Springer and I are members of an exclusive club. For the sake of every parent, I'm glad it's exclusive.

We lost our only son back in '07, hit by a car while riding his bike, right in front of our house. He was 16 and was a human being that the world would have been much, much better for keeping.

It started with not being able to sleep. Walking the halls, in front of the TV, the computer. Then my memory started failing to the point where I could not remember what day or time it was, details of my past, or something said to me just one minute before.

The parental alarm bell would not shut off. The panic one feels when his child is in danger became a full time reality. I couldn't shut it off or block it out. The hopelessness and helplessness cannot be described. The mind can only accept so much and when the unacceptable happens, when an overload of irreconcilable conflict crash lands in your skull, a system crash follows.

I lost my job. Time flowed by in a bizarre and meaningless stream of exhaustion and feeling gut sick. I didn't want to leave the house. I was AFRAID to leave the house, to not be at home. It was not fear of the outside world, it was fear of something bad happening while I was gone. I didn't work for 5 years because my head was a scrambled mess of anger and grieving.

I don't know what year we bought the Sportster. I needed distraction. I wanted to ride, to be feeling that sensation of wingless flight that only riding can bring, to those of us who have tasted it. I doubt there was any bike better suited to what I needed at that time than that 99 Sport. It gave me a needed touchstone, a waiting gateway to the only activity that took my attention away from the pain.

The power, the raw acceleration, the feeling of the chassis and tires putting it all down to the asphalt and propelling me to flight speed, becoming one with it all as the road twisted by. This was the distraction, the medication, the symbiotic partner who blew the acrid smoke of horror off my brain, if only for a short time each day. This was therapeutic.

Other bikes have come and gone since then. I have a good job now, with a good company, with thanks to a close friend. That too has forced me to exercise faculties that had been essentially wrecked and bend them back into some semblance of functionality. Now I've come round again to buy another Harley, this time one that can carry my wife and I to pleasant destinations, rolling down beautiful vistas. Along with dears friends, or by ourselves, the results are the same; for a time, we focus on something else and that helps us get to the next hour, the next day.

A Harley does something no other bike can do; it feels alive, like an animal beneath you, one who is strong and willing to run as far as you want to go towards that horizon. It is a distraction in and of itself and, in a strange way, you feel less alone when your on a Harley.

As for Springer and I, I'm guessing that this will probably be a way of life for us both. Have to get to that finish line somehow.

 

briansteuber, I sent a similar but slightly shorter message to HD earlier this year after taking advantage of their free Riding School training for .mil folks this year. I'm pretty damned sure that it saved me from my own issues for various reasons. I'm not sharing that message here, but below are my thoughts for longrideshields -1.

I'm a disabled Iraq veteran that returned home altered, both mentally and physically. I have the good fortune of being married to a nurse, so I have that going for me. She has the smarts to see how much throttle and wind therapy does for me, and how it gives me a chance to outrun my personal demons, even if it is temporary. It's better than being a gimpy potato sitting on the couch. She has no issues letting me roll 7 days a week, as it relaxes and and apparently makes me a hell of a lot easier to be around. God bless her.

I log close to 1k miles a week, as I use the bike for my primary means of transportation. I use my hour+ ride to work and then home to clear my head of everything except the road. No room for anything else, and on the back roads and less traveled highways, I find peace and my zen moments.

I have suffered from a lack of friends since 2008, and riding with a group of fellow vets fills a void for me. I currently enjoy rolling with the ALR, but put in an app for the CVA 6 weeks ago, and am waiting on them to finish their vetting process.

Yeah, it helps.

 

Motorcycles have been the greatest medicine for helping with PTSD. Everything the VA gave me made me feel like a zombie and actually think made me feel worse. I don't take any medication except to sleep. My Harley is my therapy.

Iraq 2003-2004. QRF patrolling MSR Tampa and MSR Jackson from Camp Cedar to Camp Anaconda. Every now and then some missions from Taji westbound to Fallujah.

 

Wind Therapy Over Psychotherapy

Thought Everyone Knew This

Haole

 

Two fists in the wind and a full tank of gas and life is more manageable, even if only temporarily.

 

PTSD is not strictly combat related. I'm sorry for your loss, and glad riding helps you out!

 

It helps me

Danny

 

First of all, I want to thank everybody who currently is, was in the service and posted here. Thank you for protecting our country and our freedom.


Yes, I have several psychological issues myself. Used to depend on medicine and popping them for several years until I went through a very bitter divorce that nearly put me in Jail for a long time. Until then I realized that medicine don't do me any squat and quit them cold turkey.


Like every one of you...Throttle Therapy or Wind Therapy is my best medicine ever since 2002.


Another is...My GF, Linda came into my life and reassured that I'm free to go at any moment when I want to ride whether it's a day trip or vacation trip which is a BIG Plus. She took MSF course, passed, doesn't ride on her own and just wanted to understand why I love riding. I always made sure to include her if she wants to ride with me. We've been blessed together for the last 12 years.


Only thing I currently suffer is PMS during the winters annually...Parked Motorcycle Syndrome, LOL.


Thorey

 

I was diagnosed as having PTSD and OCD, from multiple experiences including a tour in the Army and not the least of which was from losing my father to a horrific home-invasion. Head-shrink therapy helps and I highly recommend it to anyone on the fence about seeking help (try to find a counselor with experience with what you have). I eventually reached a point where I had to learn to cope and live with both my hard-wiring and life experiences (and I didn't want to be drugged out for the rest of my life).

I have found that motorcycle riding does help, even to this day, many years later - and like many vets started riding heavily after the service. I found this "therapy" especially helpful when riding challenging curvy roads that traverse around the Appalachian mountains here in Pennsylvania. I am sure many of you can relate to this experience and euphoric feeling no matter where you live and ride. If I had to explain the feelings to someone that never rode before, I would say its because its somewhat dangerous, raises your endorphins, your surrounded by beautiful countryside, and while riding your unencumbered by "the chains we forge in life" and those others make us wear.