Defensive Driving on a Motorcycle

My young daughter called last night, shaken about some driving mishaps she had last night, and fearful to get back on the road.  One of them was a car running a red light when she was crossing on green and the car almost t-boned hers before it could stop itself.  The other was on the interstate home, a semi truck ran her off the road, where she sat stuck in the snow in tears, until a good Samaritan stopped to help her get her car back on the road.
This reminded me of the good defensive driving that I have learned since riding my own Harley Davidson.  There are several things I now do when driving my car as well, that keep me safer, just because I have learned them for the motorcycle.

• Intersections:  Always be watchful.  Never take a green light for granted.  Watch drivers faces - do they see you?  Watch their wheels - are they turned as if they are going to make a turn into you (sometimes turn signals are not reliable)?  Make sure cars coming to their red light on the cross street are really slowing down before running yourself into that intersection.  Are you in a blind spot to someone else in the intersection - perhaps to the left or right of a bigger vehicle blocking other cars from seeing you.  Intersections can be deadly to a biker.. slow down and be especially watchful.
• On highways:  If I find myself in the blind spot of a car or truck, I quickly move either far enough behind or in front of them so that there sudden lane change doesn't box me into a dangerous situation.  Interstate accidents at high speeds can also be deadly to us- we don't win a battle with a car or especially a truck.  I also try to stay to the left, to avoid cars merging onto the interstate.  There have been too many times that those drivers seem to think they can have the lane I am in, as if it is their right.  So I am alert at those on ramps.  Staying in the left lane not only gives me an excuse to go a little faster (love that!) but also usually gives me a safe shoulder to escape on if need be.
• Rain for a biker is like snow for a driver.  It can be a little slick, so I am mindful of road conditions.  It is usually slickest when the rain has just started falling and the road is just getting a bit of water mixed with the oil and grime.  If I can pull off the road for a few minutes (usually to change into more appropriate gear), then that gives the street a bit more time to wash away the top layer of muck and is a bit safer for riding.

Basically I drive my motorcycle as if no one sees me, and I stay well out of  their way, always watching others and doing my best to anticipate trouble before it happens.  Being mentally alert and incredibly relaxed at the same time is part of the thrill of the ride!

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 If this doesn't get you in the mood for riding weather in the dead of winter, you are hopelessly NOT addicted!

My Harley Davidson Softail is Crying in the Garage

Seriously, I am considering moving to LA or Tampa Bay...  We just finished a blizzard for the last 24 hours, snow on the ground, ice underneath, the attached garage is about 30 degrees and the temperature outside is about 0.  My Harley is crying. 
I go out to visit it several times a day and just look at it.  I think it looks beseechingly at me to get on and ride, but I cannot this month, or next month, or probably next month....   ever since I began riding my own, the winters have seemed longer and longer.  I long for a 50 degree day, when I am aching for that freedom and power underneath me, traveling with the semis on Interstate 80.  I will gear up eagerly, putting on as many layers as I can, come March. 
For my comfort, I cannot physically stand to ride in weather colder than about 45 degrees.  At that temp, the interstate provides too  much wind chill but I can make it short distances in town.  To gear up I will wear long johns under jeans and perhaps my chaps (I found them in the closet today thank goodness - they had been awol for several months),  I will put on long sleeved shirt, sweatshirt, and leather jacket.  A hat on my head does the trick and I have not resorted to a full face mask yet but may consider it soon.  It is usually my hands that get the coldest.  I have glove liners that I wear inside of my thickest riding gloves but without the fairing, my hands seem to take the brunt of the windchill.  I have been shopping for some heated gloves that heat up independently with a battery pack in the wrist sections that is rechargeable.  I think those will do the trick for next spring.  Any heated gloves start at about $200 and up, but they will be worth it, for that is the only thing preventing me from riding below the 50 degree mark.  After all, I live in Iowa.  We spend a great deal of time below 50 degrees so I spend much too much time hearing my Softail crying in the garage without me.
I can't wait until spring!

