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Together we rise above
I was feeling sorry for her. She had been sitting all alone in the garage since last Sunday when I “gracefully” put her on her side in a 30-something mph curve during the first rain after a very dry season. Since that day, she’s been mulling the incident over, wondering if there was anything she could have done differently… feeling that it was her fault. The day it happened, I remember apologizing to her for the wounds she received on her right side. Nothing was broken, but she suffered some pretty decent road rash on her extremities. All cosmetic stuff. Her windscreen will never be the same and her right saddlebag has some bald spots. She could never keep up with her friend, the XS1100, but she was a trooper and did the best she could with what she had. She didn’t want the fun to be over and was hoping for another chance.
Yesterday was a day of reckoning for me. It was time to face those thoughts and feelings that could, if left unattended, turn into demons. Inventory was taken. Some adjustments needed to be made to get her road worthy. Straightening handlebars, tightening the wind screen, adjusting the right hand controls…wiping off dirt… little things. Afterward, she needed to be taken out and ridden by someone who knew what to watch for in unexpected behavior, to make sure that she was okay. She was. With that task complete, we forged ahead to work out the mental kinks that were attempting to settle in my rattled head.
Putting on my gear, I noticed a slight increase in my adrenalin level. The apprehension was undeniable. I wanted this, but I was, nevertheless, a little nervous about it. I needed to learn to differentiate between riding on wet, oily, slick roads and nice, clear, dry roads. I wanted to feel the freedom of riding again… a freedom that was still so new to me before the incident. I was still in the discovery stages of the joy and excitement riding a motorcycle brings. I didn’t want to lose it so soon after finding it. I was determined.
I realized halfway up the gravel drive that I was holding my breath. Reaching the road was a relief… but short lived. The first turn was frightening… slow, deep breaths. We were moving at a snail’s pace, but I felt shaky. For the first few minutes, I felt as though I was starting from scratch. The trust was gone. Fortunately, the feeling didn’t last. As the road stretched out in front of us and I was faced with those first few curves, I began to regain what I thought I might have lost. It was still tentative, and may be for a while… but the pleasure of leaning into a curve is still present within me. After navigating several of them successfully, I found myself smiling inside my helmet.
Our first ride was short but sweet. It accomplished an important step in my “recovery”. That old saying about getting right back on the horse is true. What happened to me could happen to anybody. For some more experienced riders, it might not even be that big of a deal. To me it was. The good news is that I learned some lessons last Sunday that were relatively inexpensive both monetarily and physically… and apparently emotionally as well. I will always ride with protective gear and I will always be extremely respectful of wet or unusual road conditions.
Meri
Yesterday was a day of reckoning for me. It was time to face those thoughts and feelings that could, if left unattended, turn into demons. Inventory was taken. Some adjustments needed to be made to get her road worthy. Straightening handlebars, tightening the wind screen, adjusting the right hand controls…wiping off dirt… little things. Afterward, she needed to be taken out and ridden by someone who knew what to watch for in unexpected behavior, to make sure that she was okay. She was. With that task complete, we forged ahead to work out the mental kinks that were attempting to settle in my rattled head.
Putting on my gear, I noticed a slight increase in my adrenalin level. The apprehension was undeniable. I wanted this, but I was, nevertheless, a little nervous about it. I needed to learn to differentiate between riding on wet, oily, slick roads and nice, clear, dry roads. I wanted to feel the freedom of riding again… a freedom that was still so new to me before the incident. I was still in the discovery stages of the joy and excitement riding a motorcycle brings. I didn’t want to lose it so soon after finding it. I was determined.
I realized halfway up the gravel drive that I was holding my breath. Reaching the road was a relief… but short lived. The first turn was frightening… slow, deep breaths. We were moving at a snail’s pace, but I felt shaky. For the first few minutes, I felt as though I was starting from scratch. The trust was gone. Fortunately, the feeling didn’t last. As the road stretched out in front of us and I was faced with those first few curves, I began to regain what I thought I might have lost. It was still tentative, and may be for a while… but the pleasure of leaning into a curve is still present within me. After navigating several of them successfully, I found myself smiling inside my helmet.
Our first ride was short but sweet. It accomplished an important step in my “recovery”. That old saying about getting right back on the horse is true. What happened to me could happen to anybody. For some more experienced riders, it might not even be that big of a deal. To me it was. The good news is that I learned some lessons last Sunday that were relatively inexpensive both monetarily and physically… and apparently emotionally as well. I will always ride with protective gear and I will always be extremely respectful of wet or unusual road conditions.
Meri
). It was a little out of my price range and not quite enough power, so I kept looking. 
, was able to pull bike to left to clear the car hood/windshield as it drove by 
!
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