But all of the guys were already riders to one degree or another. Some were fairly new to be sure, but a couple of them were more advanced. The six of us made for a diverse group. There was Amrik, having recently arrived in the States from India, with his thick, foreign accent. He spoke rarely, but when he did, it was kind of like the 'ole E.F. Hutton thing, you know? He and I tied for best evaluation score in the end…but more about that in a minute. For now, just rest assured that I can vouch that miracles still happen! Back to Amrik-he had been riding motorcycles in India for years already-but the smaller engine ones. He explained to us that bikes are the most common form of transportation in India. (I'm feeling an international tour welling up in my imagination. Game, anyone? Amrik, maybe you could plan the itinerary!
And then there was Joseph. We all came to know more about Joseph than probably any other individual in the class. Joseph was the manly-man in the class-just loved to talk about all the 'boy toys' he had. He either has or is intending to purchase every accessory known to the biker! He arrived both days in his awesome leather Harley jacket, toting a helmet in its case and donning all sorts of cool riding gear. He brought in his tire tread check thingamajig and other doo-hickeys and gizmos for an impromptu 'show-and-tell' on day two. As I recall, the only toy not on his list-he did not limit his interests to bikes only--was a jet ski. The point is, I know more about his upcoming after-market additions to his bike and future toy-obsessions than I do about what's in my fridge! There's the headlight modulator kit, and possibly a slipper clutch upgrade, and the led lighting. To top things off he's decided to go ahead and take it to red-line…just because… You know, boys will be boys.
So that was group one as we were divided into two groups of three. They sat closest to the door. Then there was our group. Myself, Carl and Travis. I never told Travis, but that's my son's name, too. And he reminded me of my Travis: a young, handsome, tall and athletic-stud, I think that's what the girls say nowadays. What was so impressive about this young man is that he was even there in this class. Yes, Travis, I know it's all about saving on the insurance costs, but you know, don't you, that you aren't the only young man with a couple of-ahem!-speeding tickets. And as I mentioned, you've got years and years of fun riding ahead of you, so gear up and get your skills down, 'cause there'll be many a young lass wanting to hop on the back of your bike to go for a ride. Cool Rider!
Last, but not least, is Carl. I felt a special connection to Carl. He was so friendly and accommodating-trying to make everyone feel at home, participating in all of the discussions, and encouraging everyone to keep a positive attitude. Safety-minded and conscientious, Carl provided lots of thought-provoking scenarios for us to consider. Now, Carl! I'd better not hear tell of you poppin' wheelies in downtown Dallas! Underneath that conservative exterior a tiger lurks! Hell! He tangles with the best of the, Did y'all know he is on the local Clinton presidential campaign, and has talked with her 'personally' a few times over the phone. Heck! He was even quoted by her on national T.V.! Way to go, Carl!
So, that was our group! Instructor Mike, Lead-Man Brett, Amrik, Joseph, Travis, Carl, and me-Saijin. How is it that people can bond in such a short period of time? It's really one of those wonderful things about being human. We all have so much in common on the inside. We want to get along. We want to enjoy life. We want to feel accepted by others. We want to provide assistance to others. It's wonderful when you get the opportunity to be a part of a closely-knit group even if it is just for a couple of days. But then, that's a lot of what being a biker is all about, isn't it? Belonging, sharing, helping, discovering, adventuring, learning, leading, and, of course, feeling the wind in your hair and the power of the bike beneath you. Wearing the cool gear isn't bad either. And the cooler the bike the cooler you feel-that's part of it, too. Let's not forget about that shall we?
So there we all were together looking up and answering questions from our manuals, discussing rules of the road and sharing personal tales of woe from the school of hard-knocks, watching video clips of the annoying little, white sports car which seemed to purposely cause mayhem for our learning pleasure. But there was the side stuff, too. Travis, who used to repair race boat engines and prêt them for display told us about Lucas Metal Polish. And, like I said, Joseph brought in show-n-tell accessories. Carl revealed his freshly tattooed forearm to us. (It's okay, Mike, Carl knows you didn't really mean to cause his excruciating pain when you were 'showing' him how to push his arms down to lean into a turn.) And then we also got to see a picture of Brett's adorable three-year-old redhead, Isabella, and hear the redhead tales of Instructor Mike's family reunions.
Amidst the fun and sharing though there was a lot of physical exertion. That first day in particular was to test my strength to the max. "We're going to push the bikes to the training course," Mike announced as we stood there outside of the garage, beside our chosen bikes. He had us look the bikes over and doing our T-CLOCs. We'd 'mounted up' and turned on the engines. (I could learn to like this! I smiled to myself as the engine hummed.) Then we tested the horns… Eee-Gads! That definitely needs retrofitting, I thought to myself. Cool biker dudes and chicks with such pathetic little horns? Oh, no, no, no! So, I'm thinking air horn-yes, I'll replace the relays with upgraded ones for my Virago 250. (Oh, I hear y'all laughing at me, but listen here, you won't be laughing when I come up behind you and lay on my horn, now, will you?)
