On January 7th, 2024, a wonderful woman named Noelle sold me my very first Harley-Davidson — a 2023 Heritage Classic with the 114ci Milwaukee-Eight engine (that's a whopping 1,870cc for you metric folks).
Coming off my Honda Rebel 500 (471cc and just 419 lbs), this thing felt like a whole different universe. Four times the engine size and over 300 pounds heavier. I had a lot to learn.
I started rambling the moment I walked in (shocking, I know). I told Noelle about my limited experience and my big dreams of traveling the country. She listened patiently — really listened — never interrupting. Pure patience.
After hearing what I wanted, she recommended I test ride at least three bikes. In hindsight, that moment is exactly why she's still my go-to Fit Specialist to this day. As long as she's at the shop, I won't buy a Harley from anyone else.
She suggested a Heritage Classic 114 (it checked all my boxes and was a solid "beginner" big bike), a more aggressive Low Rider variant, and one other I can't even remember now.
We took them out on the little two-mile loop around the dealership. First up was the Heritage. Nice bike — floorboards were new to me, and the controls felt a bit far forward. Then came the Low Rider. We got about 1,000 feet down the road, stopped at the first light, and the test rider asked, "So what do you think?"
I looked him dead in the eye and said with total conviction, "I'm really glad I rode the Heritage first… because if I'd started on this one, I probably wouldn't have wanted to ride anything else. I do not like this at all."
He looked genuinely shocked. Apparently that's not the usual reaction to a Low Rider. He offered to swap me back onto the Heritage. I said yes immediately. At that point, I'm pretty sure he knew I was buying it — even if I hadn't fully admitted it to myself yet.
I sat on the third bike for about ten seconds and said, "Nah, I don't think so." Then I took the Heritage out for one more loop.
(Quick side note: Being 5'7", I asked about moving the foot controls closer. Both Noelle and the test rider giggled and assured me I wouldn't want that in a few days. They were right. We still laugh about it.)
What really stood out was how Noelle actually listened. She could have pushed me toward a Road Glide, Street Glide, or Road King — the bigger-ticket bikes. Instead, she fitted me to the right motorcycle for my skills and goals. That kind of honesty is rare. I've watched too many salespeople try to upsell brand-new riders straight into massive touring bikes.
I rode the Heritage home that night.
A few days of miserable weather followed (of course — I finally get a new bike and the sky decides to punish me). When it finally cleared, I took her out for that first real ride — pumped, excited, and a little terrified. She felt massive underneath me.
Did I buy too much bike too soon? Is this beyond my abilities? Will it always feel this damn big?
The answer to all three was a very confident No. I adapted fast. I followed MotoJitsu®'s White Belt lessons every single day and highly recommend them to any new rider.
On my very first ride I ended up at Duvall Park. Coming back out, I had to make a right turn up a steep, twisty hill. Traffic was heavy, so I decided to go to the light and make a U-turn. I grabbed the front brake on the incline… and over she went.
I tried to muscle her up like I did with the much lighter Rebel. Yeah… that didn't work. 300+ pounds of difference is no joke. I laid her down gently, looked around nervously (thankfully no one saw), picked her up using the technique I'd watched on YouTube "just in case," and rode off like nothing happened.
That drop sent me down a YouTube rabbit hole. Turns out the motorcycle safety course had taught me how to pass the test — but not how to actually handle a big bike at stops. I spent hours in parking lots practicing proper techniques (highly recommend Rob Simmons' "Be The Boss of Your Own Motorcycle" videos, linked above) and my confidence came roaring back.
In February 2024, I took my first real road trip — a four-day loop around the Olympic Peninsula. Up the east side, over to Port Angeles, down to Forks, and out to La Push. I stayed at the quirky little Dew Drop Inn and even checked out their version of the Swan house. That trip sealed it: I was hooked on long-distance riding.
By the end of 2024 I'd put on about 20,000 miles and ridden through Washington, Oregon, California, Idaho, Montana, South Dakota, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Kansas, Arizona, Nevada, and New Mexico. In 2025 I flew to Hawaii and Alaska, rented Harleys there, and knocked those states off the list too. San Diego runs to visit my best friend in Hesperia became regular adventures.
I named her FAE — Fidelis Animus Eternus (Faithful Eternal Spirit). She stayed mostly stock. I removed some chrome, added engine guards and a sissy bar, but otherwise just rode her hard. No loud pipes, no big engine mods — just mile after mile after mile. Turns out miles are the coolest upgrade you can give any bike.
FAE gave me more than just transportation. She gave me peace. Long hauls became the best therapy I've ever found for the PTSD that years of traditional treatment couldn't fully touch.
Early in 2026 I set out on what was supposed to be a full run down the 101 to PCH. I started on the east side of the peninsula, circled up and over, then picked up the 101 proper. After a great night in Oregon, I continued south and made a point of riding the Avenue of the Giants again. Twisting through those massive redwoods felt exactly like flying a speeder bike on Endor — pure magic.
Heading further south onto the Pacific Coast Highway, I hit the twisties with a vengeance. No traffic (I love riding these roads on weekdays), just ripping along… when I heard a loud crack, followed by a thud-thud-thud from underneath. I was in the middle of nowhere with no cell signal. I eased off the throttle, pulled in the clutch, and nursed her to the next safe spot.
Turned out about 8 inches of teeth had ripped off the drive belt. Many others were cracked and loose. I had her hauled back to Grit City Harley in Tacoma for service and the 50k-mile maintenance. Belts were in short supply, so I ended up waiting at home.
While the bike was in the shop, Noelle and I started talking about a Road King I'd been eyeing for months. One thing led to another, and we began the paperwork. Mom, ever the voice of reason, listened to the whole story and simply asked, "Will you ride it?" When I said "Duh," she looked at me and said, "Then go buy the fucking bike."
I grabbed my gear, headed back to the dealership, made one last deal (including a nice gift card for extras), and pulled the trigger.
After 834 days and 48,749 miles, it was time to say goodbye to FAE. She took me so many places and gave me more peace than I thought possible. May her next owner ride her another 50,000 happy miles.
