My first ride on my brand new Harley. I had taken the Motorcycle safety course and was feeling pretty confident of my abilities. The thing is, they train you in class on very small bikes, 125-250cc's. You get the fundamentals down, shifting, cornering, safety issues. When you pass the class it allows you to have to only take the written exam with the DMV to get your license. But, going from a 125cc machine to a 1340cc Harley was a major leap. Herein lies the tale:
My start with my new Harley wasn't exactly auspicious nor inspired much confidence from my hubby on my crazy determination to ride. So to blow the myth of the bad ass biker babe that I am now, here's the story of my first day riding my Dyna.

It was delivered on my birthday, a warm, sun-kissed spring day in March. The truck pulled up, and for some reason, they rolled it out onto the sidewalk in front of our house instead of on the street. "Oh well," I thought. "I'll just ride it down the cutout from the driveway into the street and take it around the bike for a quick spin." Now, our house was a corner lot and the bike was parked right on the corner portion of the sidewalk. I started it up, smiled cockedly at hubby, doing all the prechecks taught in MSF, hit 1st gear, released the clutch and break and I was off! And everything I learned in class flew outta my brain!

Instead of making the smooth left turn down sidewalk to the drive-way into the street, I had opened the throttle, flew straight ahead, jumped off the sidewalk, drove straight across the street, jumped the curb onto that sidewalk, went careening down the sidewalk, finally turned the bike down a cutout of one of the neighbors driveways. I continued careening wildly down the street with the throttle full open. Just at that point, my two younger boys who were down the street playing their friends spotted me and started excitedly running toward me. I started screaming and waving my left hand while weaving down the street, "Get outta my way! Get outta my way!!!"

As they moved away, I finally took a deep breath, eased up on the throttle, still not in great control, started settling down and regained some of my brain matter. I made it around the block, down another street, in control and came to a stop facing our drivewya off the side of our house. There stood my husband, clutching his chest looking like Fred Sanford having a heart-attack.

By that time my confidence returned, raised my left hand to wave assuredly at him. I felt the bike beginning to lean, and then boom! I dropped it! Fortunately for the crash bars, I only broke a mirror and turn signal light.

It took another month of riding around the neighborhood, one-on-one tutoring with experienced friends and many practice drills in a big parking lot, finally made me ready for the open roads. Until then, my husband would also bar the garage with van so I couldn't sneak out and ride when he wasn't around. !

Well, it's eight years later and I've riden over 50,000 miles across this great country, survived two major accidents: an encounter with a drunk driver two years ago and a blown tire going 70 mph on the freeway halfway between LA and San Jose this past summer. Here I am, still riding and still lovin' it! And now when hubby sees me riding up and striding toward him boldy in my chaps, he has a big grin on his face! whooya!

Ride Safe - Keep the sun in your face, the wind at your back and the shiny side up!

Glide
_________________
Laissez les bons temps rouler
(Let the good times roll!)