From what Chuck and Bill, another
brother who also has the illness, tell me, muscular dystrophy is a bastard of a dis- ease. You can be going along the same for quite some time before it strikes and knocks you down a notch. Neither Chuck, nor any adult with MD, knows how many more notches they have left. Eight years ago Bill's doctor told him that he had between two and 20 years before he would be confined to a wheelchair. Today he's still active, at least to some degree. Both he and Chuck have told me that
they feel they're the lucky ones even though they know there is no recovery. They can still get around, but they know there's little or nothing they or the medical field can do. It's insidious. Both have modified their homes for when wheelchairs become a necessity. Five years ago Chuck felt that change in
the cruelest form. He wrote me a painful letter where he described having his RT fall away from under him. He had just pulled into his driveway and was parking the bike. It started to slip and he didn't have the strength to stop it or to pick it up. He wrote
about looking at it on its side from his kitchen window. Looking at it for hours, laying there, needing help, and for the lon- gest time there was none. In that instant Chuck knew his riding days were num- bered. I had tears in my eyes while I read it. Chuck still had miles to ride. There was
at least an alternative, one that he would be able to live with. He found another BMW, by chance of the same color. It was a 2007 K 1200 LT Hannigan trike conversion, a per- fect fit for Chuck. He was in BMW heaven again. On and on he rode. This was to be his ride for three more years. The bike served him well, but it wasn't the old RT. One of my major regrets in life was not purchasing that great bike. I should have kept it in the family. That would have thrilled Chuck, much like when I'd rescued his old 750. He offered it to me, but the time wasn't right. Those who suffer with MD worry about
one thing more than any other—falling. With their limited muscle tone, after falling they need assistance getting back to their feet. For my brothers it's a rather common occurrence. Around their homes they have help, but beyond what is familiar there is
reason for caution and concern, the con- stant realization that being some distance from home might create more problems. Last year all of Chuck's 35,000 miles were in Ohio. Gone was his dream of riding to the west coast, or again to Ross, or even up north for that special smoked trout. The radius of his rides is now tightly tethered to his home. I often wonder how many more— or how few—his will body give him. In time Chuck needed to move on. Today
he rides a 2014 Can-Am Spyder RTS. He rides almost every day, in good weather or poor, allowing for cold streaks in winter. He needs his daily fix. He struggles, but for him there's always tomorrow's ride and hope- fully another the following day. He does what he needs to do, what he has to do. I think that maybe my buying my RT helped a little. He sees in me the joy that being on my BMW makes possible. The same he had on his. To this day, he still talks about his old RT with a sense of reverence.
Ken on his Concours and Chuck on his Can-Am Spyder RTS. February 2016 BMW OWNERS NEWS 75
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