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Taking it to the Streets

After a stressful motorcycle test, Cath and I emerged victorious as fully licensed motorcyclists. Watch out everyone because we're taking to the streets!

You would think that after passing the Motorcycle Training Course, I would be anxious to get out there and ride. You would be wrong! I had to be convinced that riding on a street was much the same as riding at the Conestoga College parking lot …round and round. Just add a few transport trucks here and there and hundreds of cars. Yes, I see the similarities.

My husband took me out riding a few evenings and for the most part, I think I was progressing pretty well. A week or so after I got my new license, we decided to go out for a quick ride. Wayne pulled his bike out onto the street from the garage waited for me to follow him.

"All right", I said "but could you turn it around for me so that I am actually facing the street? Backing out seems daunting."

That is one, oh no, two of the reasons I got married after all: trash and backing up motorcycles.

Wayne turned the bike in the garage for me and I was ready to go. He hopped on his bike and rolled up the street.

Give a little gas in first gear and turn to the right at the bottom of the drive. It seemed simple enough. Apparently there is a moment in bike ergonomics where you need to give a little more gas than I was or the momentum of the bike takes over. I felt it go to the right and five hundred fifty pounds was on its way to the ground. Thankfully with my long legs I was able to casually step away and off as it hit the pavement. Wayne, who was waiting a couple of hundred feet up the street glanced in his rear view mirror and saw me disappear from view. He parked his bike and rushed over. "Sorry about that, Honey", I said quite calmly "I tried to drop it gently".

While all this was going on my neighbor across the street was enjoying her tea and the sideshow at the Wilton residence. She was polite and never made a comment. The embarrassment on my face was enough, I suppose.

Wayne picked my bike up for me. I rationalized that this was, after all, his entire fault. It wouldn't have happened if he had just pulled my bike onto the road.

An hour later, we returned and the neighbor was still out enjoying the evening and casually strolled over with an immense grin across her face.

She asked if both Cathy, my neighbor a few doors down, and I had taken the same course. She chuckled that it had been quite an evening. Cathy and her husband, Chris, had gone for a ride slightly before us. She proceeded. Unfortunately, when she reached the bottom of her driveway, she tried to turn right and dropped her bike."

"That darn momentum thing must have happened to her, too!" I stated, matter of factly.

"Ooh," she said, "it gets better."

"When they returned to the driveway after their ride, Cath dumped it again going into the drive. At that point, she left it right where it fell and yelled at Chris that she'd had enough. He could come and get the bleeping bike."

We gals need more practice, I supposed determined to try again.

My next plan was for Cath and I to drive together for our next spin, without the husbands. Perhaps the fellas made us nervous.

Fortunately, we made it out of the drive and onto the street without incident….Yes, we were actually riding.

I led the ride through the outskirts of town and into the rolling countryside of Waterloo County. Mennonite children in buggies waved as we passed by. "This is what it supposed to feel like, riding in the heart of Mennonite country, the wind blowing gentle farm fragrances for us to enjoy and patchworks of fields all around," I thought with satisfaction.

No problem! We had it down.

We came back into town and two blocks from home, it happened.

I was stopped at a corner to turn right. Cath eased up behind me. I pulled out and kept an eye on my friend in the mirror. To my horror, she gave the bike gas and it took off across the intersection, up the driveway of a home on the opposite side of the street. Still increasing speed, she maneuvered the bike down the sidewalk, off the next driveway, back across the street, and into the proper lane on the proper side of the road. All before releasing the throttle and coming to a stop!

Whoa! I was so stunned that I gasped in disbelief before hollering at her to release the throttle.

"OH MY GOD, Cathy, are you alright"? I screamed.

"Not a word of this…" was all she could manage.

By now I was convulsed laughing. I will admit that I am not kind at times.

The mother and son in the vehicle behind us at the intersection were no doubt having a heated conversation about how he would never be allowed to ride a motorcycle. Poor guy!

Somehow, we composed ourselves and in first gear, rode home.
Oh, by the way, we didn't drop the bikes pulling into the driveways.

Pretty good, eh?