Apologies if this is either long-winded or disjointed, but I want to talk this out, and I know you folks will understand. We sold Miz Cognito's Ninjette (Ninja 250) today. The sad part is that I'm reasonably sure she won't get another bike. She started riding on her own determination a few years after we got married. Did it right: Took the MSF course, started small (Nighthawk 250). Got and wore good gear. Pretty much a natural: Attentive, learned the right skills and avoided most of the bad habits. Put a reasonable number of miles on that bike. Wanted to go farther afield. Found a leftover Yamaha Seca 600. For a 4-cylinder bike, it was docile as a kitten, but it had enough oomph to manage highway speed easily. Slightly taller windscreen, set of GiVi bags, and an RKA tank bag, and she was GTG. And go we did. Summertime, wintertime, no biggie. Rain? Fuggetit. Keep going. Cold? Where's the snowmobile suit? Then, in 2002, she developed a neurologic condition that sapped the strength in her left leg. After some deliberation, she decided to sell her beloved Seca. It went to the SO of a friend. Didn't make it any easier to drive away from the sale. But, she knew/hoped that at some point in the future... It really wasn't a topic of discussion. I never stopped riding, and she was (and is) the best pillion companion I've ever had. Doesn't hurt that she's small and light, I joke that she has no more influence on the handling of the bike than saddlebags. But then, out of the clear blue, she sends me a picture of herself on a Kawasaki ER6-n. WTF? That starts the search, and this gorgeous low mile 2012 Ninjette presents itself. A deal was made and it came home. Did I mention that Miz Cognito is smart? We did several range sessions in a shopping center lot so she could refamiliarize herself with stopping, starting, weaving, etc, before we got back out on solo rides. It was "just like riding a bike." Her condition limits how hot it can be when she rides, so summer 2012 was limited to early day rides. We were all set for a great fall of riding, when I suffered an acute attack of the dumba**. I went out to test a repair on my '75 BMW, which (in case you weren't around the) did not have a sidestand interlock. Story somewhat shortened, I ended up in the front yard of a house <1/2 mile away with a broken collarbone, broken ribs, and a collapsed lung (@ 40 MPH, BTW). So, I managed to f-up our 2012 riding season. There were a few practice trips to the "range" the next year. Unfortunately, her condition is both variable and progressive. The left leg is now pretty good, but the right leg is feeble-ish, and her balance has begun to suffer, taking her confidence with it. As a result, the bike never again saw the open road under her control. She would test-sit it from time to time, to see if she could get on and off and pick it up from the sidestand, but that's it. At some point, she started talking about selling it. TBH, I soft-pedaled that effort, hoping that some combination of nerve, strength, and balance would return, and she could at least go back to the parking lot to practice, and then head out onto the country roads, but... We put it up for sale last year, but other than the nonsense responses of the ad, only one person actually looked at it. The ad lapsed, and we didn't renew it. But a couple days ago, knowing that this was prime-time to try to sell, with decent weather and people getting back outside, we posted the ad again. Our relative good fortune found a buyer in the second person to respond to the ad (if you want to doubt people's goodness, post a motorcycle on Craigslist). She couldn't look at it when she left for work this morning, or when I had to swing by her office with it on the trailer to get her signature on some paperwork. It's going to a good home, as a first-ish bike for a 19 year old. A good home with six other motorcycles owned by his dad (Ducati enthusiast), brother and stepbrother. We know she'll be ridden, enjoyed, and well-maintained. I still couldn't watch the dad ride away. Breaks my heart.