By Steve Swanson

It has been more than 14 years since Father’s Day weekend 2005, when I first took the reins of a brand new 2006 BMW K1200R, the first of that model delivered in Kansas City.

As his Father’s Day present to me that year, my then-25-year-old son, Eric, suggested we ride my 2000 BMW K1200LT on a tour of Kansas City’s motorcycle dealerships, starting with his choice, our local Ducati shop.

I knew, of course, that this whole process was to look for a bike for him. Having sold his Honda CBR600RR a few years earlier, he’d been jonesing for a replacement for some time. But, without his own ride at that moment, Eric sat pillion on my BMW “motorhome” as we visited each brand of dealership throughout the metro, identifying several possible rides that might suit his fancy.

When we finally arrived at Engle Motors, our local BMW/Triumph dealer and last stop that Saturday, all it took was one look at the silver-on-black rocket ship that BMW had just introduced and I was hooked.

In the blink of an eye—and certainly without consideration of any home-front consequences—I signed on the dotted line, and soon after Eric was riding the K1200R home on my behalf, most likely wishing it was his and thinking this was not the outcome he had hoped for that weekend.

The thought of this thoroughly selfish decision on my part still makes me wince a bit.

The K1200LT was sold off, just months after bringing the K1200R home. Eric bought and subsequently sold his own Kawasaki ZX10R after moving with his wife to Washington state.

On recent two-up long-distance ride to Montana, I unexpectedly came into possession of a used ’03 Harley Davidson Ultra Classic Anniversary Edition from a friend who simply wanted to off-load an extra motorcycle he had in his garage.

All the while, though, I continued to put mile-after-mile on my little K1200R speedster, with trips to the Northwest corner of Arkansas (some of the best riding in the country), to Barber Motorsport Museum in Birmingham, Ala., to southern Virginia to see my daughter, Heidi, and loop back home over 320 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway, the Tail of the Dragon and the Cherohala Skyway and many, many more—some 49,000-plus miles, all told, through the spring of 2019.

What a great bike the K1200R had been for all those years, fast and nimble with a fairly low cost of ownership, at least by BMW standards.

But, as time marched on and my body aged, I was slowly losing the ability to stay comfortable on the “K” much longer than an hour at a time. Yet I could straddle the Harley for the full 200 miles its fuel tank would accommodate, proven out by the 2,400-mile trip to Montana and back my wife, Patty, and I took in September 2017 (“Montana or Bust: Trial by Fire,” American Motorcyclist, October 2018).

So, in early 2018, I quietly started laying plans to hand the reins of the K1200R over to Eric. And what more natural way of doing so than by a long-distance trip from Kansas City to his home in Lynden, Wash., with Eric riding the “K” and me on the Harley.

Unfortunately, God had other plans for us both that year, and the trip was postponed until 2019, which happened to more appropriately align with Eric’s 40th birthday.

What a great birthday present!

We finally locked in the dates—July 18-28—started assembling necessary gear and planned reasonable destinations for each night of the ride.

By July 1, all our plans were formalized, and we were in the middle of the final countdown. Eric was to arrive late Wednesday evening, July 17, via nonstop flight from Seattle with his helmet and the seat bag I had previously shipped him pre-packed and ready to saddle up on the 18th. All other gear had been shipped to my house, awaiting his arrival.

Once again, though, God had one more curve ball to hurl our way. Eric was suddenly advised he may be sent on an urgent, month-long assignment just before the start of our ride. He spent the better part of his weekend prior to our trip working through the mix up and getting final approval for his vacation.

July 17 finally arrived, and Eric landed in Kansas City, immediately putting into motion his preparations for our next-day departure. I had been packing and prepping for the past week, so was able to help get us both off as scheduled.

Setting out mid-afternoon on the 18th, we headed north from Kansas City to and across South Dakota, into Wyoming, up through Montana, northern Idaho and across Washington State, arriving at Eric’s home on July 23.

Along the way we visited the Corn Palace, The Badlands, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore and Deadwood. We rode Spearfish Canyon and the Beartooth Pass into Yellowstone National Park, while big horn sheep and bison crossed our paths.

We stayed with my older brother, David, and his family in Livingston, Mont., circumnavigated Coeur d’Alene Lake in Idaho and rode state Route 20 over the Cascades of Washington state.

We ate pizza and elk, eggs and pastrami, cake and more pizza.

Though we planned and packed to camp each night, we instead enjoyed the luxury of hot showers and clean sheets.

All-in-all, a darn good run, covering just over 2,200 miles in 5 1/2 days.

Yet, when I awoke that Wednesday morning, July 24, after a lovely evening with my son and his family, I was gripped by a level of anxiety I hadn’t expected.

How could I just turn around and head home without spending some quality time with my 5-year-old grandson, Brayden, whom I hadn’t seen in more than a year? They grow so darn fast! In a last-minute decision, my return home to Kansas City was delayed by a day. So, while Alicia went to work, Eric, Brayden and I painted Bellingham, Wash., red, stopping for lunch at Sonic, spending an hour at the trampoline park and finally dropping by the local BMW shop in Ferndale to ogle some newer hardware.

After a great home-cooked dinner and an added night’s rest, I left Eric and his little family with their newly acquired 2006 BMW K1200R July 25, around 8 a.m. and headed toward Kansas City.

My original plan was to follow a more southerly route through Utah, Colorado and Kansas, but, due to the extra day with family, I was forced to retrace our original route, the shortest possible distance home, only switching up state Route 20 for U.S. 2 across central Washington state to further speed my return.

This change in my routing also allowed me one more chance to spend time with my brother, David, and his family and an opportunity to attend one of his many art showings in downtown Livingston, Mont., as well as a local rodeo outside of town that evening.

I needed to make up 400 miles in my bid to arrive home at anything approaching a reasonable hour on Sunday. Departing bright and early from my brother’s home Saturday morning, July 27, I pushed through from Livingston all the way to Sioux Falls, S.D., right at 800 miles that day.

This allowed me a leisurely 374-mile ride home on Sunday, pulling up to the garage at 2:15 p.m., as planned. It was a total round trip of 4,300 miles and change.

I must admit, since my return home, my heart has occasionally been wrapped in melancholy.

Melancholy for the fact our momentous ride, “Eric & Dad’s Big Adventure,” as it grew to be called, was over. Melancholy for the distance between my son, his family and my life in Kansas City. And melancholy, certainly, for leaving such a good friend as my BMW K1200R behind, though I have every confidence that those reins are in capable and caring hands.

Keep the rubber side down, my boy, and “Happy 40th Birthday!”

Steve Swanson is an AMA member from Independence, Mo.