Yep, that's right, I finally got a ride again. Years back, many many years back -- see the title of this post for the exact number -- I owned two small Yamahas. I loved them very much, but I gave them up as I entered the realm of adulthood and responsibilities and bills and other excuses/reasons for giving up the freedom and joy of riding a motorcycle down the open road.
Granted, the bikes I once owned were small and didn't really have the power to go very far down the open road, but I still got enough of a taste of it that I've been craving it all these years and just waiting for the day I'd have enough money to buy a bike of substance.
That day never came, so I gave up on the having "enough money" part and just decided to pile on more debt. Who wants to be out of debt, anyway? What's the fun in that? I have no idea because I'll never know, so I can only imagine that it's no fun at all and thus justify my keeping myself in debt.
Back in April I fell in love with a 110th limited anniversary-edition HD Super Glide Custom. He was a beauty, and I couldn't stop thinking about him even though I knew I really couldn't afford him. But I also knew that the day when I truly could afford him or another like him would never ever come.
Two months later I returned to the store just to see if he was still there, and he was! That could only mean one thing -- destiny. He had spurned all other suitors and was patiently awaiting my return, so of course I couldn't let him down. Especially when he gleamed at me so seductively in the light of the showroom.
So, I signed the papers and bought him. I left him there, though, so they could attach saddle-bags to his frame. If he and I were to go out and have some excursions, I'd need a place to stow some gear. It took a little longer than I'd hoped before he was finally finished and delivered to my doorstep, but he arrived looking even sexier than I remembered -- and bigger and (gulp) scarier.
There he was sitting, gleaming, in my driveway and I was suddenly scared that I'd made a horrible decision. What the hell was I thinking? I'm a middle-aged mother of two, recently-divorced, long-time teacher and coach -- I have no business being on a bike. At least that was what the fun-sucking voices in my head were telling me until I sent them away to torment somebody else.
I got on and took off for my first solo ride in almost a quarter of a century! I sucked. My gear shifting was jerky, I wobbled a lot, I had a hard time holding the bike up at a stop -- basically, the voices came back and started yelling at me to cut my losses and give up.
But I soldiered on, and soon it was all coming back to me. It was glorious -- even though I still looked like I was about to fall over at any minute to anybody watching me. But with every short ride, my confidence and my abilities grew, and soon I was venturing onto the highway for short jaunts at high speeds.
I still have a lot to learn or relearn, and I still haven't gone out on any long trip. I figure for the rest of the summer and this fall,I will simply take it a bit easy and stay cautious. Then, when next spring and summer rolls around, I'll have the whole time to take my baby out and go places with him.
So, if you see a slightly plump, middle-aged blondish woman on a gorgeous bronze Dyna Super Glide, please wave -- and give me a wide berth (just in case) -- and know that I'm just out enjoying the ride and the road after far too many years of seeing it from the inside of a car.
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