What a day!

Yesterday I had a quick look through the ANON postings and amongst a very busy thread about tyre pressure, which seemed to go on and on, there was Spiro’s E-mail, looking for a ride partner Friday or Saturday. He located himself in the Sutherland area, which is a good thing for me, as I am always looking for people to ride with without having to cross the city to meet up with them in the first place. So, Spiros replied to my e-mail and rang on Friday night after I had clarified that I had half a day, a.m., Saturday. You Beauty!!! We organised a meet 8:30am at Heathcote Maccas. I had butterflies, since I had that confidence crushing ride to Obrrrrron a couple of weeks before and he mentioned that he was riding a GSX1000 (…a lovely blue and white, only 6000k’s old, a beautiful bike!, which, of cause I did not know at the time of first contact.) Yes, butterflies, because I was worried that I had to go full throttle all the way to keep up again….which was not the case.

I met Spiros at Maccas and we checked each other out for a couple of moments and it was ‘all good’. Another intelligent member of ANON’s. Good stuff! Like minded. All that mattered for that moment in time was to ride. It’s quite a phenomenon or maybe it’s just the assumption that the other person under all that gear, helmet, sunglasses, visor, scarf and leathers, on that bike a few meters in front or behind, has that same euphoric sensation that makes your cheeks ache and your eyes water…

Well, we made our way towards Stanwell Tops lookout and it was quite windy up there. Bikers had not really settled in by then and it seemed quite deserted up there at the time of our arrival. It was only about 9 am … what do you expect?!

The first couple of corners to Stanwell Park were the test. Is he going to gun it or is he going to take it easy? Spiros did not take it easy, but he did not gun it either. He just enjoyed it… goood start! Yes, and so did I. We rode along the coast road, the Sea Cliff Bridge up to Bulli Pass. All along: just the right mix of nice view and nice corners. I LOVE this part of the world! We hit the highway again at Bulli Tops and made good time towards Albion Park. Turned right at the roundabout and into the valley. The original plan was to go to Kangaroo Valley, but we changed our mind, just keeping ahead of time. We got some petrol at an old fashioned 'by the side of the road' petrol station.

It was time to...

Upon Spiro’s return he grinned.

”You’ll like this one…it’s a fibro shack in the backyard and you’ll have to keep the door open to get some light to see what you’re doing”, he said.

I wonder if he had also noticed the German Sheppard that started to bark like only a German Sheppards can?! The only thing keeping him from charging through the (s)light opening, sinking his long white teeth into my leather clad flesh was a rickety timber fence with a paling missing here and there. Memorable…

We discussed our options. Kangaroo Valley or Macquary Pass. The dreaded PASS???!!
Oh no, he can’t want to go THERE !...after all that beauty and serenity…
It was time to come clean about the Pass.

“I feel a bit, well…uncomfortable about the Pass.”

“Why?”

I should have said: “it is possible going to take me face to face with my personal limitations and I am not ready to face that. It SCARES me.”
” It is dark with lot’s of shadows and debris and slippery, and slimy…”

“why don’t you want to go up the pass?”

“Well I guess UP is not as bad as DOWN…”

“You have breaks…”


Hmmm, yes, well… ok then, let’s go up to Robertson. It felt like my arm was being …kept in place by my shoulder blade… “yes, let’s go! I’ll face that fear.”

Just before the very first corner a 4wd towing a caravan pulled out in front of us. So I got to do the pass at minimal speed. My heart was smiling… and my brain was wondering what could have been…
Next stop Spiros commented: “ You must have prayed for that caravan to be right there…”

“Yes!...and THERE IT WAS!!!!!!”



We rode through sunny Bowral to Mittagong and visited Kerrie, Dave and their boys. It was really neat to be trusted to meet someone’s friends. Meeting new people is really neat full stop. I don’t get the opportunity that often. After a mighty nice hot cup of tea and a chat we took off to hit the highway. Time was running out and I had to be at the Ridges by 1pm. A Lexus led me astray for a little while…until I saw the disco light car hiding at the centre strip…ooooh, that could have been…
I looked behind me to find that Spiros was not in my mirrors, so I slowed down to meet up again.

