She’d been waiting for this day to come for months. The anticipation had started when we bought a helmet, a smaller, full-face version of my modular HJC. It had been followed a two months later by a pair of Ladies’ size 6.5 motorcycle boots during a spring sale. As the weather turned warm and spring finally took hold in South Dakota, I finished the ensemble with the purchase of gloves, a multi-layer textile jacket with built-in CE armor, and a pair of armored riding jeans.
The sound of the UPS man dropping the final Revzilla box into the garage signalled that the day was here. The Wing-girl was ready. A bit timid though. As we scooted to the edge of the driveway, she wrapped her arms around me and asked if we had to go down the hill? Yes, my child, we did. There’s no direction off the top of this small hill that doesn’t lead down.
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| Happy new rider. |
We rolled into the parking lot for one of the local parks and practiced slow speed maneuvering for a few minutes. I wanted her to get the feel of leaning with me, and learn to trust that we weren’t going to suddenly tip over. I asked if she was ready to go farther, to take a ride out to one of my favorite burger joints.
Pulling away from stoplights gave her a taste for acceleration. After dinner, she asked if we could take the freeway home. “Okay.” I can’t hear a whole lot at freeway speeds beyond wind and engine noise, but I could sure hear some musical tinkling laughter every time I goosed the throttle to get up to freeways speeds. Someone is hooked, and I’ve got a new passenger, at least until she’s old enough to get her own ride.