Uneasy Rider (Takin' It To The Streets)

I'm posting a little late because I'm still picking bugs out of my teeth and soul patch after last night's inaugural ride. It's not that I was going fast enough to kill any bugs, I think they had become depressed with their lot in life and chose my face as the location for their self inflicted demise.

Pulling into the parking lot, I was filled with an explosive mix of excitement and dread. I could see all the motorcycles lined up outside a rusty storage trailer and I knew that it was time to pull on my big biker panties and saddle up or tuck my non chaps wearing tail between my legs and scurry off into the night like a wee lass. Big biker panties was the call. First I had to choose a helmet from inside the shed. Knowing that my head is on the large side, (I maintain it's because I have a big brain) I looked for a dome protector that would sufficiently cover my noggin'. I tried on a full face helmet and was immediately overcome by claustrophobia. That took all of seven seconds. After trying on a few more helmets of varying sizes and styles, I settled on a "3/4 helmet" in biker appropriate black. Now that my head was protected, I needed a reason to protect it. I needed a bike.

I surveyed the rag tag collection of bikes that was available and tried to picture myself astride one that was big enough to keep me from looking like the famous picture in the Guinness Book of World Records of the fat guy on the mini bike. The instructor informed me that the Kawasaki Hybrid Street/Dirt bike was the tallest and would probably be more suitable for the "big guys" so that was to be my steed. The class spent about 20 minutes getting familiar with our bikes. We reviewed where all the controls were, how to properly mount and dismount the bikes and the signals the instructors would use to communicate with us. All I kept thinking during this period of time was, "Please don't let me die on the first night." Finally we were able to mount our bikes. Away we go, right? Nope. We just reviewed how to start the machines and then we got to start the motorcycles. After the initial excitement of ignition we were told to turn off the engines, dismount and start walking. There is nothing as odd as watching 12 people walk motorcycles across two parking lots. We were a parade of wannabes, looking forward to future biking glory.

The next three hours were spent trying not to crash. That may be a bit dramatic. We started with the "straddle walk", which is getting used to EASING (capitalization at the request of the instructors and to remind myself that hard squeezing is never good whether on a motorcycle or when picking produce) out the clutch. We did a few other beginning drills to let those of us who were true novices get the feel of the bikes. After a while, it was time for the first drill where we would actually be riding with our feet up. I felt like Leonardo DiCaprio hanging from the from of the Titanic (hopefully not foreshadowing a future crash) as I picked up my feet and headed down the range. I think that I did OK, except for one brief mistake that garnered me my first biking injury. I misunderstood the teachers directions and in my haste to correct myself popped the clutch causing the bike to lurch forward like a wild stallion. The foot peg, caught my inner calf and caused a mid level scratch. If that's as bad as things get, bring it on.

My biggest problem of the night was my excessive production of bodily fluid. By the time we had walked our bikes to the range and finished a few laps of "straddle walking", I was sweating like Albert Brooks in Broadcast News. Streams of sweat were pouring from my helmet like the impact absorbing liner was actually a water balloon that had burst. My glasses were covered in sweat and I knew I couldn't take my helmet off every 30 seconds to wipe my head Pavarotti style. Thankfully I had brought a bandanna with me for just such an occasion. I wrapped it around my head "Aunt Jamima" style and plunked the helmet back on my damp dome. it worked like a charm and gave me the added look of a seasoned bike when I removed my helmet. Win, win.

I'm running late, so I'll have to give you more details tomorrow. I think we're doing some "maximum straight line stopping" today. That sounds pretty bad ass doesn't it. Later...Brian