I rode my motorcycle in the rain this weekend. It was the first time since I’ve been riding that I got caught in a full on down pour — no rain gear — no bridges to hide under — no sanctuary in sight. I had to just keep going.
So I did. I rode through the cloud burst for a couple miles to the other side of it, got completely soaked — I think my boots are STILL wet — and had a very cold ride home for the next half hour or so. Riding in the rain is never my choice. But I’ll cope.
Am I crazy? Courageous? Certifiable? Senile? Stubborn?
I guess it depends on where you put The Line.
I got my motorcycle license at age 53. My first bike came shortly there after. And then — a bigger bike. Because — faster. Duh.
However, even for a biker chick, I am on the cautious side. I rarely ride in the God-Awful-Commuter-Traffic around where I live. I head out of town ASAP on the open country roads or highways that lead AWAY from people and their stupidity. I also tend to ride mostly on Sunday mornings, when most all the people are in church. Again — hardly anyone on the roads. And I never ride at night. Motorcycle riding is my hobby, not my main mode of transportation. If I have to be out after dark — I’m in a cage.
The one between courage and crazy.
We all have one. That sweet spot between the joy of adventure and it’s exhilaration and “Oh Hell — what have I done?!’”(The question I asked myself repeatedly as I rode through the torrential downpour.)
There is stuff on the other side of my line. Sky diving for instance. Yep. Never gonna happen. Ever. And I do mean fucking ever. I love to fly and there is no reason in hell I’m getting out of a perfectly good plane before the ride is over. Nope.
Most of my friends think getting a motorcycle when you can qualify for AARP discounts is pretty insane. But they do crazy things like dating men that I find equally audacious.
Like I said, it’s all about where you put The Line.