Nice to watch special numbers roll over on the odometer, and considering that it was the third time my wife graced my machine and self with her presence it was really special. Since I mounted the sissy bar I had been hinting that now the weather was nice it was time she took a spin with me. So after church and lunch she got dressed in denim with her H-D boots and motorcycle gloves, found a long strap leather purse for the essentials and used the full face helmet.
So the pressure is now on me not to drop us into the road, what me worry? better believe it. I was almost certain I was hitting the wrong brake going down the drive but changed to clutch and rolling on the throttle - which makes a better start than turning into the dirt. Shift gears slowly and smoothly - she listens to all clunks and thumps and thuds with mystical intensity. Stopping is the same, the turn after stop is heavier to roll into, but I will get comfortable with it, lots of turns on this trip. She grabs my Levi jacket about where my latissimus dorsi are, and I tell her she should sew handles on there for future rides - she doesn't let go. Maybe a rock climbers harness is what I need so she can have better gripping points. She starts leaning into me when she thinks we are going to go into and through a turn, since I am not wiggling the bike under me, like I would when I ride alone, the ride is stable and not very dangerous.
At full stops at light and stop signs we talk a little, if we were to do more riding together a radio headset for each rider would be best, but then we would have to have a conversation, hmm... We try all the roads and all the speeds except the highway I-5, some things shouldn't be shared - my fear of fool drivers on the expressway is one of them. It was a beautiful day, the Air Force is doing their final day of thundering jets and Thunderbird performance, picnicking in the park we ride through and lots of other riders to wave at - one has to be noticed, even waving at our neighbors as we come home, smiling safely, braking smoothly and dropping my wife off before I park the motorcycle. I get so many great days in my life, hope I haven't run out of them, they do seem to get better and better.
5 comments:
Sounds like a perfect day!
She sure has more courage than I. I rode your old Harley once with our dad, and I swore that I would never ride again. The gas prices are making me think about a motor tricycle, though. I tend to think of them as more stable.
Just lovely, gave me a smile.
that's terribly romantic, I think.
My old Harley was the same age as I at the time, 18 years and had a great mechanic rebuilding it - Dad, there wasn't anything to be afraid of riding with him. It was your brother that would do fool things with it, and not that often.
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