The Emotional Landscape of Buying and Selling Motorcycles
Buying and selling motorcycles is far more than a transactional process; it is an emotional journey shaped by anticipation, nostalgia, pride, and sometimes a quiet sense of loss. Motorcycles occupy a unique space in the lives of their owners—part machine, part companion—and the act of acquiring or parting with one often reveals personal stories, aspirations, and memories that stretch far beyond the metal itself.
The emotions begin long before the purchase. For many, the desire to buy a motorcycle takes root in curiosity or longing: the dream of freedom, the allure of a specific model, or the excitement of stepping into a new chapter of life. Researching bikes, comparing specs, watching reviews, and scrolling through listings create a sense of growing anticipation. This buildup is as emotional as it is practical. A rider imagines the feel of the bike beneath them, the sound of the engine, and the rides that await. When a prospective motorcycle is finally viewed in person, there is often a moment of quiet recognition—either it speaks to the rider, or it doesn’t. The heart plays as large a role as the mind.
The act of buying itself carries its own emotional weight. There is the thrill of the first test ride, that brief but powerful connection where rider and machine begin to understand each other. Closing the deal—handing over the money, receiving the keys—brings a mixture of triumph and responsibility. A new motorcycle is not just a purchase; it is a promise. It represents freedom, adventure, and the unspoken agreement that the rider will care for it, maintain it, and create memories with it. Rolling away for the first time, the rider often feels a surge of pride and possibility, wrapped in the hum of a new engine.
Selling a motorcycle, however, is a different emotional terrain. It often begins with ambivalence. Riders rarely part with a bike without reason: a change in life circumstances, a need for something different, or the simple reality that the motorcycle isn’t being used as it once was. Before listing it, many owners clean their bikes with unusual care, aware that they are preparing a companion for someone else. This act alone can stir memories—first rides, long trips, shared moments of exhilaration and challenge.
Meeting the buyer brings another layer of emotion. Sellers hope the new owner will appreciate the bike, treat it well, and understand its quirks and strengths. There is a subtle, almost parental impulse to ensure the motorcycle will continue to be loved. When the bike ultimately leaves—its engine fading into the distance—the seller may feel a pang of loss, as if a chapter has quietly closed.
Yet these emotions are not negative; they reflect how deeply motorcycles become woven into the fabric of a rider’s identity. Buying brings excitement and new possibilities; selling brings reflection and closure. Together, these experiences remind riders that motorcycles are more than machines—they are milestones, storytellers, and symbols of life lived in motion.


Many many moons ago, my 916SP, the first one down under, this was taken when running it in, so it was only a day old.
My old mate Paul, couldn't resist it, he had to take it for a ride.
My other happy place. Turangi The Creel.
What a barn find.
My man cave that I built 16 years ago in Wellington. Miss this place that's for sure.


Harvey Mushman.











































































































































