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Back in college, I worked full-time to pay for my tuition and books, my apartment, and everything else life charges you (food, clothes, cupcakes). My daily commute from the University of Washington to my job in Seattle’s industrial area did not allow much time between classes and work to worry about finding (or paying for) parking. Until then I would bicycle commute about 20 miles round trip, which wasn’t that fast (or pleasant behind semi-trucks for roughly half of the trip). So, I did the only logical thing: I signed up for motorcycle school, a one-day intensive training. Then, I … Keep goin’