What a day, what a ride. Bliss.

I must say Spiro’s last gesture was most generous. He did guide me all the way back to Henry Lawson’s, so that I would not get lost. How cool.
THANKS SPIROS!
…for a great Saturday morning.
…for being easy going, fab company.
…for being a cool dude with nothing to prove.

Let’s do it again another time.

8/8/2006 RIDE TO WORK DAY
Ensure to ride to work on Census Day!

Illawarra Tours

I have just taken a look around for motorbike tours around the Illawarra and came across this broshure that's been produced in order to aid biker's safety in the area. Interesting tours. Not new, but do-able. I have hyperlinked it in Under Construction.

Gadget Lust


I want...
I want...
I want...

Thank goodness I live close by the coast. I would hate to have to cope with winter inland, where temperatures get down to -1 or even much less. There has been talk on my group sites about heated grips. Hmmmm, good idea!

I also want a different look for my rear end..."don't we all," says she!!! Something more sporty, more racey, more single seatish than what it is right now. After all, it is unlikely that I'll take a pillion along when I'm off on 'me-time'. So, I'll have to have a look around. Soon!

I've got my progressive springs, which was a great investment, perhaps some black and green coloured grips and a new set of Pirelli's. I used to get onto TT100's, but those were the days of German road technology. The average Aussie highway makes a quick meal out of our rubber.

Some knobs might be a good idea to save the fairing in case we lose our perfect grip.

What else is out there? Hmmm... a hand stitched fourleaf clover on the seat cover...for good luck? (since I am NOT with AAMI)

I'd like THE HEAD. It's a plastic head with a wall bracket to place your helmet on when me-time is up.

Another pair of good riding boots. Maybe SIDI's, depends on the fit...

I want...
Well, there is always X-Mas!

Sunday Drive(rs)

My green machine is waiting patiently while the bad weather passes through and the family commitments take top priority. Dream on… Today I drove the family along the coast road to the city. It was the first sunny Sunday for some time and there were bikes out and about almost everywhere.

Such gentle torture!

It was getting dark on the highway home and it still had not rained. We were overtaken on the left by an impatient Harley rider. The one behind him commanded respect, but Lefty not only looked like he truly belonged there with his arms stretched up onto his monkey bars, but decided to behave like one too.

We watched him race up to a RAV4 and for a few seconds he stayed just off her left rear bumper bar. Even if she had wanted to pull over to the left lane, she would have pulled straight in front of another car and endangered herself and the other driver.

We slowed down.

Had she previously seen him overtake us on the left, she would have had good reason to assume that that monkey bar was about to pass her on THAT side. She pulled carefully towards the right edge of her lane, allowing him to escape between the two cars. Little did she know that he was getting even more impatient and by now, in a matter of seconds, he had pulled straight across towards her right bumper bar.

Rrrright!

Then he started to FORCE his way past her before she even had a chance to get halfway across her lane. We watched the guy pull right up to around about her car door and when he was sure she’d see him, he swerved towards her in a quick, angry move.

Sure, it must have been quite freezing on that bike, especially when exposed totally to the wind chill factor due to that riding position and he must have wanted to thaw out somewhere soon, but we were doing 110km/h and it was moderately busy. He had totally provoked that whole situation and I felt for that woman with those wide-eyed kids in the back seat. She must have been VERY scared.

His travel companion managed to remain a fair distance behind us throughout this moment of menace (or perhaps, at the very least, utter mis-judgement). When we were ready to move, he made his, calmly and with dignity. Respect!

We passed them at the crossways. Monkey bar’s plate was LOW. I agree!

To Nod or Not to Nod

I just read about the not nodding boot'n scoot'n riders, a recent Sydney Knights post.

So, I have been wondering about the Nod-etiquette. Is there a NOD-secret convention?

