I’m a second generation motorcycle rider. Growing up my dad always had a motorcycle; at one point he even had 4. Mom and I would take turns riding with him most weekends running errands, visiting family, and sometimes just going out for ice cream. We joined a local motorcycle club when I was 12, so our rides became more frequent. In the organization, we were Chapter Z or by those who knew us, the Zaniacs. We would ride out to other chapter meetings, go on poker runs to raise money for local charities, ride in parades… It was an amazing feeling to belong to this amazing group of people who loved riding just as much as we did.