The Road That Built Me

Some moments in life mark a clear before and after. For me, 2008 was one of them. It’s the year I bought my first motorcycle—a Kawasaki Ninja 250—and the year I met Monica. Two decisions that, looking back, would shape the rest of my life.

The First Ride

I still remember that first ride vividly. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew it felt right. I bought the bike, and the first place I went was Monica’s. We weren’t even dating yet. I took her for a ride around the block—a simple, perfect moment that I’ll never forget.

I had accidents that first year, but never let fear push me off the road. At the time, I also let other people's criticism affect me—people who didn’t even ride made me feel small for having a "beginner bike." That pressure led me to upgrade through the years: ZX-6R, ZX-10R, each one faster and more powerful than the last. But with speed came more spills, more injuries—and eventually, one loss I couldn’t fix: in 2016, my ZX-10R was stolen from right outside my house.

It was a hard lesson in letting go, but life had more in store for me than just horsepower.

The Shift

That same year, something unexpected happened—Monica brought home a dog named Doris. It was Valentine’s Day. At the time, I wasn’t a fan of dogs. But Doris reminded me of my father’s dog, and since he had passed in 2013, I agreed to give her a chance.

I didn’t expect Doris to bond with me the way she did—or how much I would end up loving her. Training her brought a kind of peace and focus I hadn’t felt in a long time. She’s become part of our family. She rides in the car, shops with us, barks too much when people walk by—but she’s home.

A Family in Motion

I’ve been sober since June 2018—a decision that changed everything for me. Before Monica’s mom moved in around 2020, I had already started to see life differently, waking up from years of numbing myself with alcohol. Monica often said, “We never do anything,” and those words stuck with me. She was right—I just didn’t know what to do or where to go. So I turned to something that always brought me peace: riding.

Around 2020, Monica’s mom moved in with us. Soon after, she was diagnosed with cancer. I became her driver to medical appointments, helped with shopping, and did my best to keep things running smoothly. Sadly, my own mom passed away in September 2023, which made including Monica’s mom in our lives even more important. Thankfully, she’s now in recovery—and through it all, we’ve become a tightly knit unit: me, Monica, her mom, and Doris.

In recent years, I’ve changed even more. Riding still grounds me, but now it’s about more than just the ride—it’s about making moments count.

Enter the Navi

On New Year’s Eve 2023, Monica and I both bought Honda Navis. Small, unassuming machines—but full of soul. In many ways, they reminded me of that Ninja 250. But this time, I didn’t care what anyone thought. These weren’t bikes to prove anything. They were bikes to live on.

And live we have. We ride to work. We grocery shop with saddlebags and bungee cords. We go moto camping. We explore roads we've never ridden. We bring the camera gear, document it, and call it life.

I favor my Navi over my ZX-10R in many ways now. It represents freedom without ego—motion without pressure. It’s fun. It’s efficient. It makes people smile. Sometimes they laugh at us. Sometimes they admire us. It doesn’t matter. We’re happy.

MotoLinux: More Than a Domain

When the company I worked for was sold and my job started winding down, I decided to build something of my own—something that brought together my love of motorcycles and technology. That's how MotoLinux.com was born.

What started as a resume project became a passion. A space to share, connect, and maybe inspire someone else who’s trying to ride through life with meaning. It's not just about machines. It’s about maintenance of the mind, the heart, and the relationships that keep us moving forward.

Final Thoughts

I don’t always know what to do or where to go next. I still find myself wishing I had better answers when Monica asks, “What’s the plan?” But what I’ve learned is that the most meaningful journeys rarely have set destinations.

Whether we’re riding the Navis to nowhere, picking up pickles at a roadside stand, or sitting quietly at home with Doris and her mom, we’re moving in the right direction—together.

Because life isn’t about horsepower.
It’s about heart.
And I’ve got more of that now than I ever did at full throttle.