The Short and Winding Road I’ll Travel

I simply can’t do the long motorcycle rides anymore. But I enjoy short ones.

Last year, when I was at my heaviest weight, I almost donated my leather riding jacket to charity. Before leaving for our ride around Cape Breton I tried it on. It could either zip up or I could breathe – not both. So, I hung it back up and wore one of Derek’s spare riding jackets instead. It was roomy in the chest and long in the arms. But it did the job. This wasn’t a fashion show anyway, right?

On the long weekend I suggested a brief ride, maybe an hour. With trepidation, I pulled on the jacket. Hurrah! To my great relief, it fit! It’s so comfortable and perfectly worn in. I could sit, breathe and be well protected.

Shorter is Now Better

It wasn’t that many years ago when we would saddle up for a day-long trip on our bikes. I had my own motorcycle then, too, and loved it. But even then, I tired out a lot quicker than the guys who’d been riding all their lives. Motorcycling takes a ton of mental energy. You have to be vigilant and anticipate everything around you because you’re so vulnerable without any metal for protection.

I thought about getting a Spyder or another three-wheeler. But that idea is fading away as I settle into the zone of occasional passenger. Even if that means more often than not, Derek rides with his buddies instead of me.

He will even tell you that it was more tiring than usual last year to ride with both of us and all our gear on board. Add to that a torrential rainstorm, narrow, slippery roads, and looming darkness – danger is draining.

So, we took our hour-long ride to Port Burwell, saw some pretty scenery, and came home. No sooner had I de-Harleyed myself and he said, “Wanna go for a quick trip in the Pontiac?” That’s his other big toy.

The Land Yacht

Off we went again after I put on a fresh layer of sunscreen and a different head covering!

Derek has done things to make it a much smoother ride. (Things I can’t explain, but gearheads will know!) But it irks him to have to store it off-site for the winter. Today’s garages weren’t built to house 1967 Pontiac Le Mans bodies. It’s just a few inches too long.

I am actually not a fan of convertibles. My face blotches in the sunshine and I don’t appreciate having my hair whip my cheeks. It’s not a popular opinion, I realize. The Le Mans is his baby and he loves it so I’m always trying to love it, too.

Phasers on Almost Done

It seems we are easing out of the motorcycle life and easing into the old car world. I can see the day coming when the bike, at 750 pounds, will be a bit too much to comfortably maneuver. Maybe he’ll get a slimmer bike. Or maybe he’ll decide the car (or another car) is enough.

Many years ago, I rode on the back of Derek’s bike as part of a convoy of friends who went to Cape Breton. It was quite an adventure! But once was truly enough. For last year’s trip, we gals flew out to Halifax and our biker partners picked us up. Our butts and nerves just don’t have the stamina they used to.

Getting older is a privilege denied to many. So is owning two big boy toys that compete for attention. But I’m becoming more of a homebody. I thought I’d like to live my whole life on the move, traveling, but now I’m not so sure. For one thing, it’s expensive and we’re not independently wealthy. And for another, I like my bed, my EnVy pillow and my cat. Sometimes the pillow can come with me but the bed and cat never can!