I went for my first ride on the back of a Triumph on a dirt road on my grandmother’s farm. It felt like flying, still does.

I’ve always been a gearhead—a mechanical type of guy. My first job was building stealth fighters. Of course, I can afford bikes and cars, and I can’t afford a fighter plane—they go for a few hundred million each, and even with zero percent financing, the payments are pretty steep. There’s nothing as quick or fast as a sport bike for less than a hundred grand.

The difference, generally speaking, between sport-bike people and cruiser people is that sport-bike people like performance skill and wear safety gear; cruisers like chrome, noise, and style. It’s funny to me to separate them because I ride both. I prefer performance cruisers like the Honda Valkyrie I had or my Triumph Rocket III.

I’ve seen sport-bike guys who can’t ride and cruiser guys who can. The funniest experience is when I’m on a Ducati in the morning and the sport-bike guys wave. Then I’m on the Triumph in the afternoon and the cruiser guys wave. The Harley guys are consistent—they never wave at all.

Racers are a different breed; they crash and go fas-ter. They are also young and heal faster.

I once read you should never try to go fast in a slow corner, then I learned that’s pretty damn good advice. I was exiting Turn 2 at Buttonwillow; it’s a slow double apex right-hander. There was too much throttle coming out, and when I let off I high-sided. You know, it’s funny how things slow down when you’re airborne. I knew the landing would hurt ... and I was right.

There’s no a stigma against women who ride in my world, unless stigma means “hella sexy.”

If you think a hottie is sexy in chaps, you should see one in racing leathers unzipped about halfway. And don’t get me started on umbrella girls...