Alright, let’s talk about that Kawasaki 750 sport bike. For the longest time, that machine was all I could think about. A real screamer, you know? The kind of bike that just looks fast standing still. I was absolutely convinced I was going to get one.
My whole process started pretty innocently. I’d see one on the street, or in a magazine, and that little seed got planted. Then, I really started digging in. I mean, I was obsessed. Hours spent online, reading every forum post, every review. I knew the specs by heart, the different model years, the common little quirks. It was like I was studying for a final exam on Kawasaki 750s.
The Big Plan
I even started a dedicated savings jar, no joke. Every bit of spare cash went in there. I told myself, “This is for the Kawi.” My buddies, they all knew. “He’s getting the 750,” they’d say. I was already picturing myself on it, carving up some nice empty roads. The whole nine yards.
My practical steps, if you can call ’em that, were pretty thorough in my head:
- First, I’d get my advanced riding license sorted. Had to be sharp for that kind of power.
- Then, I’d clear out a prime spot in the garage. My old push mower was gonna get evicted, for sure.
- And finally, the glorious day of walking into the dealership, cash (or a very large check) in hand.
I even went and sat on one at a local shop. Just to feel it. The weight, the position. Man, it felt right. Or so I thought at the time.
Then Real Life Happened
So, I was getting close. Real close to having enough saved. I was already browsing used listings, figuring out insurance quotes – the works. And then, completely out of left field, my old dog, Buster, got real sick. He was an old fella, been with me for over a decade. Vet bills started piling up, one after another. It was rough, seeing him like that, and honestly, the money just started flying out the window. Trying to make him comfortable, you know?
The Kawasaki fund? Yeah, that got raided pretty quick. And you know what? I didn’t even hesitate. That bike, which had been my whole focus, suddenly seemed… well, not that important. All that planning, all that saving, it just shifted. My “practice” for owning a super-fast sport bike turned into practicing how to care for a sick old friend.
Buster, he eventually pulled through, mostly. He was never quite the same, but he was still with us for another year. And during that time, my whole perspective on what I wanted, what I needed, kind of changed. The idea of a screaming 750cc sport bike just didn’t have the same shine. It felt a bit… much. A bit too focused on just me.
I never did get that Kawasaki 750. I ended up getting a much more sensible, comfortable bike a while later. Something I could actually use for longer trips, maybe even take a passenger on without them hating me. It’s funny, I put so much energy into planning for that sport bike, went through all the motions in my head. And in the end, life just had a different plan. And you know what? I’m okay with that. Learned a bit about priorities, I guess. That Kawasaki dream, it served its purpose. It got me thinking, got me saving, but the real lesson came from somewhere else entirely.
