MM had wanted a motorcycle for years. Twenty-two years of our marriage (to be exact) before I gave in. I was never much of a motorbike kind of gal. Now, my dad loved to fix up old Cushman Scooters and sell them. But not before we went on a few short rides up and down the street. I also sat on a friend’s chopper when I was in high school for this photo. Thank you, Roy Dale, for sharing this pic with me after all these years. That’s the back end of my 1964 1/2 Ford Mustang on the right. Yep, my Dad loved cars as much as I do. SWEET! Wish I still had it. MM had a 1979 Kawasaki 750 when we got married that stayed at his dad’s workshop in New Mexico. When we would go visit his parents, he would take me for rides up into the mountains. But that was the extent of my motorcycle riding experience. So, pretty much nada. Until the ripe ol’ age of 48. You see, after I gave in to his obsessive-compulsive, sad-puppy-dog-eyes pleas for a Honda Goldwing, I rode in the “Lazy-Girl Seat” on the back for about a year. Even fell asleep a couple of times and read a few books. Serious. MM kept telling me I should take the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Course and learn to ride, just in case I ever needed to “drive” the Goldwing. YIKES! Finally, I relented to the power of persuasion and thought, from a safety standpoint, maybe I should learn to ride. I reasoned that it would make me a better rider and, most probably, a better and safer car driver, too. Those would all prove to be true. I would now suggest that everyone take the MSF Course. You WILL become a more aware of motorcycles, other vehicles and safer driver of an automobile, I guarantee! Keep in mind I had NEVER “ridden my own”. Ever. Sitting on one to pose for that picture up there was as close as I ever got. Until 2004. Man, did that ever change things. This would have been a much easier learning process at the age of 18 rather than 48. But, I can’t change history. The MSF Course is over a weekend, twelve hours on Saturday and twelve full hours on Sunday. I passed! Out of a class of twelve, one hot-shot […]
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