Like squeezing along a row of theatre seats when you have arrived late. Pointing your bum towards another patron's face is considered rude by some.

So, what's the story with the nod?
Chin towards the other rider?
Chin away from the other rider?
Chin straight down or straight up?

What about groups...only greet the leader, Kawasaki riders or (insert your favourite brand here) riders?

What about when you are riding in a group yourself? Should every rider nod or does the leader do it for you?
... just a thought! Not paranoid at all...

...just about to 'nod off'...

I Joined ANON

My brother in law passed away last year. Don was my ally, my hero. He went ahead. He took the fast lane. He was the one who introduced me to ANON, even though I only really got to meet them at his wake. Around that time I had been dreaming about getting another bike and I was planning to go for rides with him and his peers, but I never got to do that..the grim reaper took his soul.

So, on that day I promised myself two things:


•to own a motorcycle again and


•to join BikersANON.

As you can guess, I didn't let myself down!

It was another sunny Sunday and the ride was to Stanwell Park for a game of soccer. Well... we met at Gymea, which is not far from home.
It was World Cup Soccer time and the Aussies were still in the comp, so we were all quite motivated... We were the Green Team. 'Kawasaki' vs 'The Rest of the World' and I volunteered to be the goalie- given my German connection and current level of unfitness. I had sooooo much fun! It was great to meet the Guys 'n Dolls, who made me feel most welcome, especially after the ride through the National Park.
The road was dry in the high section, but a little moist and mossy in the southern part. I knew the ride quite well, but was'nt going to risk a slide in those corners, so I took my time. I figured if they don't like it they'd overtake me. Yep, I got there in good time... After all, it was a '2-bike' rated ride.


UNLIKE the next ANON ride I went on, which had a '4-bike' rating. This ride was a little out of my league. It really did not start well and because of the cold weather I was too uncomfily wrapped up in gear, which made it a little difficult to move. However, leaving in darkness that morning, I took off via Appin to a place called McGrath Hill, which was near Windsor.
I was not making good time and got lost at one stage, which took its toll on my confidence. I pulled over at a petrol station and asked the female attendant for directions.

She said:" Funny that, you are the second person asking me that question today."

"On a bike?", I asked, "What time was that? About ten minutes ago?"

"Naah, more like an HOUR ago..."

I panicked and took off. What I SHOULD have done was to calmly take the time to fill up, as I was only 5 k's away from the meeting point and still had time to get there before take-off.

Well, you've guessed it: I ran out of petrol just a couple of kilometers down the road from that petrol station. I had such a sinking feeling as I could feel the engine spluttering. I kept rolling as far as I could, but stopped on the side of the road in the middle of...no idea where I was, but I grabbed my tankbag and started walking. Soon I started to get my feeling back in my finger tips, gone were those icy toes and I even started to unzip my jacket a little. But THAT was IT... two pairs of socks, three layers of tops, a cotton scarf and the windsock around my neck and (don't tell anyone about this one:) my long cotton PJ pants under the leathers did not make me break out in a sweat. It just stayed COMFY...
whilst I walked around the block to source a jerry can full of petrol.

I did not even attempt to ride to the meeting point. The only way to go was to try and meet them at Oberon. No map, but I had an idea which way to go: up the Bell's Line Of Road (where there was a constant threat of ice patches), Mt Victoria, Lithgow, Oberon. Unfortunately I missed the turn off to Oberon and had to ride about 20 km up the Hwy past Lithgow, then took a left turn to Obrrron. This road was shocking. About 2 km into it, it turned into a terribly bumpy dirt road and the most I was averaging was about 20, maybe 30km/hour. I was worried that the gang would leave before I even get there. I wondered how much of this I could take if this was to go on for the next 20 km and all my muscles were already as sore as they could possibly be... ASPHALT!!! YES!!!!! ...but it only lasted for 500 meters. What a teaser! Then more dirt....aaaargh!!!