The day I lost my bandanna on Route 66

In the summer of 2009, we skipped out Sturgis trip and headed to California via Route 66.  On the third day, we took off heading west.  I always wear just a bandanna if I am not riding in a mandatory helmet state.  The bandanna was important to keep my chin length hair out of my face and keep it presentable for stops.  Having a mid-length hair style makes it tough on women riding Harleys because we do not have enough to ponytail or braid, yet we certainly have more than the guys that choose to shave their hair or wear crew cuts.
You will have to keep in mind that this was my first real summer with my own bike, and I was feeling my wild oats that day on route 66, as the warm sun was beating down on us, and the scenery was so beautiful.  I felt wild, and in control at the same time, following my husband west on the route. 
As we were riding, a sudden gust of wind took my bandanna off of my head and sent it flying.  Following him, I would not suddenly stop and retrieve it or I would lose him, so I waited until I could attract his attention to stop and finally told him about my lost bandanna.  He asked if I wanted to go back the five miles or so to look for it but I was too excited to keep going and I told him "no, the wind and sun will feel good in my hair", so we continued to ride.
We were on the road a solid 4 - 6 hours after that until we stopped at a hotel along the route for the night.  Sitting in my room, tired, and with a sunburned forehead (again, read the lesson about the sunscreen - I am a slow learner), I began to comb out my hair to get in the shower.  I tried and tried to put a comb and then my brush into my hair and free it from the tangles.  It looked like dreadlocks by then, seriously beyond any human effort on the comb.
You guessed it, I started to cry (again).  I was so angry at the world that my head was painful, that I sent my husband riding to the nearest drug store to buy detangler, and a bottle of vodka.  When he returned, I was in no better mood but after about 1/2 the bottle of detangler and 1/2 the bottle of vodka, I could almost comb my hair, shower, and then put my weary body to bed.
I see women riders with their long tresses blowing in the wind behind them and I wonder what their secret is.  Someday I will stop one of them and ask them how they comb their hair after riding. 
Lesson learned:  contain the hair or pay the consequences!

Discrimination against Women riding Harleys

As found on dictionary.com discrimination is defined as "treatment or consideration of, or making a distinction in favor of or against, a person or thing based on the group, class, or category to which that person or thing belongs rather than on individual merit".  We usually think of discrimination along with the term prejudice, which is defined as "an unfavorable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or without knowledge, thought, or reason". (dictionary.com)
When I began learning to ride my own motorcycle, I considered it the realization of a life-long dream; to conquer that machine, to enjoy the thrill of the ride at my own discretion, the wind in my hair, the beauty of the countryside.  Never in my wildest dreams did I believe or even consider that there would be people who would look at me differently because of the mode of transportation I chose.  Call it naivete on my part, but I did not know there was a pre-conceived notion out there among "mainstream America" that people who ride motorcycles were all bad - prejudice.  
I chose a Harley Davidson, simply for the fact that they are built a big roomier for the comfort of my larger frame, and they hold their retail value a bit better than some other brands.  I love the look, feel, and freedom of all motorcycles.  I even considered buying scooter for awhile, just to take to and from work in order to save gas money, but I ended up buying a full sized Harley Davidson Heritage Softtail.
It wasn't until I started riding my own Harley Davidson that I began seeing a bit of negative judgement from people, including most of it from some of my co-workers.  There were comments made to me that didn't make a lot of sense to me, including "you don't see a Vice President riding a Harley".  How I had become a "biker" instead of the professional established business woman I had been before was unfathomable.  There had been no transformation inside of myself, except the joy and thrill of riding when I could.  Many days the only riding I could do was the 10 mile commute to work and home.  After all, I had a responsible job and a family to care for and they would always come first, but the ride relaxed me on the way home and invigorated me on the way to work.  I was still the same person, contributing to both environments in the same manner as before learning to ride.  
Prejudice seems impossible to transform into acceptance, for prejudice involves no knowledge, thought, or reason.  Although the world talks "value of diversity", it really does not walk that talk, as evidenced to me in my work environment.  It was just a few short years after beginning to ride, that my "position was eliminated" and I found myself unemployed.  While I do not believe that my chosen mode of transportation was the only reason for my being let go from my job, I believe it was a contributing piece.  
I tell you this story so that you can "check yourself".  Look deep inside yourself and see if you have some pre-conceived notions about a type of people.  If you are a woman riding a Harley, be aware before you decide to introduce your Harley Davidson into your professional world.  Mind you I did not say "don't do it", but be aware that there are people who will judge you not on the person you are, or the contributions you have made or will make, but will consider you a "biker" of lesser value than those who drive something with 4 wheels.

