OK, not quite Star Trek, but still.
Attached pic of my wife and I with our daughter with her newly acquired DRZ400. With us is her friend from whom she bought the bike when she got her "new used" R6.
How did I feel about it when she asked us a couple weeks ago as to how we would feel about her getting a road bike? Obviously somewhat mixed feelings. But then: how can I even think of denying her the same pleasure that my wife & I have derived from this hobby over many, many years?
Note that she used to have a Kawa 80cc dirtbike some years ago: in falling from this during a jump she crushed one of the vertebrae in her back. She now has some stainless and/or titanium bits in her back holding three vertebrae together.
The only condition that I imposed (if I were in any position to impose conditions on a 25 year old daughter!) was that she has to take the PRS course: my treat.
So today we went for a ride: collected her and her friend from whom she bought the bike in North Van, rode to Horseshoe Bay via Marine Drive, returned to North Van for lunch & then escorted her home.
Seems like motorcycling is like diarrhea: it runs in the genes (or is that jeans?).
Edit: I know I will catch living heck from the gear police, but I decided to attach a 23 year old pic of the two of us on my Honda 1100F. This was in a dead-end street in front of our house: took her for a 200m ride!