I finally got to Oberon and met the ANON and was told : "You are late!"
Well I guess that was the theme of the day for me.

Something unexpected happened there when I backed the rear into the kerb. When I tried to start the bike up, I could not get it back to neutral. The bike was on a bit of an angle and I was weakened by the previous horrid ride experience, so I had to ask someone to push me forward a little. The move did not do much for the gear situation and someone said that I should turn on the engine and then try and get it back to neutral. That worked. What on earth had happened? MENTAL NOTE: when backing rear into kerb, do it in neutral!

Well, admitting that I had run of petrol, I was reminded to fill up again. I felt humbled, awkward, inexperienced, a growing lack of confidence with every misjudged corner, with every wobbly line, with every lonesome kilometer, with every time someone had to wait for me at a turn-off to make sure I would not get lost....thank you, thank you, thank you... who ever you were, waiting patiently for me to get there...

By the time I got to the pub on the hill most of the guys had a glass of beer in their hand. THAT'S how slow I was, but I did not want to take risks and the thought of having my family attending my hospital bed kept cropping up. That's not what I wanted to happen. I wanted to make it HOME. SAFELY!

..and the image of Don's helmet after the accident has not left my subconscious yet.

I guess I am simply a little SCARED... strange actually, especially since I was so confident after the Wiseman's Ferry ride the week before...

I also felt a little vulnerable that day. I got a glimpse of myself in the pub mirror and I did not look my best. Hat Hair! 'Wicked witch' came to mind, (did I need to try out 'Sunsilk AntiFlat' ... does that mean farewell to Helmet Hair????) but I wasn't there to win a beauty contest or pick up ...I am happily married, after all!
When I got back outside 'Age' suddenly became a talking point and being 10 years their senior, I wondered whether it was accidental. Plus one of the lady riders seemed to need to take the 'Higher ground' by challenging my 'thinking I was having a good time'. "You say that," she said," but you are spending soooo much time by yourself..." Aaah come on! Could she be any more blunt?!

Earlier she had told me that she had a 600 too, but a newer model, with more modern lines. I did not care, but somehow I got a sense of competition going on then and there... Naaahhh, not my style! It spoilt it a little, but I guess it takes all kinds. I sure hope I read too much into that.

Tamzin of cause was lovely and Jo, the Triumph lady, another newer member, whose company I did enjoy very much...I wished I had more time to chat.

On our way back we took a little detour through the Galston Gorge. By that time I was soo exhausted that it became just another challenge I did not need and facing an hour or two ride home in traffic from Hornsby Heights, I had to take my leave when the others took off on the Newcastle Freeway.
I know when I've had enough! Good thing I told them that I will split to go south at some stage and that was that.

So, did I have a good time?

Mostly.

Mainly that I have been able to recognise my limits and pushing the boundaries a little more. After all, it was certainly worth doing and I did learn something. It can only get better.

Girls Ride Out

I met a couple of the girls at the Bike Expo at Homebush last year and one of them gave me their card. I used it as a bookmark for a month or so and one day the time was right and I gave them a call. I got an answering machine. What did I expect? It was a nice Saturday afternoon and the roads were dry as a bone. Did I really expect them to sit by the phone? Get real!
I left a message.... a long message, just short of telling my life story. Then I waited. The recording said: "We'll get back to you within 24-48 hours."
Three weeks later I remembered that I did not get my callback. When I had my first ride with ANON, I met one of the female riders wearing one of the GRO T-shirts and I checked out their website, which had their next ride posted for one of the following weekends, so I rang that number again, this time only leaving name and contact. Di rang and left a message and when I got a hold of her, she got me in touch with Trish who lives within a 40 km radius.We arranged to meet at a service station in Prestons. "Where the #*@+& is Prestons???" Thank goodness for Wheris.com! ...and still, I managed to get quite lost at first, and I had to stop at Casula... same brand petrol station... asking an Indian attendant for directions, who had no idea that it was just the very next suburb. I found it and to my surprise ahead of all others. It was freezing! 3 degrees celsius and my temperature gauge knew it was and it refused to move off the 'C' position throughout the entire day. Trish arrived and brought two others along. They looked very much like guys. They were guys! I was amazed and pretended that I was not. I thought this was a Girl's Ride. Like, all-female sort of thing... Well, I realised it wasn't... and when we got to the meeting point it was more like half guys, half girls. Ah well, whatever! I came out to have a group ride. I don't really care what gender they are anyway. There were about 30-40 bikes all shapes and sizes and once they sorted out the meeting point we were all together, ready to go from Maccas at ...was it Rouse Hill" or wasn't it?