After days on the road

After a fabulous time riding the black hills, visiting Sturgis, Deadwood, and other cities, it was time to head for home.  We were suntanned to a leathery sheen and we had survived our first long ride together.  It really was a fantastic, exciting, and relaxing experience....  until the ride home.
The day we headed east on Interstate 90, the wind was wicked.  Coming straight out of the north, Mike drove well, leaning the bike to the left, to counteract the wind, while I whined on the back.  I was exhausted.  I was getting deafened by the wind in my left ear; it sounded as if I was in a wind tunnel and it actually hurt.  Not wanting to finish that ride home that day, I would have insisted we stop, if we did not have a commitment to be home that evening.  Not only was it windy, the sun was bright and hot, without a cloud in the sky.  The wind caused us to make frequent stops along 90 at rest stations to get off the bike to rest and get fluids.  About 2/3 of the way home, we stopped at a rest stop and I was in tears.  My ear hurt from the wind, and the backs of my hands actually had started to sting.  When we stopped, I took a good look at my hands and noticed I was so sunburned that I was blistering.  I had neglected to sunscreen the backs of my hands!  All these past days, I had religiously rubbed sunscreen in my hands and rubbed it on my back, arms, and face, but not the tops of my hands!  I could only cry at that rest stop.  Without gloves, I had no choice but to try to wrap some extra bandannas around both of my hands and climb back aboard that damn bike to continue to head east.
At the next rest stop, an angel was sent to rescue me!  Standing by a soda machine, we happened to look on top and saw an older pair of leather gloves that fit me to a tee!  I looked around and saw no one there to claim them, so I put them on my sunburned hands and rode the rest of the way home with my blisters protected from the cruel sun.  I still have those leather gloves... they will always be dear to me... and I want to thank the biker that lost them, for they went to a gallant use that day.
The most comical part of the trip though was just 30 miles from home.  We were taking an entrance ramp back on to Interstate 80 east.  The ramp was a very sharp turn, graded at 25 miles per hour.  We were traveling so slow on that ramp, that the bike actually just fell over.  As we felt the bike go down, my left leg instinctively came off of the passenger peg and firmly planted itself on the pavement to hold us up.  Mike also had his left leg down to hold us up, but the weight of the Harley Davidson was too much for us and we had to manage to jump and wiggle out of the way as it slowly sank to it's side... right in the middle of the on-ramp.  We were either very lucky or extremely unlucky that no one was around, because somehow we managed to pick up 760 pounds of metal.  How embarrassing!  We slunk the rest of the way home, happy to find our little girl waiting for us with open arms and more than happy to find air conditioning, our own beds, and clean clothes.
We were already plotting next year's trip!

Back Seat Riding in the Black Hills

I am surprised I lived through that first trip!  I remember sitting perched behind my husband like a queen sun worshipper, relaxed on the interstate and trusting him to get us where we were going. 
One particular day I got so relaxed that I fell asleep!  I was awakened sharply from my nap by my husband slowing down and yelling over his shoulder at me.  Apparently when I fell asleep my head and upper body slumped a bit to the side and threw us off balance.  He felt the bike lean but didn't know what was happening, and as he was correcting the lean, he realized I had fallen asleep.  I am lucky I didn't fall off and also lucky he didn't just boot me off and leave me on the roadside.  The only thing that kept me on the bike was back of the nice padded seat of a Harley Electra-Glide.  I tried really hard to stay awake after that day but didn't always do so well.  I can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. 
The other thing I remember about riding behind him that year was how nervous I was on the sharp curves of the Black Hills.  We rode all the scenic routes that we could but I must have been a huge pain, with my back seat driving (literally).  Whenever I noticed a speed zone before a curve, I looked at his speedometer and told him to slow down.  Even when he was going the speed limit for the curve, I thought he ought to slow down.  I was just not comfortable with those curves and the rocks on either side of me.  There were also dozens, maybe hundreds of other bikers around us, passing us, getting close to us, and otherwise making me a nervous wreck!  Now that I ride my own, I know how patient he was with me that trip.  If someone were behind me harassing me, I would have had a thing or two to say to them about that.  So if you are a woman riding behind, you better trust your driver completely and relax, but not to the point of toppling off the back of the bike after going to sleep. 

