When we started dating, I enjoyed riding on Sean's motorcycle. At the time, he had a different bike than pictured above. Since we've been together he's had a total of four bikes. But riding on whatever bike he had at the time was fun, a cheap way to go a long distance and as long as I wore sunscreen I could get a pretty decent tan. But for two years now, I've tried not to get on it. It started to scare me. I guess it's become one of those things I used to enjoy but now I'm afraid of (like flying or scary movies or roller coasters). Because I don't offer to go on it, Sean rides less than he would if I enjoyed it. He claims it's not as fun to be alone.
In the fall and winter, Sean keeps his motorcycle in his parent's garage because we don't have one. Since we're making the payments on it, just for it to sit in a garage, we figured it was time to get it, bring it to our house, and ride it when the weather cooperates. For two months, he's been watching the weather to see when a good time would be for him to bring his bike to our house to keep for the summer. Unfortunately, every day has included t-storms but we'll be moving into August in no time and soon after that it'll be fall again. Which means -- it's time.
We have to ignore what the weather apps tell us and brave the storm (if one should pop-up). So on Thursday night, we got his motorcycle. He followed behind me in my car back to our house. It's about 30 minutes, mostly on the highway. That's when I realized: it's more nerve-wracking to watch someone you love on a motorcycle than it is to be on the back of the bike itself.
Every time someone cut in front of him, my heart sank. Every time someone edged out of a side street and tried to cut in front of him, my heart sank. When I saw people swerve into his lane, way too close, my heart sank. I wanted to yell out my window "REALLY?!" or some other choice words. I looked back in my rear view mirror way more than usual just to check on him. Is his still there?
When we woke up on Sunday, Sean asked if I wanted to go for a bike ride. I was still sort of sleeping and I thought he meant bicycles, which I do not know how to ride, so I hesitated. Once I realized what he meant, I hesitated more but decided to suck it up. It's been two years. We got ready, and set out for a ride. Surprisingly, it wasn't that bad. It was actually pretty fun. I'm slightly sore, because Ducati's aren't the most comfortable mode of transportation for passengers but I did get a tan. I know you're supposed to wear long-sleeves, all in the name of safety, and I know it's stupid to say "it was really hot" -- but it was. I wore long pants, and flip-flops (I know, that's really bad, also).
As nerve-wracking as it was to watch him ride behind me, it was equally frustrating to be on the bike and have people cut us off, try to cut us off, brake quickly for no reason, brake quickly for no reason without having brake lights, swerve into our lane, etc. All those things are aggravating when you're driving in a car but at least you have something protecting you. On a motorcycle, all you have is a helmet; and let's be honest -- that's like wearing your seat belt on an airplane. If something happens... well.
All in all it was a good day. We went out to breakfast, drove up a mountain, and it didn't rain on us. I'm calling it a success -- maybe next weekend, we'll do it again.