Well, I did not have a map, so I decided that I'd stay with the lead pack whatever it takes. Little did I know that the leader did not have a map either... oooooh I learnt from THAT experience!!... so we ended up at the wrong ferry, where we waited for some time for the rest of the pack to arrive. Two more riders made it there, but then there was stunning silence. Except for the put-put of the ferry, which made its way from shore to shore.


We made it into Wiseman's Ferry 35 minutes after the rear of the pack had arrived there, which was a little disappointing, but I can live with that!

I'm a Sunny Sunday Rider

So far my most amazing Sunday ride was spent on my own. Just me and NInja, a hot summer's afternoon with temperatures rising into the mid 30s. I took off without a plan or a map and rode along the beaches, heading south. I ended up in a Nowra mall for a quick trip to the loo and a refreshing drink and and some geek got arrested right in front of me, whilst I was sipping my 'V'. The view was quite disturbing, as they used capsicum spray on the guy when he gave them a mouth-off and there was no love lost in the way he was being treated, handcuffed and his face pushed into the footpath. And that was in public!! Well, who knows what the whole story was...I only got to see the middle part.


So, refreshed and ready to tackle a little more asphalt, I turned off towards Kangaroo Valley. It was a real treat! The sun had bathed the rolling hills in its golden light and the tranquility was almost overwhelming. Just me and the warm wind in my face, grazing cows on golden valleys along the winding roads and the sound of my Ninja. I felt connected. I belonged in that landscape, I was grinning from ear to ear... I approached almost every corner with good judgement and took them with grace, not speed.

Riding to the City...with the family right behind me (in the car)...




Once I had all my gear together, I ventured to the big smoke for a quick test ride. My family followed closely and I got a little self conscious and took off every now and then, only to feel a pinch of guilt, which made me slow down enough to stay in sight. I let them overtake me on the highway and at the next service station they filled up and so did I. Somehow I remembered two things:

•zero your trip counter and
•turn your fuel line back off reserve.

Where did THAT come from??? Those deep, dark recesses ... alzheimer's?!! I guess you can't UNLEARN these facts of bike life. My confidence level rose to almost HIGH. That's when it happened... caught by the red light, I sat on the outside lane, waiting for the change, when I felt the bike running uneven... momentarily I attempted to give it some revs, thinking that I may have had the misfortune of acquiring dirty petrol and a quick blast willlllllll.
Nothing!
Dead!

I already envisaged how I was attempting to keep calm whilst abusing the previous owner for selling me a lemon...@#*!!!

Of cause I got a dosage of your average P-Plate and 4WD drivers, who ignored my attempts to roll across the inside lane onto the footpath and twice I almost got run over by those that were in such a rush that they even had to punch their horn. Aaaaah - I remembered the food chain, the pecking order, yes, I guess it was payback time...



-and yes... it was the fuel thing...I had turned it to OFF.

The rain is much needed and it gives me, on this last day of the winter holidays, a break from thinking that I should be outdoors, rather than indulging my latest obsessions: this site and Ewen and Charley's 'Long Way Round'...disc 1,2 and 3. I must remember to add that documentary to my favfilms list.
I have enjoyed those BMWs getting bogged, truly bogged! And I have great respect for those two guys' sheer determination and courage, even if they had a support gang along... The best bit was seeing that poor cameraman end up on a Russian bike without ABS breaks and that whole German precision engineering thing and the only thing stopping it ... momentarily... was its rider's lapse of concentration.



