Vancouver is home to Canada’s only Eagle Rider branch, with the vast majority of its clients flying in from France, Italy, Brazil and Germany. BC’s epic mountain landscape, excellent roads, summer weather and cool roadside attractions are globally attractive. I invite you to dispel your stereotypes of intimidating bearded riders, tattoos, chains and gangsters. Riding a Harley on the open road is more accurately the dream of doctors, lawyers and accountants. It’s the dream of business professionals, teachers, retirees and creatives. It’s the dream of writers who write Bucket List columns.

My last hog was a 49cc scooter that got mangled in an accident, breaking my kneecap and kicking off my travel writing career. Although my bike experience is limited at best, this time I’m going for a 1746cc, 6-speed classic Road King, with a 64-inch wheel base, Milwaukee-Eight 107 engine, dual chrome exhaust and 111-ft-lb engine torque. I don’t know what most of that means, but it sounds powerful, impressive and scary. Just looking at the machine, I could feel my goatee growing in real time. Harleys are easy to ride, forgiving on the clutch, reliably stable, and continue to inspire illusions (or in my case delusions) of outlaw rebellion, born to be wild.

Destination BC has curated various motorcycle routes across the province, rolling riders through some of the best scenery in the country. The roads are curvaceous, well-maintained and welcoming. I reassure my wife that most risks can be mitigated by riding in a group, taking it easy around corners, wearing protective gear, and generally not acting like a twenty-year old idiot piloting a rocket ship beyond their talent level.   Recognizing I have no biking talent, I inserted myself in an experienced group of riders, biking in staggered formation, owning the road.  Nobody is overtaking eight bikes on a highway unless we want them too, and if a bike does break down – as happened with an unfortunate Honda Shadow in our group – others are quickly on-hand to assist with tools, jokes, opinions, and ultimately, a seat on the back. On Highway 97S, the Road King hums and purrs as the skies turn dark. I hear thunder over my engine and the storm pounds my leather armour. The baptism is over within a few miles, sunshine prevails, a rainbow pops, and it feels just so, so good to be alive.