thought#1
Ok….things are getting easier or maybe they just seem more natural like using a potholder when u know the pan it hot. I can smoothly take off now and actually come to a stop without the fragile tipsy shake that was ever present earlier on the actual solid stop. I was told, by an MSF instructor I met on the road, that putting both feet down on a stop was a sign of a newbie and dog forbid that I wanna be judged that except behind closed doors….so one foot goes down while the other begs permission to be set earthbound. But no, stay damn u…on that peg and look cool. Gary told me today that my stops were looking smooth…hooray!! I must be making progress.
Today’s trip was another long one clocked in at 154 miles. We went to Kyberz off Hwy 50, however we did it the looonngg way! Through some of the most fantastic country I have seen…wow…breathtaking. We rode through Fiddletown once again, but this time headed to Hwy 88 traversing the old gold rush territory. We took a cut off road through what was probably an old horse trail, narrow but well paved and lots of twisties and skirting a lazy river. The air was chilly, why didn’t I wear long sleeves under my joe rocket bee coat…damn gotta remember that for the next mountain ride.
Fiddletown
Beautiful scenery, wow, ZAP….ouch what the heck was that…..oww, the little skin showing between my helmet and jacket has just been attacked by either a bee or some other insect….burn…owwww…So the bee jacket is now attracting like kind…great. Keep riding and forget it girl, or try honking that baby horn and getting g’s attention…no go…this horn sucks. Keep riding and forget it…doesn’t hurt, doesn’t hurt. Ok…I gotta see, did this insect go into my jacket?? Shades of some anime horror film. I stop, get off, lose my helmet and voila, my neck has a welt the size of my first high school hicky…and damn it is red and sore. I guess it was a bee, but who knows. I dig through my saddle bags and make note that a first aid kit with hydrocortisone cream would be a good future investment and here I thought the moisturizer that I did have with me was the answer to all my skin troubles. Ok…onward.
After 100 miles we stop for a bite and get a disillusioned vet who gave us a great lunch and plenty of political opinion. Twas nice to chat with a bright and cheerful ex-Texan patriot who can’t understand the present administration. I can only nod and agree, sadly.
Now to tackle Hwy 50. I ride the highway on my little rebel like I own the world. Hitting speeds of 70. She is cruisin….my little Jezabel and I am riding her.
Ahhhhhhh, I love my motorcycle, the wind and the road.
thought#2
Sun!! At least a few rays danced over the top of my helmet as I took Rebel Jez out for a ride, the first real ride in a few weeks. My path took me on one of my first real moto-trail rides from Folsom, into the foothills of Highway 49 to Coloma on to Auburn and then looping back to Folsom. As I rode this banner beginner bike, I pondered my abilities in handling this machine.
I recalled my first ride’s careful consideration on entering each curve, my entry speed, my path of outside inside outside, then lean…whoa…no way!!!
I recall my first stop on a hill and attempted take off as the cars lined up behind me adding to my already heightened paranoid state. I also recall the first time I misjudged my stop and almost dropped Jez…she was not at all happy with me.
Well, time and many miles have put us on much better terms. I ride now with a glowing confidence. The glow doesn’t blind me mind you, but has an air of experience.Today I rode with a smile the entire sixty-six mile ride and returned home chilled but exhilarated. I took on the twisties between Cool and Auburn like I was a “rider”. I didn’t wither on the turns but instead greeted them with enthusiasm. I could actually lean into each curve and feel like I controlled my machine!! What an epiphany!! I am a motorcycle rider!!
