I am.

I don’t know why. The last time I took an advanced rider’s course, a big girl scared me and I fell down.

My husband (RC51) and his BFF (some super KTM) are doing a track day, intermediate level. I was going to do a quick track orientation session for fifty bucks, but no. I’m taking the full day class. Luckily a friend is teaching and another friend is attending. I really need to get over fixating and staying on the throttle coming into turns. I’ll be on the 91 Hawk instead of the Duc, which really makes no sense since the Duc is already battered enough, but I can’t seem to muscle the steering as easily as I can on the Hawk. Plus, people might feel sorry for me and not pass me if I only have 50 HP. Hmmm, maybe I’ll bring the Duc for backup.

Hopefully we’ll have a whole new front end by Sunday: brand new CBR forks (thank you, DA!), clip-ons, new rim and brake and just waiting for a master cyclinder and some Water Wetter, Whatever that is.

See you there!

I’m standing in line at the bank. I’m wearing a leather racing jacket and holding a full face helmet. A man and a loan officer walk up to one of the teller windows. Seeing me, the woman says to her client, “Well I certainly hope YOU wear a helmet.”

The guy, wearing some Harley logo stuff, says loudly, “No way. Helmets make crashes worse. It’s been proven. They’re so heavy they make your head hit the pavement, no matter how you fall. I’ve fallen three times and haven’t hurt my head yet.”

As she passed me on the way back to her desk she said, “I’m glad you’re wearing one.”

To which I replied, “I also make a point of not falling down.”

Ha ha ha.

Seriously, where does that shit come from?

How has he never seen a motorcycle race? MotoGP riders crash at 150+ MPH on a pretty regular basis. Not one has ridden bareback, or bare-headed. It’s a pretty well-engineered sport so I think there’d be ample evidence for the theory that your head would float above your body as it slid along the pavement into a guardrail.

Though I must admit the new pastels being sported in MotoGP and WSB are stunning.

Oh my goddess, come to mommy. She’s my new black bottom girl and she’s mine all mine! Now I just need to find a good replacement for that stylin’ seat, unless of course some lucky lady wants to be my First Mate. It’s a 1979 850T, btw and she’s sitting in storage just waiting for the very first nice day when I can go spring her. Anyone want to buy my V50?

I came to Wisconsin and decided I wanted an old toaster BMW. I found out about a BMW club who hung out in Hudson on Saturday mornings and approached them. They were wary, but finally gave me a name: Walter.

Walter has a huge garage. I believe it is smaller than his home. The front is filled with bikes, some in dusty disrepair, like the 850T with the seized engine and then the bright yellow Ducati. Eureka! This old guy and his wife Elaine became our lifelong friends. After tooling around on the Honda Dream my sweetheart had procured from yet another toaster owner in Hudson, I knew I was ready to step up to the 500. I just wasn’t ready to leave the vintage class. Not yet. I ended up selling her right back to Walter when I bought my own Ducati a few years later. And just like Walter, we can’t even park our cars in our own sizable garage–just too many bikes.