Hog Wild Weekend

I spent this entire weekend on a motorcycle. It was beyond awesome. Nirvana.

Thursday night started my Rider's Edge course, which is sponsored by the Harley Davidson dealership in my town. The class was comprised of twelve people and four of us were women. We had a blast. On Thursday, we had just over three hours of class time. Friday was the same. The time you have to spend with your nose in a book is very similar to sitting through the whole "rules" portion of the Academy Awards. A necessary evil but not especially scintillating.

Saturday was different. For the bulk of the day, we were on the bikes. Did I mention that we had torrential rain? Oh, it was awful. We got through three exercises with a little light rain. I asked one of my instructors if I should get my rain pants on and he said he thought it might pass. Well, on the fourth exercise, the sky opened up and we got soaked. I am not talking damp where you might be a bit uncomfortable. This was run your hand down the leg of your pants and water streams off. Absolutely miserable. I actually wrung out my leather gloves.

Lest you think that there wasn't a silver lining....soaking wet jeans called for emergency action. I had to shop.

Determined, I strode into the merchandising section of the dealership and tried on a pair of Harley jeans. I came out and the sales girl looked at them and said, "You are floating in those. Can I get you a smaller size?" This would be the part in the story where I heard harp music and the sales girl was suddenly bathed in a beautiful white light.

"Why, yes. I will take a smaller size." I don't know if is my amped up exercise program or if Harley Davidson is just generous in their sizing but who cares? The whole experience made my day. I ended up buying two pairs of jeans and a black belt with silver studs that just screams biker chick. Nirvana, I tell you.


Anyway, we had classwork to finish so we chose to do it during the downpour. Later on, the rain had slowed to a steady sprinkle and we tried again. It's funny how perspective can change. By the time we were able to get back on the bikes, we were grateful for the drizzle and the opportunity to be one with our rides. The only mishap was one of the girls laid down her bike. For those that don't know, this means that she lost control and the bike went over. We cheered, though, because we were told that at least one student does this with each class. We were glad that Sarah had taken the brunt for the rest of us.

Sunday morning, I woke up and felt like I had been beaten with a blunt object, particularly around my tailbone. My thighs were on fire and my left hand was sore from the clutch. It didn't matter, though. I couldn't wait to get back on a bike. We rode ALL day, drill after drill.

Early afternoon, while doing a challenging drill through a curve, I LAID MY BIKE DOWN...just barely. Part of the problem was the fact that I couldn't straighten my left arm but I knew that and I should have compensated. Ah well. It was the source of genuine concern from my fellow riders and then gentle abuse once everyone could see that I didn't suffer a scratch. The great thing was that it wasn't the $25,000 bike I'm planning to purchase. I also learned how to pick a bike up, the knowledge of which I plan never ever to need again.

Ten minutes later, Jeanie laid her bike down too. So, along with Sarah, we three became crash sistahs for life. And no, it isn't a woman driver thing. Plenty of the guys weebled and wobbled but didn't fall down because they were strong enough to counter gravity. This is what I will tell myself so that I'll sleep at night.

Later afternoon, I made up for it. On my riding test, during the quick stop drill, I came at the instructor in second gear going about 26 miles per hour (roughly double the required speed). At that velocity, I was able to stop the bike in 11 feet, which happened to be the best of the class. My instructor, Tim, said my performance caused him to have a religious moment. Anxiety will do that for you. I will say that when I crossed the cones, Tim's eyes were as big as saucers and his mouth formed a perfect "O"...

....like Mr. Bill.

So, I passed the riding portion of my exam and the written test is tonight. My favourite motorcycle is sitting on the dealership floor and every time I walk by, he calls out like a siren:

"Buy me, Beth. Think of the times we'll have together. Just you and me and the open road. You know you want me. Come. Be one with the hog."

I may just lose that September 15th bet after all.