Good riddance to the year no one predicted

Let's be honest: Nobody saw 2020 coming. The worst pandemic in just over a century. Unnecessary deaths. Protests in the streets. Wildfires wiping out entire swaths of the western United States and Australia and enough hurricanes to use up all the entire damn English alphabet and a disturbing number of Greek letters. Ever deeper political division, not just over U.S. elections and U.K. Brexit, but also in the form of conflict in dozens of countries, from Hong Kong to Sudan to Bolivia.

And even if somehow we could have seen all this coming when we sat down a year ago to make our predictions for the motorcycle world in 2020, we still would have gotten them mostly wrong. Even if I'd known a pandemic was coming, would I have correctly predicted a surge in dirt bike sales? Even if you'd told me Marc Márquez would miss the entire MotoGP season, would I have tapped Joan Mir as the 2020 champion? Could I have predicted Harley (USA! USA!) Davidson would get a German CEO? That the Yamaha YZF-R6 would be the first 600 cc supersport to disappear from the street lineup?

I have to be honest and say "Not a chance in hell."

So I'm not handing out any grades this year to the rest of the team, as I usually do. Just for old time's sake, I'll give myself a few credits and knocks. I was totally wrong in predicting the Honda XR650L and Polaris Slingshot would disappear from the lineups. 2021 models of both are for sale. I was right in predicting Cameron Beaubier would romp to a fifth MotoAmerica Superbike title, totally wrong in predicting Márquez would win nine races to tie Angel Nieto for third on the list of all-time grand prix victories and I underestimated Garrett Gerloff, predicting a best finish of fourth in his World Superbike rookie season when he actually got on the podium three times. And I was right in predicting Cycle World would cease print publication, though, in hindsight, I was wrong to make it my "long shot prediction."

2020 was a profoundly unpredictable year. There were COVID-19 survivors in their 90s and healthy 20-somethings who died. It was also a deeply inequitable year. If you were the founder of a small bar or restaurant, you may well have lost your livelihood. If you were the founder of Amazon, your net worth increased more than $70 billion. And what was true in the broader world also applied to our smaller motorcycle universe. If you worked in a motorcycle assembly factory, you got sent home at some point, and some were laid off forever. If you own a motorcycle dealership that sells a lot of dirt bikes, you may have had record sales, while your service department hummed with extra business.

Some lost it all in 2020 while some fared well, though it's hard to call it a good year for anyone. Some lost a person they cared about, or lost their own health. Young people lost their chance to experience some of those milestone moments we usually take for granted as part of moving from school to adulthood. Old people lost chances to cuddle grandbabies. Even those of us who suffered none of those losses lost a year's worth of future fond memories, of mountaintop views we didn't see while leaning on a cooling motorcycle or stories from friends around a camp fire at the end of a day of riding. I know people who experienced none of the big losses but still feel stress and anxiety, maybe mixed with a little guilt for feeling that way when others suffered more. If that's you, you're not alone. You're not abnormal. Maybe you're just feeling the cumulative effect of many small losses.

I think the answer comes down to a combination of kindergarten-level wisdom and amateur counseling: Be kind to each other and then be kind to yourself.

Every new year starts with hope. This one starts with the burden of hopes that have a weight and a tinge of urgency unlike any other year in my lifetime. We hope this is the year we get back on the road, back on the trails, back on our motorcycles, back with friends and riding through a world that's more healthy and more harmonious. But come what may, we'll be here at Common Tread to share the ride with you.