There is another visual motorcycle delight I enjoy visiting on a German website belonging to a guy named Michael Rein. when I tried to hyperlink it for you, it did not work Perhaps try it yourself on : www.michael-rein.de
He has done a lot of amazing trips throughout Europe and the photographs are truly a feast. It is certainly worth having a peek. Good Luck!

'The sound my Ninja makes'. One of these days I'll be able to share that with you too. I am working on it!

PLEASE PASS THIS ON FOR YOUR FRIENDS WHO RIDE OR WHO MAY HAVE KNOWN SOMEONE WHO DIED WHILE RIDING.

I saw you,
hug your purse closer to you in the grocery store line.
But, you didn't see me,
put an extra $10.00 in the collection plate last Sunday.

I saw you,
pull your child closer when we passed each other on the sidewalk.
But, you didn't see me,
playing Santa at the local mall.

I saw you,
change your mind about going into the restaurant.
But, you didn't see me,
attending a meeting to raise more money for the hurricane relief.

I saw you,
roll up your window and shake your head when I drove by.
But, you didn't see me,
driving behind you when you flicked your cigarette butt out the car window.

I saw you,
frown at me when I smiled at your children.
But, you didn't see me,
when I took time off from work to run toys to the homeless.

I saw you,
stare at my long hair.
But, you didn't see me,
and my friends cut ten inches off for Locks of Love.

I saw you,
roll your eyes at our leather coats and gloves.
But, you didn't see me,
and my brothers donate our old coats and gloves to those that had none.

I saw you,
look in fright at my tattoos.
But, you didn't see me,
cry as my children were born and have their names written over and in my
heart.

I saw you,
change lanes while rushing off to go somewhere.
But, you didn't see me,
going home to be with my family.

I saw you,
complain about how loud and noisy our bikes can be.
But, you didn't see me,
when you were changing the CD and drifted into my lane.

I saw you,
yelling at your kids in the car.
But, you didn't see me,
pat my child's hands, knowing he was safe behind me.

I saw you,
reading the newspaper or map as you drove down the road.
But, you didn't see me,
squeeze my wife's leg when she told me to take the next turn.

I saw you,
race down the road in the rain.
But, you didn't see me,
get soaked to the skin so my son could have the car to go on his date.

I saw you,
run the yellow light just to save a few minutes of time.
But, you didn't see me,
trying to turn right.

I saw you,
cut me off because you needed to be in the lane I was in.
But, you didn't see me,
leave the road.

I saw you,
waiting impatiently for my friends to pass.
But, you didn't see me.
I wasn't there.

I saw you,
go home to your family.
But, you didn't see me.
Because, I died that day you cut me off.



I was just a biker,.....
A person with friends and a family.
But, you didn't see me.

My first ride was dreadfully slow.

But I loved the NOISE it made....


I travelled up and down that bumpy backroad, then merged into Sunday traffic...oooh that fist time joining the rest of the world on Lawrence Hargrave... up through Scarborough's winding road, past the Hotel, which was still open before the renovations, with a couple of bikies hanging out the front. Yes, I sound good, don't I?!

But of cause they could'nt care less... they were Harley riders...probably totally immune to the siren's call of my yoshimura pipes. ZXRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...

That mental moment passed quickly and my first time over the bridge, the Sea Cliff Bridge (how original?!!), was a dream. Nobody in front to dictate the speed and no-one behind to watch my corner line. It felt great and... I got to do it all again on the way back too.

I rode along the coast road past the Austi cafe strip (the beach was packed) and then into Thirroul, past Beaches, where the beergarden was chockeblock and the band was playing and the BBQ was going. I was getting quite hot on that 30 degree summer's day, in that leather jacket and my black kevlar cargos, whilst everybody else lazed in their beach gear....It was time to head home to take a dip in the pool.

