Bill, the carpet
cleaner technician, lifted his gaze after 30 minutes spent surveying our floors
and dragging in his equipment. He caught a glimpse of Big Red under cover on
the patio. “Hey! Whose motorcycle?”
“Mine,” I said,
moving right into my proud WingWoman posture.
“That’s a
Goldwing!”
“Yep,” I beamed.
Wide-eyed, Bill
turned and seemed to size me up. I could see a flash of admiration cross his
face as he said, “I could never ride one of those.” Then he went on to talk
about the discomfort and uneasiness of being unable to stand flat-footed and
hold the bike up when stopped. “Those things are heavy,” he said, nodding at
Big Red.
Like many others,
Bill didn’t expect to discover that I am a motorcyclist. His surprise has been
the typical reaction. Over the last 25 years, countless middle school students,
members of my social and service clubs, and strangers on the road have been
shocked at this news.
The people we
encounter while on a trip ask questions that women riders find hilarious. “Did
you ride that thing all the way here!?” and “Where are your men?” are two
favorites. When one friend and I stopped for a bite to eat in one of the
southern states and the clerk asked where our men were, my friend answered, “Oh,
we buried them in the backyard when we built the swimming pool.” That remark got us
some weird looks.
 |
| Sylvia, Virginia, Laurie, & me - US Hwy 50 in Nevada |
Though the number
of women riders has increased and women are the fastest-growing group
purchasing new motorcycles, many folks retain the stereotype of the “biker babe”
decorating the seat behind the man. So they are amazed that a woman can handle
her own bike.
And, there’s
still that image from biker movies of the rough, tough, burly, tattooed “Hell’s
Angel.”
Once people meet
a real motorcyclist, they realize we are everyday, hard-working, fun-loving individuals.
It’s just that we are willing to take calculated risks and seek adventure, fun,
and new vistas. The freedom of the road calls, and the hum of our engines and wheels
soothes. On our motorcycles, we are at one with nature and ourselves.
 |
| California Poppy Preserve |
What’s your
impression of the motorcyclists you’ve met along the way?
~
xoA ~
It's funny how we make associations with objects that, when you think about it, are just objects. Like the idea that motorcycles are only for men or for a certain type of person. But, I guess a motorcycle is just a motorcycle.
ReplyDeleteI have to admit, I was mostly surprised that a lady as kind as you would ride a motorcycle. Because it isn't just men I see riding motorcycles, it's roughneck men. I'm used to women breaking barriers. But a kind-spirited lady on a motorcycle? It took a little longer for my mind to settle into that one. I guess if you were mean it would have made more sense to me :)
It bugs me that I have these prejudices.
I loved that you shared what you feel when you ride your motorcycle. This is the first time that I've gotten a sense of what it means to you. I knew it meant a lot because you take the time to write about it. But that last paragraph gave me so much insight!
Mandy, thank you for taking the time to respond with your thoughts. The old saying, "You can't judge a book by its cover." is definitely true. Thanks, too, for your insight about my last paragraph. I need to try to show more of my feelings in my writing. I'm working on it. xoA
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