvis (open book pelvic fracture), a perforated bladder, and a collapsed lung.  I would’ve been instantly dead except I had good gear on – the front and sides of my full-face helmet were badly gashed.  I very nearly died because of a split second lapse but my wife suffered more than I did.

Kathy had just gotten home from work when she got the call about my wreck.  By the time she drove the 30 miles to the Livingston hospital she was able to see me come in on the ambulance.  She saw them bringing in boxes of blood and the rush of activity.  I was completely out but she held my hand and talked me through it as the ER docs tried to stabilize my condition.  We knew some of the firefighters and paramedics that brought me in and she knew from their behavior that I was in trouble.  She watched them load me onto a life flight helicopter to go to a more advanced hospital.  She couldn’t ride along on the helicopter so she had to drive for three hours in the dark to Billings, not knowing if I’d be alive when she got there.

She was told by the doctors in Billings that I was “pretty messed up” with severe internal bleeding and they couldn’t do anything or even know how badly I was injured until the bleeding was under control.  They weren’t even sure if they could stop the bleeding.  They told her not to leave the hospital – just in case.  She spent the rest of that night in the hospital chapel with her best friend.  Early the next morning, she overcame her fears and checked in the ICU to find that I was gone.  To her relief, they had just taken me out to do some imaging.  

Three days later they were finally able to do the first of six operations that were to occur over the next year.  I woke up in the ICU and Kathy was holding my hand and I could not believe that I’d been in a wreck until she pointed out that I was on a respirator, wearing a neck brace with tubes sticking out my neck and chest. I had no memory of the wreck and she told me how serious it was but also that I’d be OK in the long run.  She then just talked about the places we’d traveled as I fell asleep again.

She took the first two months off from work to take care of me.
She stayed in a hotel to be with me during my three-week hospital stay
She again stayed in a hotel to be with me during the next two weeks of rehab.
She watched me swell up with over 60 pounds of fluid weight gain.
She helped me roll onto my stomach for the first time in four weeks after the wreck.
She rearranged our house to accommodate my hospital bed and my wheelchair when I was finally able come home.
She woke up to check on me through each night.
She changed my dressings and cleaned the wounds.
She massaged and ace wrapped my legs every night to prevent clots.
She organized and administered the numerous meds I had to take.
She shoveled the deep snow off our deck so that she could roll me in my wheelchair down the ramp that the guys on the fire department made so I could get to countless doctors and therapists appointments.
She loaded me into the truck each time I had to go somewhere and hefted the wheelchair into the back.  
She drove me over 150 miles each way for some of the appointments.
She spent countless hours in waiting rooms.
She helped me with my physical therapy and stretching.
She emptied my catheter urine bag multiple times a day.
She gave me sponge baths every day and cleaned around my catheter.  Note that my junk was badly swollen and gross looking as well – imagine a fat potato sticking out of a softball.
She emptied the urine bottles that I had to use for months once the catheter was removed about six weeks after my wreck.
She helped me get onto the bedside commode and, because my arm was in a cast and I was unable to bend, she wiped my ass and emptied the pot when I was done.
She gave me enemas because I was so badly constipated from the pain meds.
She drove me to the ER as I was screaming in pain and passing out because a MRSA infection was forcing the steel plates and screws from my pelvis.
She went pale when she learned about MRSA.
She waited through more surgeries that were needed because of the infection that probably resulted from the first operation that saved my life.
She helped me with IVs that I now needed twice a day to fight the MRSA infection.
She made several trips to the pharmacy to pick up all of my meds including forking out $4,500 for a one-month supply of antibiotic for MRSA when the IVs weren’t effective.
She went back to work and still did everything around the house.
She never complained about money.
She never complained about forgoing any kind of sex life for so long.
Even though I had a home nurse coming in, she set me up each morning before she went to work.  It broke her heart to leave me home alone in my wheelchair.
On her way to work, she would cry as she drove.
She was constantly positive and strong - when things were bad, she never let me see her cry.
She did let me see her cry when she saw me take my first feeble steps again five months after the wreck.
She never blamed me for anything.

She also never asked me to give up riding although she has every right after everything I put her through.
I get the urges and I’ll probably ride again, but for now, I’d feel like a complete dick if I got on a bike.

Like I said earlier, riding a motorcycle is a selfish act.  We can talk about freedom and independence.  Remember that your loved ones have a huge stake in it too.  Trust and respect goes both ways.  

She's pretty hot too.