Sunscreen: protect your face and lips

After the brutal rainstorm we endured, we dried out in the summer sun.  One fantastic thing about the weather in the midwest, is that storms blow up quickly, but leave quickly.  After the storm you are left with a beautiful sunny day (at least in August).  Riding your Harley Davidson on the highway in 90 degree heat will, thankfully, dry you out quickly.
When we arrived at our hotel in Rapid City late the second day, I learned another lesson, but thankfully this was one that I learned at the expense of some other poor woman rider.  We saw a young women with tousled wind blown hair, in a bandanna, sitting in the courtyard of the hotel on her cell phone.  She appeared to be hunched over in despair, with her back was to us, as we heard snippets of her conversation.  Here is what we heard:  "but you don't understand, they are very burned", "pain", "bleeding", and "please call in something for me".  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she was making a call to her doctor.  I became morbidly curious to know what had happened to her, so I loitered around the courtyard to catch a better glimpse of her.  When she finally hung up the phone and turned so that I could see her face, I saw the issue she was dealing with.  She had the most painful looking lips and face that I had ever seen.  It was clear that she had ridden a long ways, maybe several days to get there, without sun protection for her face and lips.  Her nose was bright red and her cheeks were burned, but by far the biggest problem was this poor girl's lips!  They were at least twice the size of Angelina Jolie's and I doubted that they were originally enhanced.  Her lips were swollen, bright red, cracked, and oozing.  It was a painful sight just to look at, let alone for her to experience.  I hoped her doctor had been able to call in a prescription for something to fix the problem, although I suspect only time would really heal those monster lips.  I felt so sorry for her, but I learned a valuable lesson for all women riders:  Wear sunscreen at all times, and pay close attention to a lip balm that has a high SPF factor!  I would have to hope that she learned that as well, the hard way.

The first day of our first long trip

We were excited to get on the road for the first day of our nine day adventure.  We had our Harley Davidson Electra-Glide packed to capacity.  Both side saddlebags stuffed full, the touring bag in the back was full and I had all the clothes I could pack in a bulging canvas bag tied to the top.  I mounted the back seat preparing to be one of those women I see relaxing in the passenger seat, and we took off west.
We rode an entire day, leaving early in the morning.  The sunshine felt wonderful and warm, the wind was in back of us and we were elated to begin our trek.  After riding west on Interstate 80 and connecting with I29 going north, we crossed the South Dakota border, we tired of interstate travel and thought it would be great fun to take a two lane road west, the rest of the way through South Dakota.  There is so much more to see and experience on a two lane highway, so we chose highway 16 to take west. 
Heading west on highway 16 we noticed there were not as many places to stop or pull over.  That was not so bothersome at that point because we saw a small town with a gas station for a break every 45 minutes or so.  We stopped frequently that day, not used to spending so much time "in the saddle".  It must have been about 3pm when we were riding along that highway and a storm cloud came out of nowhere!  The sky turned totally black and the wind picked up.  We could smell rain in the air but had no where to go.  We continued, battling a strong cross wind that practically took our motorcycle into the oncoming lane.  Talk about scary!  I pictured us being picked up in that wind and hurled to OZ to see the wizard with Dorothy.  Then the storm really squalled and we were caught in a torrential downpour along with the wind.  My poor husband could not see in front of him or keep the bike safely on the road and there was NO WHERE for us to pull over.  We were forced to stop on the shoulder of this little stretch of highway.
So now we were out in the open, in tornado country, off of the bike, and literally trying to keep the wind from blowing the bike over.  There was no place to take cover out there, not even a tree.  Since my canvas bag was on top of the touring pack, Mike removed it and put it on the ground to make sure the bike was a little more stable.  We stood that way in the downpour, holding up the bike for what seemed like hours.  It was probably only a few minutes but you can imagine. 
Eventually the rained stopped.  Those prairie storms come and go quickly.  We have experienced even more of them since, in South Dakota.  So we strapped my wet bag back to the top of the touring pack and rode on west for about 20 minutes, to the nearest town with a gas station.  We were so wet that I could hardly get off the motorcycle.  My pants, boots, socks, and jacket were dripping wet.  I even had water in my boots.  I couldn't wait to change into some dry clothes at that gas station!  I took the bag into the bathroom to find some dry clothes and guess what?  Every stitch of clothing I had brought with me was wet too!  A canvas bag does not withstand a downpour, and especially when set down on the ground in a running puddle of water during a storm.  The bag had taken water from the top and bottom.  I almost cried right then.  But the sun was out and it was at least warm, and we had an adventure to continue.  I literally took off my clothes to wring them dry and returned to my perch on the back of the motorcycle to head for Rapid City and our first night in the hotel.

