Dear Bonnie,

When we first met at the dealership, when you had just 2,000 miles and a $7,000 price tag, it was love at first sight.

But after 2,000 miles, and $2,000 in repairs on your phantom electrical issue, after getting stranded in Marin, Santa Cruz, missing important meetings, and letting you languish in shops for weeks at a time, I fear it might finally be time to let you go.

November 2015: The Short Honeymoon Phase with My 2010 Triumph Bonneville T100

The only problem is — I can’t.

There’s just too much history that we have together. For instance, you’re the only bike that’s ever cut off while going 70 miles an hour on the freeway with no shoulder. And on the Golden Gate Bridge (a wonder of the world!). And in traffic.

You’re the only bike that my friends know: “Chris can’t come tonight because his motorcycle won’t start again.” “Bonnie?” “Yeah, Bonnie.”

You’re the only bike that plays hard to get (started), even when I lavish you with frequent tune ups, trickle charges, details, and expensive city parking. Remember when I got you those new front and rear brake pads and you were like, “Who needs brakes?! No need to stop if I won’t start!”

You’re so silly!

And of course, there’s the issue of letting you back into the world. How can I have a clear conscience and let you be with someone else? Riding a motorcycle is dangerous enough, let alone riding a bicycle with no pedals on the 101. I can’t put someone else through that.

It doesn’t matter that you’re beautiful.

Most days, I catch myself wondering what it would have been like if I had just chosen a Honda or a Yamaha instead. I chose to be loyal. I took you to Motojava, Simplemoto, and Desmoto, hoping — no, wishing that they could fix our relationship.

Just 4140 miles — maybe one day we will have a few more.

But still you insist on clicking, sputtering, and dying.

Everyone says I should get rid of you, but who cares what everyone says! You come from a good Triumph family, you’re still in tip-top shape, and I know that one day we’ll rekindle the spark that we had for 13 days before you started to stop.

They say that communication is essential in a good relationship. Why won’t you just tell me what’s wrong with you? Were you made like this? Is it something I said or did? I’ll do anything, anything to know.

In the meantime, I can come visit you in the corner of the parking garage, bring you oil, show you old photos of when we used to go place to place together…

Where you spend your time these days. Don’t worry, I’ll come visit.

And maybe, in time, I will come around to accept the sunk cost of my hours and money spent on you, and I’ll sell you for scrap and never buy a Triumph motorcycle again.

In time.

Yours Sincerely and Illogically,

Chris

PS. If anyone reading this letter of love and loss has been in a similar situation with their 2010 Fuel Injected Triumph Bonneville T100, please let me know: christopherreidsf@gmail.com. Here is a list of grievances: