Monday, August 29

day 10497: keeping my head up...

So I’m officially a biker chick. I rode a motorcycle for the first time in my life Saturday morning, and now, I have my license… or most of it. Technically, I’m still in license limbo. I passed the riding test and qualified for my M2, but because I had a little bit of a timing issue with my written test, I still have to wait another 53 days until I can ride at night and on the highways. No big deal… not sure I really want to anyway.

It was intimidating, but not nearly as nerve racking as I had initially anticipated. The instructors were good (mostly) and patient (mostly) and took a good amount of time explaining MOST of the essentials we needed to know in order to ride a bike. I say “most” because I’m not the most mechanically inclined person in the world. I barely know how to drive standard on a car, talk about relating that knowledge to a motorcycle. Clutch, shift, throttle, friction point… what the heck? It took a bit to absorb everything, but towards the end of day one, I was slaloming with the best of them.

Day two, though, was a completely different story. Everything I learned the day before was forgotten. First thing I did was jump the clutch and skid off into “on-coming traffic”. Confidence shaken, I managed to regain control of my bike and ride through the rest of the morning relatively unscathed. By lunchtime, I had gotten the hang of it (mostly) and by mid-afternoon, passed the test with nearly flying colours.

I’m told that I’m a good rider, especially for someone who’s never been on a bike before… not even as a passenger. I found out afterwards that the 20 year old biker gang wannabes were talking about me, and how they all thought that I’d been riding for a while and if a chick could do it, then gosh-darn-golly they had to do it as well. Backwards compliment from a bunch of kids, sweet.

The bikes are calling to me. Everytime someone drives by, I stare after it in lustful jealousy. I can’t wait to ride again, but first… must win the lottery so I can afford a bike… and my leathers… pink… no… blue… no… black… argh…

Until then, I can only keep dreaming and working on keeping my head up looking where I want to go…

Vroom.

3 comments:

Flamer said...

Wow, that's so cool. I totally admire your courage to try new things that would be considered outside typical comfort-zones for many people. You are certainly living up to your websites' moniker of "passion...schmassion". But be careful though, there is no such thing as a fender-bender for a motorcyclist. The term "biker" is sometimes a synonym for "organ donor", you know. The thrill of riding a sport bike should perhaps be tempered with the thought of being paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of your life. Imagine for a moment the tremendous financial and emotional travail that your family, and friends would suffer if this were to one day happen. Don't give people like LZ the satisfaction of celebrating in your misfortune. A word from the wise - not all people are worthy of trust and friendship. An accident on the 401, or an explosion from an improvised explosive device set by Shiite or Sunni insurgents (if by chance you are riding in Bagdhad) would just be fodder for malicious and two-faced people to gloat and snicker. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be a kill-joy or anything, I do in fact agree with your seeking of new adventure and Bush's war on terrorism, it's just that some forms of thrill seeking represent unnecessary risk. I'm just saying...well, maybe I don't know what I'm saying. I...um...how should I put this.....JUST BE SAFE, ok? You are too valuable for us to lose....that's all.

schmassion said...

Thanks for caring, flamer. My organ donor card was signed when I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't die regretting that I haven't lived.

Everyone faces similar risks every day even by jaywalking across the street. You can only control your actions... you can't control the actions of the people around you.

If I have learned anything over the past few years, it's that I can't let my fears and hesitations stop me from doing something I want to do. But to take your words to heart, the moment I become comfortable on a bike, that would be the moment that I stop riding a bike. Like climbing, nerves and energy are a good thing. The moment someone becomes comfortable with it, they lose their focus and their ability to stay sharp. And as we know, JB and I have both paid the price of people losing their concentration... trust and comfort do not come easy anymore...

ps... I don't think I know you, but LZ would definitely not be celebrating any misfortune... please don't bash my friends.

teahouse said...

Wow..go you! Way to be a biker chick!