Momentous Motorcycle Moments | Cindy says | ENTERTAINMENT
Momentous Motorcycle Moments
May/01/08 08:42 PM Filed in: Cindy says
Last week I signed up to take the Basic Riders
Course required for a motorcycle license. If you
have ever made this declaration then you know
that people respond differently. Friends are
either concerned that it’s dangerous, impressed
that it’s cool, or convinced that you’ll die. No
matter what anyone comments, this decision has
been years in the making and it’s mine.
Since my dad always looked out for his
little girl, he adamantly forbade me to get on
the back of a bike. Once when I was standing in
my uncle’s barnyard in Upstate New York, a guy
took the turn onto the bridge too fast. The
motorcycle made it, but he didn’t. His right leg
was broken back in an unnatural position right in
front of me. The ambulance took forever as he
screamed in pain then grew silent. We thought we
were losing him until they started to cut off his
jeans. He screamed, “I don’t have on any
underwear!” His worry over that detail assured us
that he was going to be fine. This situation
proved that my dad had good reason to discourage
motorcycles when the drivers were young and
irresponsible.
My dad’s rule was very much on my mind the first time my husband asked me to ride. We were only dating back then, but I trusted him. He would take me out over the mountains in rural Pennsylvania. Soaring over the hills with my arms around him was the most exhilarating feeling. I never wanted to let go.
After we had our first child, my husband took possession of one of his family’s bikes. With an authoritative attitude, I deemed the Washington, DC area too dangerous. As parents, it would be irresponsible for us both to get on a motorcycle. No need for my father’s warnings, my own apprehensions were taking precedent. My husband suggested I get a license. He rightly surmised that if I was on my own bike, I would agree to ride. Although an enticing idea, I was soon pregnant with our second son and it didn’t happen.
Last year I signed up for the motorcycle course but had to cancel because my husband took a different year-long work detail and we had to go away that week. Fighting a strong feeling that the cancellation would be the end of it, I promised myself that in a year I would take the course. Now I’m signed up four months in advance, waiting for my reward.
Besides my concern about starting and controlling the motorcycle, the little voice in my head is very much warning me to be careful. Even so, there’s no doubt that my time to hit the road on two wheels is finally arriving. Who knows where I’ll travel?
My dad’s rule was very much on my mind the first time my husband asked me to ride. We were only dating back then, but I trusted him. He would take me out over the mountains in rural Pennsylvania. Soaring over the hills with my arms around him was the most exhilarating feeling. I never wanted to let go.
After we had our first child, my husband took possession of one of his family’s bikes. With an authoritative attitude, I deemed the Washington, DC area too dangerous. As parents, it would be irresponsible for us both to get on a motorcycle. No need for my father’s warnings, my own apprehensions were taking precedent. My husband suggested I get a license. He rightly surmised that if I was on my own bike, I would agree to ride. Although an enticing idea, I was soon pregnant with our second son and it didn’t happen.
Last year I signed up for the motorcycle course but had to cancel because my husband took a different year-long work detail and we had to go away that week. Fighting a strong feeling that the cancellation would be the end of it, I promised myself that in a year I would take the course. Now I’m signed up four months in advance, waiting for my reward.
Besides my concern about starting and controlling the motorcycle, the little voice in my head is very much warning me to be careful. Even so, there’s no doubt that my time to hit the road on two wheels is finally arriving. Who knows where I’ll travel?