Several years ago, while I was still working, I just happened to see a flyer advertising a class that taught motorcycle riding. YAHOOO. I had no idea there was such a thing. Oh, I was so excited I couldn't work the rest of the day. Oh, I worked for the State and you know what they say about government work.
The class was to be taught at the Community College which was 30 miles, round trip from my house. I called, registered and was accepted. Oh My God -- Excitement took over my whole body (quite alot of excitement, trust me). I went up and down the hall telling everyone at work, they were so happy for me and wondered about my health insurance and was it paid up. Nothing like a smart ass to ruin the moment. They were only kidding since everyone knows I'm a good time.
The information I received said the first night would be introduction to safety and a movie. I was going to need boots, gloves and a jacket. Well I would worry about supplies later. The night arrived and I listened to so much grief from home about how stupid I was and did I have a death wish? I would probably be the oldest person there and what was "wrong with me"? Oh, tweak my buttons will ya -- I will go or die now.
So the night arrived and I hit the road and sang all the way to the school. Oh My God, my heart was pounding. I was popping my gum and almost bit my tongue off. As I enter the building I saw a woman younger than me, with hair almost to her waist and she had on black biker boots with buckles and black jeans. I am in heaven. She gives me a look and says are you here for the motorcycle class? Well, the smart ass that I am, I clench both fists and make a noise like I'm revving my Harley. That was a No No. She advised there would be none of that. Instant dislike and I knew I was gonna fail. God, who fails a class where you learn to ride a bike? Who? What am I gonna say, the teacher didn't like me? Right.
I rush past her and take a seat. I chose a seat right in the middle of what looked like 40-50 year old bikers. Wait, they can't be bikers I thought, bikers know how to ride. These guys gave me the once over and said "Hey, howya doing". I grinned really big and said GREAT. They asked if I had a bike? No, I didn't, I told them. Then they wanted to know if I was going to get a bike. No, I don't think so, I answered. "Well what the hell you doing here" they asked? One of those guys only had 3 front teeth and he had a blue bandanna around his head and lots of tattoos. I told them I loved motorcycles and always had and that Harleys were my favorite. They advised that a "little lady like me ought to get 'erself a bike." I started agreeing with them.
The woman with the long hair and a pudgy man in leather pants comes in and starts the class. Everyone has to introduce themselves. GOD I HATE THAT. There is no point in doing that because you are never going to see them again. Also we are to tell if we have ever ridden a bike and if we are doing this to get our permits or the reason. If you take this class and YOU PASS, then you can go to the DMV hand over your certificate that says you passed and you get your permit -- how easy can that be. No test, no practice run, no nothing. So if I pass, I go get a permit and don't even have to buy or rent a bike. GREAT. My husband will die. YES!!!
So we watch a movie and learn safety points and then take a test and ask questions if there are any. It was a 3 hour class. I was so sleepy. The guys were asking me how I liked it and telling me how much fun I was gonna have riding tomorrow. They all rode bikes, dirt bikes, motorcycles, 4-wheelers, and "man it's sumthin."
The next day was Saturday and the class started at 7 a.m. I had no decent shoes to wear, no jeans (I never wore jeans) and no gloves (remember I am really hot natured). So I find a pair of hiking boots I bought to walk to work in on snow days that would do. I found an old pair of garden gloves, that would work. I wore a silk button up shirt that looked good. I was ready to rock n roll. Jumped in the car with my supplies and sang all the way to School. OH GOD MY HEART BE STILL. When I parked my car I saw all these bikes lined up in the parking lot. I wanted to run as fast as I could but I had on hiking boots and would probably trip and fall. Took my time, ambled over like I'd been around bikes all my life.
The teacher with the LONG HAIR said for everyone to join her in a circle (high school, right). We would be issued a helmet and then we could go stand beside a bike. Oh God, someone would beat me to my bike. I wanted my helmet first, I'm older than anyone there - then it hit me -- she doesn't like me. Hell, I will be last and probably not even get a bike.
