9-10 as soon as I found out ya didn't need to petal them.me and a friend saved are paper route money and bough a Cushman scooter tore it apart and made a three wheeled wonder THAT WAS FIRST of many to follow

somewhere in the age between 6-9. my sister had one cool boyfriend (and i mean one the rest are losers/arseholes like her hubby) anyway he had a spree and would take me around on rides around the block. the wind,leans,and freedom. it was at that moment i was hooked

nope I dont remember when but Im sure glad I did

I was about 7 or 8. My uncle put me on his bike with one of those big old style metal helmets on that kept falling over my eyes. I spent the next 30 years listening to everyone tell me I'd kill myself if I got one and forbidding me to get one, until I finally thought I have to die from something. Now I ride every chance I get, and I mean every chance.

I have always wanted to ride but my Roadstar was my first bike and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I used to shoe horses for a living. It was the middle of winter when a horse reared up and, as I was walking away, flipped right over and landed on top of me. I was alone and don't know how long I was lying there in the snow, but suffice it to say that when I went into the hospital they weren't overly confident I would be walking out.
It took some time, but I did walk out, with the aid of a cane. To do something different and exciting with the kids we went shopping for a quad to help with some of the farm work. Sitting in that bike shop was the bike you see in my pic below. I couldn't even get my leg over it at the time to sit on it but I knew I had to have it so money went down on it. By spring I was riding and haven't turned back.
I tell everyone my bike is the only woman that has never let me down, but she is also a physcologist, a healer, and a good friend, that has seen me through thick and thin. Don't know where I would be today without her which you will see if you read my blog

When I was about 5, one of the kids on my block got a mini bike with a Briggs and Stratton engine. I thought it was the coolest thing ever, then a year later, my father got a Honda Trail 90. Four speed with no clutch and yes, butt ugly, but it was a tank and I loved going on rides with him. We had a motorcycle rack that hung off the front bumper of our camper and we took the bike with us everywhere... Lake Tahoe, Yosemite, Morro Bay, etc. When I was 13 and we were on vacation in Yosemite, he finally let me ride it, and that was that. 9 bikes and 30 years later and I ride nearly every day when I can, even if it's just to run to the store or across town. Sadly, my father passed when I was 19, but my memories of riding with him are still some of my favorite. I only wish he were still here today to ride with me.

I think it was from birth. I can still remember being to small to ride on the back of my dads bike so he would ride me around on the gas tank. His friends thought it was the coolest thing, and so did I. True story.

I remember my brother and I both riding in the trunk area of my dad's Cushman scooter. (HAD to be the early 60's. Neither of us could get one foot in there now.) Then in 1970 a cousin let me ride his Kaw on/off road bike. Then there were a couple of other bikes including a CB400F that I mistreated. But I never really got the fever until I was 17 and rode a Shovelhead Superglide for the first time. It wasn't that fast but the torque got my attention and I was hooked. Took me 30 more years of H-D's to find my Roadie and get that feeling again.

Back in 56 or 57 Dad announced that he had heard the there was a gypsy tour traveling through town ( Tyrone Pa) the next Sunday. We sat on the front porch and watched them pass by. Mostly HDs. They camped a few miles south at the site of an old board race track in Tipton. We went there and they let me sit on some bikes and we stayed till Mom got tired of it. That planted the seed. Dad always wanted a bike but could never afford the luxury. When I turned 16 he talked Mom into letting me buy a bike. I bought a shiny new 66 HD M50. Not the girly one with the step through but the one that looked like a real bike. Had one ever since , with a 4 year break while serving with Uncle Sam. Now at 61 I still eat and breath M/Cs

8 years old, Dad bought a Suzuki 50 Trailhopper for my birthday. That did it! I'm lucky enough to still be able to sit with him in his garage and laugh and tell him how this is all his fault.