After taking 20-year break from riding, Heath Schecter finally buys the bike he wanted in his youth… (click HERE to read part 1)

I have to admit, I was a bit scared. I hadn’t ridden anything—other than a scooter once or twice—since selling my last bike, all those years ago. And this 1450cc Fat Boy was big and heavy. But I handed over my money, took my picture with the bike, and walked out of the dealership saying, “I’ll pick it up next week.” Why next week? I don’t know. I didn’t want to leave my car there, I  wasn’t ready to ride it home, and I was scared because I renewed my “M-class” on a little f*cking scooter and not a motorcycle. Oh, and I hadn’t ridden in 20 years.

That whole week, I had dreams of being on the bike, picturing myself as a badass, and couldn’t wait to pick it up. I had my wife drop me off at the dealership and though she wanted to see the bike, I sent her on her way, telling her I had paperwork to do. I didn’t want her to see me scared getting on and not knowing if I could ride it or not. They brought the bike out. There it was: my 2000 Harley Davidson Fat Boy, black with glistening chrome, and purring with that heavy Harley roar. Then it was time for me to hop on.

I was told I could go ride it around back a bit if I wanted. That’s exactly what I did; I went around the back lot 2-3 times, shifting gears and making turns, before I headed back towards the front lot — and off into the street, waving goodbye. I was set. It was like “riding a bike.” My muscle memory and knowledge were still there. I didn’t want to get off. I went riding for a good 90 minutes before even stopping at home… where my wife was waiting with her cell phone to take my picture. That’s when I realized: I’m definitely not a badass.

I’ve had the Harley for 2-3 weeks now, and I ride every day, getting my wind therapy in. It makes me think about what I want to do with my life. Honestly, I wouldn’t really change anything — except I’d love for riding to be more integrated. Unfortunately my bike doesn’t have saddlebags, and those are pricey. I have a backpack that fits around the sissy bar, but I can barely get 2 bags of groceries in there.

Now I dream about being a Harley Davidson ambassador chef. I don’t think there is such a title, but if there were, I’d want to be it. Riding cross-country on a brand new orange (it’s my favorite color) Harley, decked out with matching saddle bags; I’d ride around doing cooking demos and food shows throughout the states: “Heath Schecter, the Harley Davidson Chef.” I imagine being fitted head to toe with HD merch, my chef coat black and orange, with flames or the Willy G skull logo on it.

Maybe Harley teams up with Hummer, and they do a branded HD Hummer (I read they’re going to make an electric one) and it comes with a way to strap the Harley to it (and there’s that tie back to the 90’s show Renegade). It’s packed with cooking equipment and grills, and I drive all over and do demos and push the HD lifestyle. Remember the HD branded Ford F-150? See, I’ve been obsessed with Harley for decades.

Okay, I’ll admit maybe this is all a mid-life crisis dream — lol. 

I’ve discovered that life throws things at you, and not everyone is a millionaire. Harleys are expensive and Harley gear is expensive. So with that in mind, when you see guys my age buying Harleys, don’t write it off as simply a mid-life crisis—it just took us until mid-life to be able to afford the lifestyle.

Signed,
Heath Schecter, (wannabe) Harley Davidson Chef!