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The Prequel

I had spent twenty odd years sitting happily on the back of our motorcycle, checking out the scenery and directing my husband.

But one pivotal day in April, I was about to depart forever from the back of the bike to a seat in front.

It started when a friend dropped in with a continuing education guide in hand and announced that she was going to take the Motorcycle Riding Course. Cathy said it was on her 'to-do' list before turning 40. I was 45.

My husband jumped right on the bandwagon and suggested I do the same. The two convinced me. On my own, I wouldn't have tried this. But with a little persuasion, I'll try anything once. So the first weekend in May we were registered to start the course. It was our Mothers' Day gift to us.

But first we needed to get beginner's licenses.

Several years earlier, I had received my driver's license exactly one week after my sixteenth birthday. At that time, the world functioned in feet and inches. Now we had to approach this new test in meters. How many meters to that fire hydrant? We went to the license office and after twenty minutes of multiple-choice questions, only two incorrect answers… we had our M1's.

Who remembers that a blue flashing light means a snowplow? Not like I venture out during an Ontario snow storm or anything. Besides that question shouldn't be required. It's a motorbike.

Wayne, my husband, was so excited that he immediately went shopping for a motorcycle. I always thought he enjoyed having me on the back but apparently I was wrong!

My first motorcycle was a used 1998 650 Yamaha VStar Classic. It was a beautiful forest green and creamy white combination. It will be fun to do up, I mean, customize, I thought. Cathy's husband Chris bought her a new Harley Davidson Sportster. Black of course. Is there any other colour for a Harley?

What were they thinking? We had a beginner's permit and didn't know the clutch from the gas. It was a ploy for them to get solo seats!

That first weekend Wayne pulled my new mount out into the street and coaxed me to get on while he explained the gears and clutch combinations. "It's easy," he suggested. I drove terrified, around the subdivision ring road in first gear and hoped that I wouldn't encounter another car or person. I spotted another couple washing bikes, I pulled over went over to introduce myself and ask if they had been riding long. Susan said they had taken the course a few years earlier and she loved riding. She assured me that I would have no problem getting that licence and that we would get together after and go for a ride.

Great! If nothing else I just met a really nice couple. Off I went in first gear with a renewed sense of confidence.

The course was three days starting Friday evening and finishing on Sunday afternoon with a road test.

When we arrived in the class that Mother's Day weekend we were very nervous but excited at the same time. The class was quite large and predominantly male, young males.

A few young females participated as well, then there was Cathy and me. We were the token middle-aged housewives.

The evening went by with all the usual instructions regarding bike, safety gear and a little about the bikes which we would be riding the following day. They were a combination of "dual purpose" bikes' ranging from 80 cc's to 200 cc's. The instructors advised us that by the end of the weekend, we would likely not be able to move the thumbs on our left hand and if we could we were not "doing it right" How exciting!

I left that evening incredibly afraid of the following day. "How did you talk me into this" I freaked on Cath. She assured me it would be fun, "What is the worst that could happen?"... We fail and lose our money. Happy Mothers Day to us!"

Saturday:
I am 5'8" with long legs, Cath on the other hand is 5' maybe and hers are short. I was able to chose any bike I wanted, Cathy tried many bikes and finally they brought the" baby" bike from the shed and she was able to plant one foot on the ground though not particularly convincingly. It was about 8 degrees with a stiff wind. We would never ride in this!

The course was beyond stressful but by day's end I was standing on the bike seat and riding around pylons.

'Yep," I thought, "this is how I intend to ride my new Yamaha."

Cathy, in a different group was becoming quite frustrated with her mount, barely able to touch the ground, and her instructor often hopped on the back to assist.

At one point the other token woman in her group, lost control, rode her bike up the side of a hill and promptly flew off the back. Men laughed. The instructor advised her that if she did that during the test she would fail. Gosh I hope so!

Sunday morning arrived, both Cathy and I were losing weight from stress and we couldn't move our left hands. Guess we were doing it right, huh? Cathy suggested this was a good diet plan. I wasn't so sure. I was a wreck! I didn't get any sleep with worry about our upcoming test.

A quick review and our instructors told us they would now put on their Ministry hats and stop speaking to us other than to call out our names when it was our turn.

We drew straws and I wasn't first. Hallelujah!

A young girl drew the first straw and off she went... Nerves got the better of her she drove over the solid lines, overshot her stop and went over the time limit. She was reduced to tears. She failed. Damn, she had been so good Saturday.

My turn came and I aced it! Well not exactly, I had room for one mistake, after all! I passed.

Cathy passed as well. Crippled, we drove off in the comfort of our car and we scratched one thing off the to-do list.

Oh, that lady that climbed the hill, she failed. Thank you, Lord.