I finally get into the trailer to get my helmet. MAJOR PROBLEM. I have forgotten to tell you all, I WEAR HEARING AIDS. Well, you can't wear hearing aids with a helmet. Hmmm, I can't really hear very well without my aids. Well there are small holes in front of where your ears fit inside the helmet. Right, like I will be able to hear. Oh God, I'm sweating. The guy is fitting me with a helmet and I know someone is getting my damn bike. God, the guy in the LEATHER PANTS (other teacher) is ripping my damn head off. He said something, I couldn't hear. I look at him and he says "You have a big head." GREAT. I'm now deaf as a door knob, sweat is running and staining the silk shirt, underarms are soaked and I have a BIG HEAD. Two more fittings and one fits me. I run like hell down the ramp out of the trailer. Thank God, my bike is there. I want to hug it. I don't dare. I stand there like I have ridden for years.
The excitement is killing me. Nobody else is acting like me and I am trying to calm down. LONG HAIR walks out front and all I know is I see her mouth moving. Oh Shit - I can't hear. I have on my garden gloves and have to take them off to unbuckle the helmet and almost rip both ears off trying to get the helmet off. Well that really didn't help that much, my hearing aids are in my pocket. I raise my hand and tell LONG HAIR that I can't hear her. She tells me to walk up there near her. GREAT. Now I know everyone is looking at me. Back has to be wet and bra straps showing thru silk by now. I learned we are going to straddle our bikes (YES) and then we are going to walk them to the other side of the parking lot, turn them around, walk them back to where we are right now. Then we will do it all over again -- piece of cake. Big deal.
My son, and everyone at the office had threatened to come videotape this class. Oh God, I wish they had. I know you all are not going to believe this story. It is so true, I want to cry.
So the bike is on my right side and I am holding the handlebars with both hands and I'm proud. I turn my body and attempt to throw my right leg over the bike. I had no idea the bikes were so heavy. Thank God I had a good grip or it could have been really ugly and I would have made a scene. Finally got the leg over w/o help and straddled the bike. Oh God, my thighs hurt so bad. Oh, I haven't even moved and I wonder if this is like a groin pull? Suck it up, you're a biker I think to myself. Ok I'm ready. LONG HAIR blows a damn whistle and starts waving her arms in the air like she's at a race track. Everyone takes off like they are at a race track too. Hell my feet will barely touch the ground, hold up, wait a minute. I think my crotch is too short or something. I must need a shorter bike cause I can't keep up. They are way ahead of me now and I am toeing as fast as I can. My Achilles are killing me. And, what the hell does this have to do with riding a motorcycle. I am never going to push it anyway, I have AAA.
As I finally get to the other side, everyone else is back to the beginning and I know what they are thinking, "this is the slow kid"...you know, remember in high school....
Also, I forgot to mention that those guys that were so friendly with me. They didn't choose the 7 a.m. class. So I don't know anyone in this class and most of them are young, virile guys. There are a couple of girls maybe in their early 20's and they know how to ride.
Okay, so back to the parking lot and pushing that damn way tooo tall motorcycle back and forth. Now this is the good part. They have to wait at least 30 minutes for me before they can move on to the next part of class. I get there finally, crotch on fire and I want ice and Advil and can't tell anyone. Next part of class is to start your bike. GREAT, finally, today, start that sucker and forget your crotch. So LONG HAIR said why don't we all take a break and get a drink or use the bathroom before we move one. THANK GOD. I really needed that break.
Break is over and my hair is pasted on my head, so sad and yet so funny. Girls in the bathroom did not make eye contact with me even though I tried to carry on a conversation with them.
Hurry, Hurry get the leg over and start your engines (I'm thinking to myself). This time LONG HAIR is at the other end and I have guy in LEATHER PANTS at my end. He is whispering, I swear to GOD, he's whispering. Off comes the garden gloves, unbuckle the helmet, pull the helmet off to hear him. He says turn the key and hold in the starter button. Okay, got it. Helmet goes on, buckle it up, put the wet gloves on and the damn key won't turn. I hear rumbling all around me. I'm not hearing that great sound from my bike. The one I coveted. My teacher has walked away everyone but me is having fun. LEATHER PANTS finally turns around and I raise my hand. You could tell what he was thinking. I told him my key wouldn't work.
