Birth of a Biker Chick

I was surfin blogs this morning and visited a friend of mine.
She got me to thinkin about my biker moments. Thought I would share how I fell into the biker chick role.

My hubby has always had a thing for motorcycles. I enjoyed riding also, and was happy to take the "bitch" seat. I enjoyed the wind in my face, the scenery and not being responsible for keepin the tires on the road. In Feb 1992 I gave birth to my daughter, and Bri (my hubby) celebrated by purchasing a Harley. What a birthday gift huh? I was happy for him because I knew how much he loved it. I rarely rode with him as I seemed to be constantly attatched to the baby AND when my daughter was only 5 months old, I got pregnant AGAIN! (So much for the old wives tale that nursing mothers can't concieve) Not real easy to ride 2-up when you have a basketball for a belly.

I really started enjoying going with Bri once our son turned 1 (Sept 1994) We joined the local HOG. Made tons of friends. We went on group rides every week. It was a very nice way for us to spend time together and since we didn't have a side car, we were forced to get a babysitter and have some adult fun. The catch here was in finding a "reliable" sitter. NOT an easy task. Very often we would get someone to agree to sit with the kids for 2 hours on Sunday morning, and come Sunday morning, the sitter wouldn't bother to show up. Gotta love that! So being the nice understanding wife I am, I would force Bri to go without me. This went on for months. I didn't know how to ride on my own, so I had to rely on these get aways for my chance to enjoy the bike. I became frustrated over missing out all the time.

After about 6 months of this hit and miss ride time for me, I found myself at the Harley dealership one day with my sister. Think I was there to drop off the recent edition of our chapter newsletter that I helped publish. For some odd reason that day, I was feeling kinda gutsy and adventurous. So I started scoping out the bikes in the showroom. Now, I am a bit deficient in the height department. So finding a bike I felt comfortable on was no easy task. I had never rode solo. I had absolutly no clue where the gas pedal and the brakes were. But for some reason on that day, I decided it was time for me to take the hog by the horns and buy myself a bike.

I remember my sister encouraging me between giggles. I had no idea if I could even get a loan or worse yet if I would ever be able to learn how to ride. But I was determined. I found out that the Hugger883 was built for us height deficient types. Both my feet laid flat on the ground, the bars were comfortable and I could close my eyes and feel myself navigating this machine down the open road. It just so happened they had a pretty bronze pearl model that some guy had just traded in. He had owned it for about 3 months and made a bunch of modifications to it before deciding he wanted something bigger. Seemed to be my lucky day!

I asked my friend Rich, the salesmen, for an application. His response was "Don't you want to call Bri and ask him about it first?" WELL... that just about pissed me off! How dare he assume I need permission to buy myself a toy. Even more determined then ever, I grabbed the pen out of his hand and started filling away. About 20 minutes later I walked out to go finish my shopping. I don't think I really thought it would all go thru, let alone go so quickly. Within an hour my cell phone rang. It was Rich, calling to tell me I could come pick up my bike. O M G !! My Bike!! What on earth had I done?!? lol

I took a deep breath and told him I would have to wait until later that night or the next day, when I could have someone come with me to drive my car home. Keep in mind here, I can NOT ride a motorcycle. I couldn't have made it out of the parking lot pushing it without wrecking it lol The truth was I had to wait until later when I could get Bri to ride it home for me. But over my dead body was I going to let Rich know that LOL

I made a stop off at the DMV to pick up the motorcycle handbook. My next task was to get the permit I needed to be able to ride my new bike, if I ever mastered being able to keep it upright and rolling. That night I studied like a mad woman possessed. I was going the next morning to take the test and I WAS going to pass!! Which I did (only missed one question too) I impatiently waited for Bri to get home that night, proudly showed off my new permit as I was pushing him to the car and off we went to get my ride.

The next day I got up bright and early. I had spent the evening listening to Bri's tips and hints on how best to attack learning how to ride. I knew everything there was to know about the make up of the bike. I know knew that there was no gas pedal, but a throttle. (Important knowledge) Much like with life though, book smarts doesn't always make you an expert. Putting text into physical motion is a whole nother ballgame. We had a 150' gravel driveway. My goal was to walk the bike out to the road and position myself so I could go straight. Our street was 3 miles long, that gave me time to get used to the feel before I had to think about making any type of turn. Long story short, that first day I never made it to the end of the driveway. I laid it down at about 100'. Sugarsand is NOT a bikers best friend! Lesson #1 I learned on my own.

I'm not sure how much my bike weighed but it felt like a brass elephant when I tried to right it. It took all my energy to get it back on the kickstand, but I did. And when Bri returned from work that night, that is exactly where it sat !! My arms felt like wet noodles and my spirits were in the dirt. I mentally beat myself up. What kind of fool was I to think I could master this? How was I going to face the shame of having to take the bike back to the dealership and explain what a huge mistake I had made? The bike sat in the garage for 2 days while I worked up the guts to try it again.

Sunday morning, before anyone was up I had gotten mad at myself for giving in. I took that energy into the garage, I started that bike and slowly worked my way down the driveway. I made it out to the road and away I went. Slow and ever so unsteady but I was rolling. I even managed to make it to 2nd gear. It is a very bizarre sensation to be at the controls. The force of the wind was greater, the fear of failing and smashing this pretty new bike. And OMG if a car had pulled out in front of me, I would have been a goner. Slowly I gained some confidence. I managed to turn around in a driveway. Going back to the house I found 3rd gear. Whew, maybe I was going to make it after all.

At that time I was working 4p - midnight. So for 2 weeks I would have Bri ride my bike to work when he went in the morning, then he would come to my work, leave the bike and take the car home. At midnight in my town the streets are all but deserted. It was the perfect opportunity for me to hone my new skills and I quickly became comfortable riding.

That has been many years ago, and now I ride without thinking about it. I guess it becomes 2nd nature like everything else. Knock on wood I have never laid a bike down since that first scary day. And Lord willing, I hope I never have to. I never forget how vulnerable we are on a bike. I assume no one is going to see me and that everyone is looking to run me over. Makes me a defensive driver I guess. Once you ride solo, it becomes like an addiction and I absolutly love it!