A love affair between a girl…and her bike.
I fell in love with him from afar and didn’t expect it. This was new for me. This was scary, risky and many told me I was crazy. But there was something about that red; it was sexy and powerful. I wanted to feel that. I was at a time in my life feeling less than sexy, less than powerful but he stirred that in me. There was something inexplicably beautiful in the trellis that reminded me of bridges to new places. Where could that “bridge” take me?
Being the girl I am, I second-guessed EVERYTHING, so I started stalking to see if I was in for more than I could handle. I googled. I read a manual I found on the interwebs. I was worried he was too big. I was worried he was too fast. How could I ever think I could handle this? I researched, I learned. I dreamed of my hands on him. But I couldn’t do it. I could not make the first step.
Then it happened.
My partner in crime, the man who knows all of me says, “get in the car”. In typical fashion he will not tell me where we are going, but said to “bring some shoes”. By this time after over a decade of adventures together, I thought nothing of it. I thought a trip for beers, maybe a short hike?
Donald drives seemingly forever to the other side of Denver, down by the baseball stadium to the bike shop. Shit.
I was shaking. I was scared. But there he was, in all his glory. Surrounded by beautiful machines and all of the “real” riders. I got on nervously, with him still held by the rear stand. Even though he couldn’t fall over, I couldn’t hurt him I was still scared.
Little did I know, Donald had already asked a salesman for a test ride for me. I almost chicken out, I almost said no. But my smile told me to try. I had sucked up my second -guessing and gotten my endorsement only a month ago or so. I had ridden a bike around the block. I was not ready I told myself, and boy was I wrong.
Ride around the block. Just around the block. Yeah, sure on a brand new Ducati Monster 696 just around the block. I heard the bitch in my head; you’re just a girl, this isn’t a first bike, you don’t deserve this…but I did it. I rode around the block. Grinning so hard I did it twice.
That joy I felt must have radiated for miles. We’ll take him Donald says to the sales guy as soon as I make it back into the shop. My heart stops. My inner critic died a bit and I felt a moment of freedom and power. Red. Power. Sexy. Dangerous and mine!
But there was a catch, there is always a catch!
I could only take my bike home if there was a 100 miles on him, the brand new floor model. There was a wait list for this bike. It could be all summer before one was available. I could’ve talked myself right out of buying him at that moment. I heard that voice coming back to life…see I told you so, you’re not ready, you don’t deserve it. I hate that voice.
The universe conspires to bring you what you need; I truly believe it. I had dreamed of him. I had read a damn manual. I had never wanted any thing more and it was meant to be.
The salesman turned the key and the odometer read 101. My first bike was mine, Max was coming home with me.
It was the beginning of a new kind of love, the love between a girl and her bike.
Motorbiking has made me better, stronger and more determined. When you learn, you hear over and over to keep your chin up. What better metaphor could there be? Always, always keep your chin up. Max helped make me more confident, to embrace fear and push through, to feel the wind in my hair in every aspect of life. I want that for everyone.
Let’s make life a hell of a ride,