Panic, LONG HAIR AND LEATHER PANTS, heads together, back to the trailers. There are 4 more bikes in the trailer. Only 1 has a key that will work. It is not a bike similar to mine. So whomever has a bike identical to mine is going to be asked to trade -- well they find out it's a NINJA BIKE (a crotch rocket). There are 4 takers. YAYY. Everyone is happy again.
It's time to boogie. Riders start your engines. That's what LONG HAIR said, I think. Anyway, I started. We then learned how to find neutral gear with our left foot and how to give it gas with our right hand on the handle bar, brakes on our left handlebar. So while we sit still we practice shifting gears and I think that the seam on the top of my Hiking Boots may be interfering with my being able to tell if I'm in gear, but I will wait and see. So we practice and we practice and we are ready. We are told to form two lines, side by side. Go very, very, very, slow says LONG HAIR. I hope that I don't run over someone (with LONG HAIR).
Thank goodness I'm not first in line, since I can't hear squat. I will be playing follow the leader. We are directed to go slow, and to do a figure 8. At last, a breeze, I felt a breeze on my face. I am actually riding a bike. I cannot quit smiling and I wish someone was videotaping me. So we all do the figure 8 over and over and "damn I'm good". So then we are directed back to the starting line. As LONG HAIR gives instructions, LEATHER PANTS sits up leather cones. Hmmm, this could get ugly.. Hell, I can do it, I just did a figure 8.
Before the cones, we practice going really fast in a square, pretend there is an intersection, the other group is doing the same thing and we are at a crossroads. Someone is gonnna forget to stop or forget who has the right-of-way or something. We do that several times and we are supposed to be speeding and slowing and speeding and slowing and braking. I find myself braking with my feet, I forget the brakes are on my handle bars, and I hope nobody sees and I try to go slower and remember where the hell they are. I am pretty good slowing down with my feet though. That Ain't Right...
Line up, directions are given to those who are not HEARING IMPAIRED and I am playing follow the leader again. So we weave in and out and in and out and damn it's a good breeze and I'm going faster. Obviously, I'm not going fast enough for LONG HAIR. She starts blowing that damn whistle at me and flogging her arms and I'm grinning and riding towards her. As I go around her she says "GO FASTER, FASTER". She is trying to kill me, I know that for sure now.
Cones are being removed as we head back around for another go and I see my group lining again. Hmmm, missed that command but I will follow my group. Being deaf is a bitch. So now we are going to be going even faster and in between each other. Holy Shit someone could get hurt. LONG HAIR and LEATHER PANTS are on their big Harleys showing us how it is done. Speed up, sharp right, sharp left and in between another biker. Sweat has started up again, down the face and ears now. So we are lined up to go, guys are going yea, they wanted to do a high 5, you could just tell.
LONG HAIR and LEATHER PANTS park their hogs and walk over to get us started. Start your engines, put it in neutral, I was with them so far, as the person in front of me took off the seam in the top of my hiking boot got hung under the shifter and I couldn't undo it and as I tried to lift up with my left foot, my right foot came off the pavement and the bike turned over on top of me. I wasn't hurt and nobody behind me was going anywhere and LONG HAIR and the guy behind me were helping me up. She wanted to know if I was hurt. I said just my pride. She said you should never have worn those boots. I don't think you can even feel the gears shift. Lowwwww Blowwwww. That was the end of class. We were all reminded to be there at 7 a.m. on Sunday to take our exam.
Guess who had decided prior to falling over (weebles wobble) that she would not be there on Sunday. Guess who really had a groin pull now. You got it. ME! I returned my helmet and walked to my car with helmet hair, a really red face and a damp silk shirt. I ran into the guys I had met the first night. They told me they had seen me riding and I looked damn good on that bike. I asked if that was before or after I let the bike fall on me. They laughed and laughed and laughed. They thought I was kidding. I assured them I wasn't. They slapped me on the back and said see ya tomorrow girl.
Wonder if they ever figured it out -- what happened to that sweaty fat girl?
Happy Trails
P.S. I took the test on line a week later and I passed. Too late, no certificate.
