Experience #11 Riding a Motorcycle

Wind in your face and the freedom of the open road. All points brought up when riding a motorcycle is mentioned. For my next experience, I decided to check out the open highway and see if I was missing anything by keeping myself tightly cocooned in my car.

It isn’t actually too difficult to find someone in my family that owns a motorcycle. For years, I could have experienced this thrill, but I never had any inclination to try. I’d call it a personal preference to keep myself in one piece. Though my mom tells a story about riding a motorcycle at eight months pregnant with me, she wasn’t asking me at the time if I wanted to ride, so I don’t think it counts.

As a teenager, I had a terrifying experience on a four wheeler that led me to fear the falling off part. My cousin Scott, his girlfriend of the time, and I were riding on a four wheeler after a Mardi Gras parade in Gheens. He decided to let her drive, and as she jerked forward attempting to take off, I fell backwards off the back. Hanging on by the bars, I could feel my head grazing the blacktop road. It caused a great deal of alarm, but I was a teenager so we continued on our way not telling anyone what had happened to avoid getting into trouble. Avoiding trouble is always more of a priority to a teenager than safety, of course. (It’s a good thing our mothers don’t read this.)

So with my New Year’s resolution this year of trying the things that I fear, I decided to give it a try. I thought maybe I could get rid of the image in my head of having layers of my flesh scrapped off every time I sat on a motorcycle or four wheeler.

What I learned is that the image may be permanetly ingrained in my mind, ready to be recalled anytime my butt hits one of those uncomfortable seats. Scott and I rode through Lockport, and though I felt no fear as we zoomed down the highway, wind rushing at us like it hadwhen we were children riding in the back of the truck, I couldn’t help but think how messed up I’d be if we tilted too far or if we hit a rock the wrong way. I imagined scenerios of skidding across the road and pondered the possibilities of damages.

When did I go from thinking that nothing bad could happen to what are all the possible bad things that could happen? Did it happen after I left my teenage years behind or when I became a mother? I suppose it was gradual enough not be noticed.

Though it was exhilarating to have nothing between you and the outside world, speeding down the road, wind rushing at you, feeling unprotected, it was not a relaxing activity. If only I could get my imagination to quiet down of those graphic images it supplies as I watch the highway pass by, I may be able to completely enjoy the experience. Oh well, off to the next exeperience. I have many to go before the year ends.