Packing for our first long motorcycle trip

We were preparing to leave for the Black Hills and Sturgis, South Dakota at the end of July 2006. I made my usual list of what I took with me on a typical vacation... my comfort items. We were to be gone for about 9 days so I figured on 9 pair of pants and shorts, 12 shirts (in case I couldn't decide what to wear), all my toiletries, make-up, jewelry, several pair of shoes, and various other odd items.  When I laid all of that on the bed, I realized it would have fit in a trunk, not a saddle bag.  This really concerned me... how could I pack enough for 9 days in a saddle bag and the duffel bag my husband insisted I use.  Toiletries, make-up, and blow dryer alone would have barely fit in a saddle bag....  So I had to make difficult decisions.  I could not imagine how to pack for this trip.  I was told to prepare for all types of weather.. we were roughing it..  but it was August in the midwest, surely it would not be cold on our trip.
I begrudgingly began to eliminate items from my "necessities" list.  Women face unique challenges and higher standards so I still packed make-up, jewelry, hairspray, hair styling tools, 3-4 pair of jeans, 2 pair of shorts, sandals, boots, 9 smaller shirts, jacket, sweatshirt, bandanna, and lots of other useless items.  I managed to pare down enough to literally stuff a canvas duffel bag full and a saddlebag full.  It was a miraculous feat and I was so proud of myself for trimming down my necessities.  My husband, on the other hand took only one pair of boots (on his feet), 2 -3 pair of jeans (including the ones he wore), and 7 shirts (he said we would buy some while we were out).  He packed like a guy and fit 9 days worth of his stuff in one saddle bag.  There is an extra "touring pack" on the back of the Harley Davidson ElectraGlide and it held things like our leather jackets, rain gear, his chaps, helmets, etc.
We had many adventures during those nine days on the road but fast forward to our return home and what I had to unpack that didn't get used:

• Makeup:  Seriously women, if you wear makeup while riding down the road at 75 miles an hour for very long in August heat, make sure it "sticks" well and is waterproof.  I tried to put on makeup for the first few days but we got caught in rain and I looked like a raccoon on day one.  The makeup quickly became untouched in the bottom of the bag.
• Jewelry:  What was I thinking?  A fashion show?  NO.  The road is no place for jewelry.  I had silver dangle hoops that look great but almost ripped my earlobe off at 75 miles an hour.  
• Sandals:  Nope again.  You need protection for your feet when riding, and to get anywhere, you ride.  Where are you going to go to wear those sandals?  
• Hairspray, gel, styling tools:  Are you kidding?  The minute you get on the back of that bike and put on a helmet, bandanna, or worse yet, let the wind take it, your hair becomes a nightmare!  I now know why "bikers" wear that bandanna all day and night.  They don't want you to see their awful hair-do (or hair don't). 
• Shorts: I tried that.  Got a pipe burn on my calf.  Then got a sunburn on my thighs in the dessert, then gave the shorts up!  I always have to learn the hard way...  my husband kept saying "don't wear shorts on the bike".  I didn't listen.
• Clean clothes:  If you are going for days on a motorcycle, forget the untra-squeaky clean feel.  You will feel clean only 1 hour a day (right after your shower).  The rest of the time, you will feel like a dirty sock..  kind of covered with road grime.  Just get used to it and enjoy the ride.

Valuable lessons were learned that year!  Not only did I pack it like an idiot, with unnecessary things, but I had to carry my heavy bags into the hotel every night and back to the bike every morning.  For a distance trip, think comfort only, not glamour!  Take just what you need.  I will help you with a proper packing list in a later post.

Our first Harley Davidson

After our family visit to Sturgis in 2005, we vowed to return on our own Harley.  Mike and I went to the local Harley Davidson dealer in the spring of 2006 so he could test drive a new Electra-Glide.  He fell in love with so much about that beautiful black bike, that he bought it immediately!  The best part about it, he told me, was the room and comfort of riding on it.  He finally fit well on a motorcycle.  He had leg room, a bigger seat, saddle bags and a touring pack for storage.  You see, Mike is a big guy too, at 6 foot 2 and over 250 pounds.  He brought that bike home and told me to "gear up" for a ride.
I was skeptical at first.  I remembered being cramped on a little seat behind him, having my knees feel like they were under my chin and feet resting on little tiny pegs.  It had been some years since we had enjoyed riding together.  That first ride for me on the Electra-Glide was WONDERFUL!  I had a nice comfortable seat with armrests and plenty of leg room and he still fit comfortably in front of me.  It only took that first ride for me to remember the joy I felt riding.  I am really not a bike snob for sake of one brand over another but it is hard not to be partial to comfort.
We took many rides that spring; short ones and longer ones.  It was wonderful to spend that time together with him on the open road.  It was that spring that we finalized our plan to attend the 2006 Sturgis Bike Rally.

