Learn to Ride a Motorcycle

Growing up, I don’t know that I had much interest in learning to ride. I’m not sure that I even considered the notion of actually learning. My uncles and grandfather rode. In my early 20’s, my dad ended up getting a motorcycle as well. I still hadn’t considered it.

I remember getting rides on the back of my dads bike. It felt good. The wind, the connection to your surroundings vs being in a metal bubble that takes away some of that feel of being in the moment.

Even on the back of my dad’s bike, I had a nagging fear of gravel and the tires slipping. The nagging fear of falling off the back of the bike as well.

After my father died, his bike ended up going to my sister. She couldn’t ride it, neither could her husband. My dads bike was too big and too heavy. A Yamaha Roadstar 1800. I could barely lift it off its stand, much less, touch the ground with both feet when sitting on it.

My husband is a big guy. I don’t mean wide either. He is over 6ft tall and gets to paint the ceilings and reach things down off the top shelf. I say ‘get to paint the ceiling like that is a win. – its really not.’ Either way, he’s a big guy. Don had been wanting a motorcycle for a while and this was a great opportunity.

I struck a deal with him. If he quit smoking we would get him dad’s bike. As you can see – He quit smoking. Very proud of him for this. I’m writing this 10 years after the fact and he, still, is not smoking! I’m pretty sure that is a huge win!

Below are videos of him riding the motorcycle the first time. A couple grand later and we added a motorcycle to our insurance policy and an endless amount of worry about his safety.

I am not sure I seen him so happy riding around on that motorcycle.

After a while, I got the itch. I wanted to ride with Don, and I wanted to learn to ride as a way to connect with my dad. So, I learned!

We started the search for a cheap bike that would accommodate my fairly short legs. That went on for a while, but we finally found a Virago 750. That bike was ugly! But it was cheap and it was a great option to find out if I would even like riding.

After getting a bath and de-uglifying the bike a bit, my old man got to work on teaching me how to ride. This man is nothing if he isn’t patient.

Soon after learning how to ride from my husband, I enrolled into a safety course and got my endorsement. I loved it at first, but I was nervous, always nervous. The least bit of gravel and my entire behind would be eating my seat! HOLD ON FOR DEAR LIFE! because I knew that there were only 2 patches of tire on the ground and if one hit something it didn’t like, I’d be sliding or flying and I couldn’t get that out of my head.

I went on several rides with friends, to and from work, around town. I had one instance where the ground was covered in car oil and I couldn’t stop – slid right through a red light. Scared the living crap out of me.

I was always self-conscious on the bike. Was I doing things right, what code was there that I was absolutely not aware of? (like what? – Not riding side by side. Yeah they talk about it in the safety course, but it seemed to me of an unwritten rule. Even the wave that people with motorcycles give to each other. – just self conscious. It’s who I am! )

The Virago was great but because I was so self concious it was also horrible. Virago’s are known for their grinding start. It sounds like shaking pennies in a jar. (Probably not the best description, but its kringe-worthy none the less.)

I ended up upgrading to a Vstar 1100 and absolutely loved it. It was comfortable. Not as nimble as the 750. And hindsight being what it is, I probably should have stuck with a smaller bike. I got even more in my head and more anxiety. It was a much heavier bike. (at least it certainly seemed it).

I really enjoyed the little 250 that I had rode in the safety class.

The Virago was sold off to a friend of mine. My husband trained her as well, how to ride. And the Virago did what it does best, it teaches. She eventually got the riding bug that I had hoped for but couldn’t quite reach with all the ‘what ifs’ filling my head of impending doom.

A few years ago I sold off the Vstar and turned in my drive to ride again. I was not safe to be on the road with how much anxiety it gave me, no matter how much I loved it. I can be a passenger when I know I’m in the right headspace to ride. Until then – I have some amazing memories and I think I got the connection with my father that I really wanted.