Then Mike gave us the 'ole hand-across-the-throat kill the engines signal. "We're going to push them up to the course now." I thought to myself, "Dear, God! That looks like a bit of an incline from where I'm standing. Doesn't sound like much fun at all!" but it was definitely one of the better strategies Mike has designed. Fear had absolutely no power by the time we got our bikes onto the course. I was sooo ready to mount that bike with the power running that I never looked back. See what I mean about Mike being a Master Teacher? Way to go, Dude! So then, there we all were on the course with our engines running. I was about to ride a bike all by my lonesome at last.
There is one other thing I don't leave home without, which so far I've failed to mention. It's my secret agent…or should I say, he's my Secret Agent: that would be, Ron. Now Ron is the biker who first got me interested in getting my motorcycle license. He's got a Harley Anniversary Edition Fat Boy-all nice and shiny black and sparkling chrome. Ron and I have been on many a ride together, so it didn't take much coercing to get me into this class.
He was there watching me now with, not one, but two cameras to document this momentous event. It was like a dad sending his kid off to summer camp or something. He took so many pictures that his camera ran out of battery power. Joseph, not knowing exactly who this guy snapping pics of me was, said, "Do you want me to beat him up or something?" (Now the humor in his comment was due to the fact that Ron is 6'4" tall and over 300 pounds! Yeah, now you can hear the collective chuckling. So, I quipped back to him, "Nah! He wouldn't look very good if you did that!" More laughter. Ron was in.
In fact, Ron became a permanent fixture of our class. We started using him to fixate on when following through on our turns. It's no wonder I messed up that last turn in our evaluation-he'd had to leave to go to work. Gee! It's all fun and games and picture-taking until I have to take my test and he's no where to be found! Oh, well, I managed-not gracefully mind you-but I managed. Fortunately it was so dark by the time we got around to doing that particular 135° turn that I later commented to Instructor Mike, "Oh! You meant to stay inside of that line!" as I squinted my eyes in the feigned darkness. "My bad!" Remember that little comment earlier about miracles? Well, quite commonly they are of the unseen variety, as I've come to learn.
When we finally gathered inside after our evaluations, Mike began his calculations. I figured I'd bombed out and was trying to console myself, Now, now! You can always just practice with Ron and then go take the driving portion of the test along with the written test at the DPS. After all, I reminded myself; this was a safety training course and wasn't mandated by the State. Just because you didn't cut the mustard doesn't mean you can't eventually get your license.
"Looks like everyone made it," Mike said with a smile.
"What!" I shrieked, leaping up from my seat. (I think all the guys' eyes went wide at that point. It was kind of the first and only time I'd really let my emotional side show. I'd been playing it cool-tomboy attitude and all-just one of the guys and all. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" I continued until it was more-than-obvious even to me that I needed to sit back down and cool my jets.
"And some of you did better than you expected…" he continued.
That's when he announced that Amrik and I had tied in the course evaluation. So, guys, whaddya think of that? Pretty good for a little old lady, eh? But, here's to all of you! "Thanks for helping this writer become a rider! I'm looking forward to seeing you on the open road! Now, Amrik, ahem, whaddya say we talk a bit about that two-wheel tour of India… Who's in? It's time to roll.
Namaste'
Saijin
But wait, I digress! Mike has his teaching down to an art, and I would be amiss if I made this sound too casual, though he does appear to pull it off without a hitch. A Master Teacher-that's what you'd call him. That's the kind of teacher that teaches while making if feel like you're having a good time-joyfully. Yep! Mike's a jolly fellow alright. (I overheard one of my classmates commenting while Mike was demonstrating one of the maneuvers--was it the figure eight u-turns?-that he looked like Santa on a bike. Now, true enough, Mike does sport a full-length, snow-white beard, but the real trick to being able to pull off the Santa impersonation is the style and the smile-and he's got those down pat, too. In fact, I'll even go further-he's got elves working for him! "What?" he'd probably challenge if he were to read this, "I'm a one-man show!"
Nope. Busted, totally. Did he really think, for one minute that I'm was so naïve as to have missed the fact that he had Brett watching out for me? It only took once for him to earn his bars though. I fell on, on the very first day. Yes, siree. Ker plunk! I fell. Right to the ground, I did. (Mike, quick question, Why don't we cover tight turns on day one instead of day two? Could've saved me the embarrassment, you know. After all, I am a quick study and I could have avoided that mishap. Guess the first lesson is one in humility, eh? Sly! Very, very sly!)
Brett-radiantly glistening smile and a sparkle in his eye, was offset only by his flashy blue Ninja. The rest of us rode the Honda 250 Nighthawks. Brett, though, was constantly at my side-zooming in to save the day or to encourage me to stick with it. It was fun being the only female in the class. I've got to admit that it doesn't matter how old we get, we just love all that attention! So, there Brett was helping me and my bike back up when I had my first and only fall. Thanks, Brett! I think that's when Mike must have pulled his aside and enlisted him as Saijin's personal Elf. It was an appropriate calling, too, for the more we all got to know Brett, the more evident his big heart began to show. If he wasn't politely excusing himself to tend to family matters over the phone, he was giving us helpful hints that only a truly experienced, confident rider would dare do. At one time or another he managed to take each of us under wing and share his knowledge.
