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.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
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:
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.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
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. :)
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. :)
Monday, November 22, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, November 15, 2010
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!
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