When I was sixteen my mom decided that the price of car insurance was too high and it would be cheaper to get me a very low power motorcycle. Yes. She did. My mom was so cool.
We found a bike for four hundred dollars in the paper and went to go look at it in greater Port Colborne area. The bike was a very late model Honda 125CB... I think it was a 1978. This was back in the late eighties when girls could get dirt cheap bike insurance. It cost less than two hundred dollars for six months and provided me with freedom.
We had moved to the farm a few years ago and as a sixteen year old girl I was pining for a little transportation to get me around town and since mom was resigning as my official chauffeur this seemed like an affordable option. Mom made this decision fully aware of the dangers of motorcycles as she was an experienced trauma nurse from the emergency room when Columbus Hospital in Buffalo was a trauma hub. I don't know if it was trust, money, love or need; but she helped me buy that little Honda.
I rode regardless of weather and learned that at eighty km/hr rain feels like stinging needles on exposed skin. Even if they had all safety gear for bikes that exists today I couldn't afford it. I always wore jeans, boots and a leather or jean jacket. I was so cool.
My helmet was blue and came from the barn. I found it hiding in the hay loft and cleaned it up. It was a helmet without a faceshield, but it did cover my ears.
I rode that bike to work, school and to all my social events. I accepted that bad helmet hair was a fact of life. I knew my bike wasn't cool, but I felt like a rock star buzzing down Bowen Rd at a top speed of eight-five kms/hr with the wind in my face and bugs in my teeth.
The insurance ran out in October and I couldn't wait until May the following year to ride my bike. I managed to save my pennies and with a little help bought my mom's old car and put my motorcycle in the garage. I pulled it out now and then, but it was never the same glory ride as that first year.
Today, I still have a bike. I've been riding it back and forth to work this week and I look forward to feeling the temperature changes and hearing the hum of the engine. Today my bike is a 2004 BMW F650CS with less than 10,000 kms and we have a strong love affair. Today my bike makes me cool.
This may be the only bike I'll ever own, that's how much I love it. I bought it four years ago on a crazy whim and will never regret this purchase. Every time I wheel it out of the garage I get a warm feeling in my chest (often associated with impending doom) and a tingling in my throttle hand.
I'm more careful than when I was sixteen and now I wear all the safety gear: Full face shield, kevlar chaps, padded leather gloves and a padded joe rocket jacket. I'm not as invincible as I used to be...
On my ride to work this morning it was chilly, but I was dressed and ready. The breeze was light and the sun was coming up over the falls as I was rounding the hill on Portage road. This thought struck me: Wow! I work and live in a vacation spot, Niagara Falls: this is amazing. I drive past it and it still fills me with awe and wonder with it's raw power.
The combination of Niagara Falls and the bike never fails to have me arriving at work with a little grin on my face, a tingle in my belly and a spring in my step.
I'm very careful when I ride my bike. I'm a paramedic and have seen many bike accidents - most fatal. I know the dangers and life is worth a little risk now and then. I remember a man who was wearing only a skull cap lay his bike down and ride his face down a quarter mile of pavement. He had no nose by the end of the skid. I am fully aware, but want to enjoy this pleasure.
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