Our first trip to Sturgis

Sturgis, South Dakota, is a very small town of a few thousand people at most.. until the first week in August every year.  Almost every year for the past 70 years, Sturgis has been home to the famous "motorcycle rally".  Mike and I had not known much about the Sturgis motorcycle rally until the summer of 2005.  He still had that Kawasaki Vulcan and was riding a bit on his own.  I had long since given up on trying to fit comfortably with him even after I had lost about 70 lbs in a recent year. 
It started out to be the family vacation of a lifetime.  We piled the 4 year old and 15 year old daughter into our mini van and headed west to the Black Hills.  Just traveling with two girls that different in age (and one of them a moody, surly teenager) was a story all in itself, but we happened to be traveling at the tail end of July and ended up in our mini van right in the middle of a throng of hundreds of "motorcycle enthusiasts" (bikers) along Interstate 90.  While most "normal" middle class families would have turned around and headed another direction, our interest was piqued and we decided to follow them into the little town of Sturgis to see what it was all about.
If you have never been to Sturgis (or anywhere in the Black Hills) during Bike Week, you can not imagine the amount and noise of motorcycles and the numbers of bikers you see everywhere.  We finally got the minivan parked on a side street several blocks from the main drag and walked the girls through the crowds to the main drag where all the action was.  It was exhilarating,  and different than anything we had ever been in the middle of before.  We quickly realized it was not the place for two little girls, so we stayed long enough to buy some souvenirs and made our exit.  We enjoyed the rest of our family vacation exploring the Black Hills and discovering what a beautiful place it was.
But we vowed to return to the Sturgis Bike Rally the next year, just the two of us.  It became our dream to do, an adventure to realize. :)

On riding behind... with MY behind....

After the initial dissappointing attempt at learning to ride my own motorcycle, I resigned myself to the fact that I would just "ride behind" my husband on his Kawasaki Vulcan.  I reasoned that would be just as good in the long run. 
During that time early in our marriage, we enjoyed doubling up on the bike and taking short rides around town.  I have to tell you that I am 6 foot tall and early in our marriage weighed about 200 pounds.  My butt was at least 20+ inches wide and I was riding on a seat that was about 8 inches wide.  Can you say "permawedgie"?  We limited our riding to short distances because it was just that uncomfortable.  I could not imagine being out very long perched on the back like that.  During that time my husband rode by himself much of the time, and seemed to actually enjoy nice LONG rides.  I couldn't imagine it.
Our riding days became much more limited as we gained a bit of weight throughout our comfortable marriage.  I gained up to above 250 pounds and Mike gained upwards to 300 pounds.  We still tried to continue our riding pleasure but the rides got shorter and shorter as we got more and more cramped trying to fit on the seats.  In fact during one our rides, I could swear I heard that poor Kawasaki WHEEZING up a hill.  We must have been quite a load for it.  Poor thing.
There came a day when my husband, bless his heart, broke the news to me that we just didn't fit on that bike anymore.  What that really meant was that there was only room for one extra large person, not two, and since he was the only one who could drive it, the spoils went to him!  I was sad to kiss my riding days goodbye in favor of continuing to eat. 

