Bikerless biker

A few years ago I was watching that show where that family builds custom motorcycles together.
The episode I watched featured a contest for viewers to win a chopper. The viewers sent in videos of their appeals to be picked.
The winner was a guy who said he was really into the biker lifestyle. He had biker clothes and tattoos and went to rallies and other biker events. He was a biker, he said, without a bike. That comment drew a laugh from me. Daddy biker dude commented, “That guy is cool.” They gave him a custom chopper.
I’m starting to identify with that guy.
I’ve got helmets, gloves, tailor-made riding suit, boots, specialized tools and other assorted biker paraphernalia. I get motorcycle magazines and catalogs monthly in the mail. I belong to a couple of motorcycle owners groups on the Internet.
What I don’t have is a bike.
I sold my bike a few months ago to fund a personal project.
While the money I got for it was well spent, I am really, really missing having a bike. I had motorcycles when I was younger, then went a few years and got back into riding when I was about 42. For more than a decade I’ve had a motorcycle tucked into my carport. Sometimes two.
For a while I published a motorcycle magazine. My newspaper columns have frequently been about motorcycling.  I taught motorcycle riding classes for about six years.
I no longer have the option of taking the bike to work when the weather is nice, or if the truck is in the garage for repairs. Or taking weekend camping trips with my biker buddies.
It’s a lonely feeling.
At some point I’ll get another. I’ve got other things making demands on my time and money right now.
In the meantime, I have to make do with combing the classified ads and manufacturers’ websites, checking out what’s available, and occasionally thinking, “That bike is for me.”
I wonder when the biker-dude family is having another contest?