Heading into the hills, I conquered that steep winding road to my place and was shaking with adrenalin. I had done it!!! I looked back down my driveway with a sense of self pitty. Why did I give it so much thought, so much fear factor, so much of my valuable energy???



I had finally found courage...

There was an air of anticipation, a feeling of unease, excitement, wonderment. It's been a such a long time since I last rode a bike, that I was more scared of it than ever. You see, fifteen years ago I swapped my RD250 for a Datsun 1200, an orange, sporty hoon's set of four wheels. A mortgage and bringing up baby saw the dream disappear into thin air and that was that. For a long time there was not a glimmer of hope in sight, but whilst our circumstances have not changed that much, I became more and more aware of a certain lack of me-time, an interest outside of work and family. I wonder sometimes if people point the finger at this middle aged woman who enthusiastically swapped her place in a book club for a spot in a bike club, but I hope that they can also see how much fun I am having now...

Well, back to the beginning. I had checked out a couple of 250cc Hondas, fell in love with a 650 Suzuki's tail and informed myself of the current pricelist. The 'redbook', the TradingPost, Ebay, local dealers and Sydney dealers did their bit to make me an informed customer. My homework was done. And then... the husband tells me about this Ninja up the road. $5,200 they were asking for it. We went to have a look and a chat to the 'Two Wheel' guy, who had done the paint job and wanted to get paid for it.

She looked absolutely stunning. Ten years old and not an obvious wrinkle in sight. 23thousand kilometres on the clock and her previous owner was, wait for it: A WOMAN!!!!

I was suspicious as soon as I realised how little she had been out and about and having been in the bike business in my youth, I remembered vividly how one avoids to klick over and how to rewind... easy!! The 'woman owner' also did ring alarm bells. But when I started to make an offer and he then proceeded to tell me that she was currently in Mexico, I thought of reporting him to the Department of Fair Trading.

So the bidding started... apparently via Mexico... Shortly after my second bid the guys took off to the Phillip Island Race and communication broke down for at least a week...

I had almost given up on it and started checking out another bike at Caringbah Motorcycles, when one evening I took a phonecall from a woman, who had just returned from her holiday in Mexico, and hopefully was desperate to sell that bike to me.

I was glad that it all checked out. The reason why she did not do many kilometers was similar to my situation: Children and a mortgage in addition to an earlier prang, which had her feeling strangely about getting back into it. So the bike sat in their driveway, wasting away.

$4,600 for a 10 year old bike (I felt lucky!), which has just had a beautiful respray and my only problem was that I felt unfit to ride it. So to test ride the bike, I had to sit on the back of it whilst her husband was giving me a double up and down our back street.

Money changed hands and so did the Ninja as seen.

My man made a space in the corner of the garage and there it sat, awaiting to be graced by my presence.

There were many worries and more excuses. No helmet. A Shoei helmet was bought. No leather gloves. Gloves were bought. No leather jacket. The motorbike exhibition was on in November last year and I had a good look around for a leather or water proof jacket. There was this nice French brand, that did fit me well and cost the earth. Ixon. That's my style...

Never ever did I own such a beautiful and protective leather jacket as this one! I felt like I just had stepped up in the world.
Yet, what I thought would be light grey, was light blue in the light of the day and that's when I thought ooops...blue and green should never be seen!!!! People reassure me: it's ok. I also got myself a good pair of booties and Draggin Kevlar Cargo pants. I've never felt THAT protected.

Those worries did not stop for a while. Once I was all decked out I had to find courage to ride down our very steep driveway. I had imagined that I may have to stop at a point where I would lose my balance and simply fall over. The clutch/throttle/breake/hand/foot co-ordination had become so very alien to me and the more I thought about it, the more scared I became about going down that driveway.

I had all the right gear and I had that beautiful bike, but I also had a lot of fear to get hurt and/or hurt the Ninja. Excuses, excuses! The time was ripe... My first ride was way overdue.
Where was my courage?