The first time I can remember

There are family legends concerning the first time I tried to learn to ride a motorcycle on my own.  Being 23 years old and feeling invincible and being me, I am sure I thought, "there is nothing to it".  What is funny is that although that first ride of mine is a legend among some of my family members, and according to legend I wiped out in that alley, I have no recollection of the incident.  Did I block it out?  Was it too embarrassing?  Is it just a figment of someone's imagination?  I cannot tell you except to tell you that that is something I would have done for sure.
The "real" first time I tried to ride a motorcycle, I was 34 years old and still thought I was invincible and indestructible.  (did I mention I learn things the hard way?)  My new husband owned a Kawasaki Vulcan and I loved to ride behind him but longed to ride my own.  Since I was a girl, I thought motorcycles were cool and I always thought I could do anything the boys could do (only better), so it just followed my traditional reasoning to assume there was nothing to this riding thing and I could do it just fine.
It was a beautiful summer day and my new husband had purchased a cheap used small motorcycle.  I think it was a Honda 350 or something of that size. We did not have a lot of money so this motorcycle was pretty old and not in the best of shape.  He was wise enough to assume I would dump it a time or 2 and he didn't want me to practice on his bike.  Since it was a beautiful summer day, I wore shorts, sandals and a t-shirt outside for my first riding lesson in the driveway.  He admonished me to put on a jacket and jeans, to get covered up in case I wiped out but I fought him on that.  What could happen?  Finally we compromised and I put on pants, and real shoes (no socks of course).  I still had on the t-shirt.  My 4 year old daughter was outside watching from the driveway.  She was a real momma's girl and I was going to show her how easy this was!
After a few instructions on the parts of a motorcycle, like where the brakes were and how to change gears, I decided I could get aboard and give it some gas.  In my mind, I could see myself cruising down our street with the wind in my hair and having a great time.  After all, I reasoned, I knew where the brakes were.
There was a slope to the driveway so I mounted the bike at the top of the driveway and started it up with some instruction by my husband.  He reminded me where the brakes and throttle were and told me to take it easy.  My plan was to kind of coast down the hill of my driveway and gently turn onto our street and drive around the block once.  He and my daughter were watching with anticipation of this feat.
Well, I don't remember exactly what happened, but to this day it is my contention that the throttle stuck!  (damn old POS)  I revved down the driveway, could not figure out how to stop, slow, brake, or much of anything else as I felt the power of the bike keep moving us against my will.  I wanted to stop but did not even realize how to get my feet to the ground!  The bike and I tipped over and it dragged me down the driveway under it on it's side..  actually on MY right side.  I remember coming to a stop after losing skin in the driveway and discovering something pouring out around me while I was under the bike.  (although I about half expected I had wet myself, it was, in fact, gasoline- POS!)  My husband disentangled me from the bike from the driveway so we could assess the damage. 
As you would guess, the bike was lucky that I cushioned it's fall and subsequent slide.  I, on the other hand, was a mess!  As I was assessing the damage to the side of my body that remained uncovered (remember no socks and short sleeves), I realized that my 4 year old was FREAKING OUT.  She was screaming and panicked to see me bloody and laying in the driveway.  It was at that point that my adrenaline kicked in and I realized (like all good mother bears) that I had to take care of her before I could take care of myself. 
I will not ever forget that walk up the driveway to the back door.  I had scooped her up in my left arm, my right arm skinned and bloody.  My right ankle was bleeding into my shoe and I hurt so bad that I had goosebumps and a bit of shock going on.  I limped up to the back door, carrying her and telling her that I was ok, nevermind the blood. 
I never got back on that bike.  It remained abandoned in the garage for a few years until my husband finally gave up on me and sold it.  I can't remember my first supposed riding incident but I sure remember the second one! 
So what is the morale to the story?  Please stay covered when you ride unless you like road rash, even in your own driveway.  Since then I have actually learned to ride well but have tipped over a few more times while learning.  Wear boots and pants or chaps.  Cover your arms and hands.  Never assume you are just going for a short event-free ride.  Your skin depends on it.

Why do you like to ride a motorcycle?

I get asked that question all the time.  I want to say, "why do you like to go to the gym?" or "why do you like chicken wings"?  They can't answer those questions either because the answer is just "because I like it".  I like to ride because it feels as close to flying as I think I will ever come.  To have complete control over that powerful machine and be at the mercy of the elements is an adventure each and every time I ride.  "If I have to explain it, you wouldn't understand."  That is what I answer when asked why I like to ride.  I have always loved motorcycles.   About 27 years ago I tried to learn to ride a motorcycle.  That didn't work out so great so I tried again about 16 years ago.  Guess what?  Still didn't get it.  Just 2 1/2 years ago, at the age of 48, I learned to ride!  If I can do it, you can do it.  But please continue reading.  I will give you lots of stories and tips on what to do and not to do...  and please remember that I am a blond and I embrace every blond hair on my head so I have learned most everything the hard way!  I ride because I love it!