Just Like Riding a Bike...Be Specific

Have you ever heard the old saying, “It’s just like riding a bike!” which means that hypothetically, once you learn to ride a bicycle, you never un-learn. No matter how old you are you can just jump back on one and go. Notice I said “BI-cycle”. I did that on purpose because I don’t want you to confuse bike, the pedal kind, with bike, the motorcycle kind. I’m here to tell you there definitely is a difference. For me there is anyway.

            I grew up riding motorcycles. We had dirt bikes at our home in Grand Ledge where we rode them around the neighborhood and through the motorcross track that some of the guys made in a field behind our house. We also had dirtbikes at our family’s summer property in Grayling. We would ride those through the sandy fire trails near Camp Grayling. It was a blast! I never got to be an expert rider by any means. When the guys in our neighborhood would go flying over the jumps on the motorcross track I would putt around them. But I could hold my own.

            Fast forward to about 5 years ago. I had been on the back of Tom’s bike for about 10 years and got the bug to ride again. Basically, I was feeling a little sick of staring at the back of his helmet. My friend and I decided to take the basic rider course offered down at Ferris State in Big Rapids. It was a weekend course where we got reacquainted with the bikes and earned our cycle endorsements.  I have to admit that I was pretty rusty. OK, really rusty. It was like learning all over again. It seemed like when Tom got a motorcycle after 15 years, he just jumped on and off he went. Me? Not so much. I did have fun chuckling about a lady who said she only rode her motorcycle up and down her driveway. Ha! That wouldn’t be me. I was now “street legal” and had that little CY on my license to prove it. Shortly after that class we bought my VW Bug and the dream of owning my very own motorcycle was shelved.

            Here we are in 2015. The bug is gone and I’m the proud owner of a Harley-Davidson Sportster. I stood there and stared at it and wondered, “What was I thinking? I can’t ride that thing!” I actually had it delivered because I was afraied to drive it home. Here’s where we return to the “Just like riding a bike” saying. It wasn’t. First I watched the first ½ hour Tom’s “Ride Like a Pro” video to refresh my memory. 

            Lesson 1: Practice the friction-zone (a brake/clutch drill)

With my boots, jeans, leather coat, helmet, shatter-proof sunglasses and gloves, I got on my bike and started it up. Then I proceeded slowly-slowly down the driveway. Then I pushed-turned it around and went…back up the driveway…just like the lady from my class. It took me almost a week to get out of the neighborhood. But with lots of encouragement from Tom and some good-natured ribbing from our friend Dave, I made it around Lake Charlevoix on my maiden voyage. Just like riding a bike? No, not in the slightest. But fun? Oh heck yeah. Maybe you’ll see me out there. I’ll be the one cruisin’ into my 50’s on 2 wheels.

Another Letting Go Moment

There’s something incredibly terrifying about watching your son pull out of the driveway on a motorcycle. I watched both of my sons pull out of the driveway in a car on their first solo journeys. I wasn’t half as sick to my stomach as I was when I watched Sammy ride out on a motorcycle. Tom and I recently decided to take the advice of a man who suddenly lost his wife of 40 years. They had decided to wait until retirement to “live.” Sadly, because of brain cancer, she didn’t make it that far. We had been at his house looking at the motorcycle he had for sale. Since we sold the Bug the boys have been bugging Tom to get a motorcycle that they could ride. I wasn’t entirely convinced that it was the right time for me to get one, but if we got one, it would be my bike that they boys could ride if they wanted to. I had been happily riding on the back of Tom’s bike for 15 years and when asked if I ride would respond, “Oh, I have my endorsement.  I plan on it someday. Just not now.” When we left that guy shook my hand and got right up to me said, “Live your life.” I couldn’t get that guy’s sad eyes out of my mind. So I looked at Tom and said, “Let’s do it.” We found a little Harley-Davidson Sportster at Maxwell’s Cycle Shop in Petoskey and within three days it was sitting in our driveway. Robby was excited but Sammy was ecstatic. As soon as he found out he went out and got his permit and had been practicing on Tom’s big touring motorcycle while Tom gave him lessons on how to safely ride. He even watched all hour and 45 minutes of the Ride Like a Pro video and read through the safety course handbook that I sent him.

            “Can I take it out to show my friend?” “Puleeze!!”

            “He’s not going to just take off on it” I remember Tom saying.

            “Call your dad. If he feels confident that you’re ready, you can go.” He immediately called Tom at work. Pretty soon he had the ‘OK’ and was suiting up. I was a wreck.

            “Tie your shoes!”

            “Wear gloves!”

            “Assume everyone is going to pull out in front of you.”

            “Don’t hug the center line!”

            “Take your time.”

And then he was off. But like every other milestone in life, I had to let him go. We have had friends who have recently lost children, one to a motorcycle crash. It was a tragic reminder that it CAN happen to us. But I can’t keep him in a bubble. I have to say a prayer and try not to pace while I wait for him to get back. Terrifying or not, parenting is full of those letting go moments. This one just happens to be on a motorcycle.