THE BIKE

The beginning

I rode my first motorcycle when I was 18 years old and promptly bought one.  I lived in the Philippines at the time, and everyone rode them there.  It was a great place to ride, because the weather was always warm even though it rained a lot, and there were a bunch of people to ride with and learn from.  I started with an old Honda CM450.  It seems a tiny bike to me now, but over there, most people drove 250s, so it was a big bike.  I drove that thing like we were invincible, all over Luzon, to Manila and Subic Bay and locally around Angeles City.  It was so much fun. 

Unfortunately, motorcycles have a reputation for being dangerous, and I suppose they are.  I never thought so until someone ran a stop sign and used me and my little CM450 as a speed bump.  I didn’t get hurt too badly considering.  A broken arm, torn muscle, concussion and major cuts and bruises, but, really, I got away lucky.  It scared me though.  Seriously.  To this day, if someone is at a stop sign on my right, my butt cheeks tighten up.  I didn’t think I’d ever ride again, but as soon as the cast came off my arm and I could walk reasonably well, I jumped on my next bike, a Honda Nighthawk 650.  After my initial hesitation at riding I was back at it and loving life. 

Life without a ride

When I moved back to the States, I left my little motorcycle behind and didn’t ride again for a few years.  I got pregnant and had a beautiful baby girl.  It wasn’t because I couldn’t put a car seat on a bike that I didn’t ride.  I was a single parent and groceries were hard enough to come by, let alone a motorcycle.  I worked as a bookkeeper/accountant and usually worked a second job besides to keep us in housing and food.  Those were good years with the little munchkin, but I did miss riding.  When she was about 8, I had finally landed a decent position, put away a bit of money, and bought another bike.  I tried a lot of them on, but the bike my heart yearned for was too big for me.  I wanted a CBR or a YZF-R1 or the pretty and oh so fast, Hayabusa!  I’m only 5’7” and they were just too tall for me to feel comfortable, especially after about 9 or 10 years off a bike.  The sales guy led me to a Suzuki Intruder 800, a cruiser that was low to the ground and a pretty color, a dark red.  He assured me it would be fast and fun.  Sold.

Back in the saddle

Although it feels irresponsible now, my daughter and I rode everywhere on that bike.  It amazes me how crazy we are when we’re young.  How unreal it is that the things that will come to terrify you in your old age, will not even occur to you when you’re young.  I never really thought of how dangerous it was to ride around with a kid on the back of the bike while I was wearing a skirt and heels!  I look at it now and would never ride with a child and no protective gear!   

At the time I bought that Intruder, they didn’t ask me for a license or insurance information, I just signed the papers and left. It’s good they didn’t ask me for a license, because, by then, I didn’t have a motorcycle endorsement on my license in order to legally drive a motorcycle.  I had heard the test was brutally hard and I didn’t want to spend the money for another motorcycle safety course.  In fact, I didn’t get that endorsement for almost 5 years.  This is definitely not something I would recommend, but it was what it was for the time.  I did take the test when I moved back to California, and the driving test WAS hard, but doable.  I passed on the first try.  And now I was legal. 

I eventually got an even bigger bike, an Intruder 1400.  Why?  Because I had sold the 800, I had crashed my car, needed a ride, I could afford it, and I liked the color.  Even though it was big, as a cruiser, it was easy to handle.  It wasn’t my style though, and I lusted after a faster, sweeter looking ride.  I was getting older though and my need for a bike that could go nearly 200 mph, was fading.  I was getting more into comfort, but I still wanted something that could perform.

My 2001 Suzuki Intruder 1400

Thelma

Enter the Yamaha FJR, a sport touring bike that was the best of both worlds, comfort and speed.  I bought a used 2007 that was a gorgeous black cherry color (the best color Yamaha made for the FJR, if you ask me).  It only had about 24k miles on it when I bought it and I got a pretty good deal on it.  This bike was HUGE!  I could touch the ground with the toes of both feet, but certainly not securely.  By now though, I had a lot of solid years of riding behind me and I felt less uncomfortable with the lack of ability to flat foot the bike.  She was fast and although my first few miles were a little scary, I fell in love.  Her name was Thelma.  I did make some adjustments to her.  I added some heated grips.  Although I’m generally a fair weather rider, I try to keep it between 37 and 100 degrees Fahrenheit when I ride, the early morning commute can freeze my hands.  I lowered her about ¾ of an inch with Kuba links and a used Corbin seat.  I could get the balls of my feet securely down and I felt like I was in business!

The day I bought Thelma.  Look at those toes touching the ground!

While I love Thelma, she has her downsides.  Aside from being so tall, she is a heavy bike.  I have extreme difficulty backing her up the slightest incline or bump, given her weight and the fact that my feet couldn’t touch the ground with any real leverage.  She is top-heavy, making slow-speed maneuvering difficult.  And, she requires muscle to hold the gas open and squeeze in the clutch.  Not huge, bodybuilder muscles, but it definitely takes some doing to get that clutch in and hold open that gas.   The year before this wild cross country road trip idea popped into my head and took up full time residence there, I took Thelma to Crater Lake in Oregon for a weekend trip.  On the way back home, I decided to take the smaller roads home and drive through Lassen National Park on my way back.  While a gorgeous drive, filled with mountains, trees, wonderful smells, open road and a ton of road construction, it took me 11.5 hours to get home.  On top of this, I am a vegan and my dining options on this trip were nil.  So I made the drive around Crater Lake and home with no food and stops only to fill the tank.  And of course, for the road construction.  Surprising to me, when I got home, the only things really sore were my right wrist from holding the gas open, and my left shoulder, which through a quirk of either fate or genetics, dislocates at will.  And, any bump I ran over seemed to be the will!  This had me wondering if I would have any trouble taking Thelma across the country.

Thelma at Crater Lake.  I was there, but she couldn’t take the photo.

The first hint of reality had come to me.  Was I physically capable of riding this motorcycle across the country and back?  How would I handle it if I just couldn’t ride for a day or a few?  Turns out there was going to be more to think about than just what roads I’d drive on and how much time off I’d need.