Hi There...
For me, the sound of summer is my 1991 Harley Davidson Sportster 1200 firing up for the first time...
...I am not merely a 1200 Sportster...I am a custom rebuilt 1200 bored out to a 1400, my name is Clarice, I am gorgeous, and I am fast...
After a winter spent cozy and snug in her custom built shed, (thank you Choo) I hauled her out a few weekends ago and spent my usual three hours washing her and polishing her chrome...Shout out to the 2893 Seaforth Highlanders for teaching me magic circles and the proper way to bring a shine out...For me, that first wash and polish has become my zen time. As I bring out her shine and beauty, I reflect on my shine and beauty, and how riding has become so intrinsic to me. I've always wanted to ride, ever since I was little though I will admit that in the beginning, Clarice scared me. Shitless. With all her power, her presence in my life and what she represented. I didn't think I was worthy nor did I think I would be able to master the skills needed to harness her power and I understand why harleys are called an iron horse. Now, going on my sixth year of riding, I still haven't mastered all the skills a great rider has, but I am definitley on my way to being there thanks in most part to an amazing and infinitley patient teacher who taught me not just the fundamentals of riding a motorcycle, he taught me the skills to become one with my bike, that I am more than able to harness her power...and I am worthy.
This past Saturday I went for my first ride. I had intended to just go for a putter around town to work out our mutual kinks and find our flow again. Well that putter turned into a three hour ride which at one point took me up to the gas station I work at, mainly because I had never ridden that way and wanted to scout the route I normally take to work, being that its a twisty uphill way and though I can ride hills with a reasonable level of confidence, its not my most favourite thing to do.
I pulled into the station and as kinda usual, received more than a few looks, most from my coworkers who didnt recognise me out of uniform..."Your shape! it is so different!" from Ahad (I'm actually two sizes smaller than the uniform I wear) and "You look so wild and fierce!"...not to mention I'm riding a bike with pink flames while wearing a bubblegum pink helmet.
I think I circled town probably four times, and I mean literally circled town, because I didn't want to stop riding. The deciding factor was on the upcoming fifth pass of my house, I went to pull my clutch in to gear down and got the wickedest cramp that shot across my palm, just under the meaty part at the base of my thumb. So with some reluctance I pulled into the driveway and called it a day. A perfect day.
I woke up Sunday morning stiff as a board, but it was a good kind of ache...the kind that comes after you have accomplished something worthwhile.
Dont let fear and common sense stop you...That Is All
