Kelly’s Korner: What’s in a name? Maybe Everything….
Last Updated: December 1st, 2020
Every rider wants a unique bike, one that stands out from everyone else’s. That’s why we personalize our rides with accessories, add and remove parts, repaint.
I also tend to name my motorcycles.
I name a lot of the things—the important ones, anyway. There was Slim Shady, the skinny, leaf-deficient tree. He died. There’s Little Car. There’s the Caven Haven, for our house. Naming objects may seem silly but I like doing it. The act of naming creates a bond, makes me laugh and, of course, expresses affection. And, dammit, I love my bikes.
My first bike, a Ninja 650R, spent our first two years together nameless. Nothing felt right for her (because, yes, that’s right, my motorcycles also embody gender). That is, nothing felt right for her until I was cruising up Highway 89 on my way to Boise, alone. Somewhere around the Cameron Trading Post and those volcanic sand mounds that look like they fell off the moon, my bike’s name, “Sojourner,” hit me. Sojo my Ninja became. And Sojo she left me when I at last let her go for a dirt bike…which I now call “Sojo 2.” Lazy nomenclature? Maybe. Or perhaps a fitting homage to my first bike, the one on which I found new freedoms and joys, faced fears I didn’t know I had. A first bike feels much like first love. And similar to first love, we’ll probably outgrow that first bike, no matter the tenderness and appreciation we feel for it. For me, Sojo 2, a slow, underpowered Honda CRF 230, magnifies the spirit of Sojo, just in different form, in the different kinds of places we can go to together and in different ways.
I must admit, though, that I did not name my Triumph. My friend Bill came away with that honor. The Street Triple R, clearly a dude, rode home with me in March 2010. I think he remained without a moniker for about a year, until Bill suggested “Hinckley”—for the British city where the Triumph houses its factory, not for a wanna-be presidential assassin (yes, you’ve read that from me before). I liked it. I went with it. And like the city itself, my Hinckley is a bit of a rebel; he and I bring that out in each other.
The motorcycle naming process tends to take me a while. I have to glean a sense of the machine’s personality and for our possibilities together as rider and bike. In essence, that makes a motorcycle the representation of my best intentions: to nurture meaningful bonds; to discover new facets of myself; to pursue adventure; to seek perspective; to defy expectations; to go through life self-sufficient but not alone.
Tell me if you have a love in your life. What have you named your favorite ride?
