Kevin got his driver's license in August of 1979 when he was 16 years old. About that time, I purchased a brand new 1979 Suzuki 850 and Kevin inherited my old 1977 Honda 750. He made payments from money he made doing odd jobs.

Kevin had been riding dirt bikes since he was about 9 years old so he new the basic mechanics of riding a motorcycle. He also attended a driver training course and new the rules of the road. Street bikes, however, offer a whole new set of problems - they are heavy, they go very fast, and unlike a dirt bike when you crash you're going to get hurt or killed.

Kevin and I spend many weekends in the parking lots of McClellan AFB in Sacramento. They offered acres and acres of asphalt to practice in. We laid out obstacle courses for him to maneuver. I would also have him drive by at some predetermined speed and raise my hand as a signal to stop as quickly as possible. It wasn't long before he was a much better rider than I'd ever be.

I enjoyed our training sessions and Kevin seemed to as well. We always packed a cooler with soft drinks and some snacks. During the breaks in action, we'd sit in the shade and discuss what we were doing and how to handle different situations that might come up when riding a motorcycle. These conversations often drifted off to other topics and we each got to know each other a little better. I have fond memories of sitting in the shade talking with him.