Another interstate conquest will have to wait until later this year, but in the meantime I’ve got to maintain my love affair with motorcycles–not that it’s difficult. In recent weeks, I’ve found fascination in a game of Bay Area photo tagging. The premise: One guy takes a photo of his bike in front of a notable landmark or otherwise memorable spot and challenges other motorcyclists to match the photograph with their own bikes.

For many riders, a Ninja 250 is the bottom rung of a sport bike ladder, a necessary first step in pursuit of high horsepower race replicas. I can’t begin to recount the myriad times I’ve been asked about getting a bigger bike, generally with the suggestion, express or implied, that I’m ready for a 600cc super sport. With over 17,000 miles behind the bars of my mighty 250, I’ve no apprehensions about moving up. But I’d rather branch out.

I’ve got a great friend that’s soon taking the plunge into motorcycling and I feel a responsibility to share my wisdom–a full year of it–to prepare him for the mean streets. There are some things that everyone tells you that are totally true and I’ll reiterate some of them, but there are a lot of things that no one told me that would’ve been nice to know beforehand.

On March 16, 2008 I completed the Motorcycle Safety Foundation’s Basic RiderCourse. I had never ridden a motorcycle before the course, but passed the final test missing only a few points for crossing the boundary of the U-turn box. On March 17, 2008, I endeavored to ride my sparkling new 2008 Ninja 250 home from the dealership.

Rumor has it, the new Ninja 250 is a bit popular and demand has driven dealer asking prices stupid. A shame, as at MSRP plus tax and reasonable dealer fees the bike is a great bargain. Prospective buyers are rightfully concerned by the ballooning prices and question if the bike’s worth it. I can’t speak for everyone’s case, but this is my take on the sour subject.

My dad tried to get me into dirt bikes as a kid. He once asked me to kickstart his 500–my foot slipped off the kickstarter, it whipped up and tore into the back of my heel. Another time, a family friend rode over on his manual-shift ATV and my dad tried to get me to operate the clutch–I ended up flipping the quad (with my dad and me on it) and bending the handlebars out of shape. And I remember my dad frequently urging me to save up for a dirt bike of my own, but I was, as a kid, more interested in PlayStation and Jet Moto was a good enough approximation.

No one expected me to upgrade to a turbobrick when I drove a hand-me-down Volvo 240GL, but it seems everyone is waiting for me to toss out my 250cc Ninja and grow up to a 600cc supersport, which will in years become useless and necessarily replaced by a literbike, a ‘Busa, preferably turbocharged.