Two-wheeled Tales: The Therapeutic power of two wheels
I’ve been riding since I was about six years old. It all started with dirt bikes — tearing through trails and kicking up dust. As I got older, I transitioned into scooters and mopeds during my teen years. But then, life shifted. The dirt trails I loved riding on in New Jersey began disappearing, replaced by houses and developments. With nowhere left to ride, I stopped for a while.
About 25 years ago, I found my way back to motorcycles — this time on the road. I picked up my first Harley, and I’ve been riding ever since. There’s something special about being on two wheels, whether it’s off-road or on the pavement. It’s not just transportation; it’s an experience.
There’s a therapeutic effect that comes with riding a motorcycle. It’s hard to describe, but I’ve spent years trying to articulate it. Riding connects you to the world in a way that no car ever can. You notice the smells, the temperature changes every few feet, the wind brushing against you. It’s an immersion in nature that’s impossible to replicate. There’s also the inherent danger of it — a slight edge that forces you to stay in the moment. You can’t let your mind wander because focus is essential. And when the ride is over, there’s this calming, almost meditative feeling that washes over you.
I’ve talked to so many fellow riders about this, and we all agree — it’s magical, but nearly impossible to explain. There’s just something wonderful about being on a bike.
Of course, with that joy comes responsibility. One of the unwritten rules among riders is to always check your mindset before hitting the road. If you’re angry or upset, it can affect how you ride — maybe you’ll go too fast, maybe you’ll take risks you shouldn’t. That can lead to disaster. But there have been days when I felt restless or agitated, and I just needed to get out for a ride. After a couple of hours on the bike, I’d come back calm and centered. Riding has that power.
Because of motorcycles, I’ve met thousands of people I never would have known otherwise. The biking community is full of incredible individuals, so many of whom are generous and giving. One example is the “America’s 9/11” ride, which I learned about through fellow riders. It started after 9/11 with just a few bikers, and now it’s grown into a massive foundation that supports victims of 9/11 and their families.
The ride itself is an incredible experience. It starts in Gettysburg, and over four days, we visit all the crash sites. Last year, I even found myself televised on the news with the rest of the group, sharing the story of what we do. All of this — being part of something meaningful and connecting with amazing people — is thanks to having a motorcycle.
For me, riding is so much more than a hobby. It’s a way of life, a form of therapy, and a connection to a community that I’m proud to be part of. It’s hard to imagine my life without it.
Interview by Gregory Andrus
Portraits of the Jersey Shore
