Reentry Isn’t Quiet
After yesterday’s fight with our bloated medical bureaucracy, I realized I forgot to write about the good stuff. The things that actually matter. The thing that will define my reentry into my life.
Most of you know that since the accident, I’ve been furious, not just because someone hit me, but because they had the audacity to interrupt my nightly ride and permanently disable my favorite bike, Lilith. That part still stings. But what follows immediately after that thought, every single time?
I can’t wait to fucking ride again.
Lilith is dead. That’s a fact. But she left behind a legacy. And more importantly, my garage isn’t empty.
Last summer, I bought Aurora—a 2025 Harley Breakout 117. I hadn’t ridden her much. Maybe 1,500 miles, give or take. She was never meant to be my daily ride. That was Lilith’s job.
Then the accident changed everything.
Here’s the ugly truth about our insurance system: they only care about making the lender whole. They do not give a single shit about making you whole. So no, I won’t be replacing Lilith anytime soon. She’s totaled, and that’s the end of that story.
Which means I lean into the bike I have.
Aurora is a fun bike, great around town, fine for half-day rides. But long distance? Not really her thing. Nowhere to put shit. A little tight on comfort. But stock off the showroom floor? She’s fast as hell.
She also sounds like a goddamned sewing machine. Thanks, EPA, for sticking your dick skinners into motorcycles.
Sometimes I catch myself wondering if things would’ve gone differently if Lilith had been louder. The woman who hit me clearly wasn’t using her eyes, and her brain seems… questionable. But maybe her ears still worked. On Lilith, I only had slip-ons, louder than stock, but still polite.
With my first bike, Rhea, I ran straight pipes. You could hear her coming a mile away.
That’s where I’m headed with Aurora.
I want loud.
I want straight pipes.
And I want the performance boost that comes from unclogging the exhaust and ditching that pesky catalytic converter.
There’s just one problem: I can’t turn wrenches right now. Hell, I can barely kneel. My ankle and wrist are still healing, still weak. So I need someone else to do the work, and I really don’t want to take it to the Harley dealership. They push their parts, and I’m not convinced how far they’re willing, or legally allowed to go.
The other day, I mentioned this to a biker acquaintance at a local brewery. (I don’t drink, but I still go hang out.) He told me who works on his bike. I never take anyone’s word blindly, so I went home and looked the guy up.
Outstanding reviews. Legit shop. Legit business.
Sold.
I called him and laid it out honestly: I’m not a mechanic. If you’ve got better ideas, I’m all ears. Then I read my list: Trask Assault Charger intake, Freedom Performance Sharp Radius pipes, ThunderMax ECM.
He questioned the ECM immediately. I told him I’m thinking long term. He said he has a dyno. I told him, Perfect.
What I want is simple: torque, horsepower, and noise. This is step one of many. As the money comes in over the next couple of years, this is where it’s going.
Then he asked me to text him my VIN, name, and budget. So I did.
Now I wait.
Of course, there’s always the possibility that when he sees my name, he’ll get confused, because whenever people hear my voice, they assume they’re talking to a guy. But I’m hoping he remembers the conversation anyway.
Because man… it would mean everything to have Aurora sitting there, ready, a little louder and a little punchier, for the day I return to the saddle.
It’ll probably be February. Maybe March.
But the moment I can ride again, I will.
And it’d be nice if Aurora was ready to announce it.
You know.
For the kids. 😉
