That was my response when a old friend asked if I needed my head checked when I told him about our motorcycle trip. Especially when he realized that we'd be covering well over 400 miles. "Cuz' we're 'Bringing Sexy Back', I explained".
Doesn't that sound like a good idea?
Jzboy had his own reasons for wanting to get his bike (& perhaps his wife?) going. But I had to find something flip - with an amusing catchphrase - to afford me some distance between my fear and my desire. Whatever works, right?
Once I put aside the images of crashes, fire, ambulances and paraplegia - I really got into it. It actually took less time than I'd imagined, maybe a half hour or so into the trip. In retrospect, I think that I was more concerned about Jzboy's safety than my own.
And, he was fine.
Surprisingly, I ended up feeling a lot safer than I ever thought I could. I think that my calm had to do with our finding a very quiet road to start our journey, riding as a group (you're much easier to see when there are three bikes vs. one), traveling with friends that embrace the importance of taking breaks, a partner that tells you earnestly that "the passenger is boss" (& that said "boss" is "precious cargo" to him) and the promise of winetasting and bountiful dining options at the end of the journey. Nice.
Here is kinda how we got there:
Highway 25 was beautiful and it seemed that we had the road to ourselves once we got past Pinnacles National Monument. The dusty, craggy hillside and one lane road made me forget that I was in California & gave me flashbacks of motocycle films I'd seen and panoramas I'd imagined as a backdrop for such an adventure. It was beautiful, meditative and humbling.
Jen & her Hubs were the inspiration for this trip. About a month ago, at their pre-pre baby shower/adoption referral announcement dinner they casually invited us to tag along with them on this trip. Both of them are wayyy experienced on the track and on the streets (uhm, yeah, Jen's cool like that) and the invite was just the right inspiration for Jzboy to resuscitate his beloved Yamaha Turbo. The Turbo is 25 years old! Uhm, yeah, Jzboy's cool like that!
(Guess which one of us was dreaming of hot cocoa and a nap?)
I was by far the luckiest of the bunch because all I had to do was kick it on the back of the bike & chill. It was a blast. I got to enjoy the wind through my ponytail, the scent of ripened strawberries in the Central California Fields in my nose, the invigorating chill of the fog as we set out on our journey (& as we made our final approach toward home), the familiar images of freshly turned farmland mixed with pungent manure, the dizzying rush of adrenaline, even the butterflies that were there at the start of the trip.
These multilayered sensations made me forget my initial trepidation as well as the stiff back and sore rear end that became souvenirs of the trip.
Totally worth it.