I don’t have to try to impress Judy. And no, she does not ride her own.
I’m digging back in my memory now because Judy and I have been married for 30 years. Before that, however, one tool in my kit that I used to try to win the attentions of a fair young lass was my motorcycle. You never did that, did you? Or course not.
Yeah, how cool to suggest you take a ride on the motorcycle. Only, sometimes it doesn’t work out the way you planned.
Early on I had designs on Donna, a friend I had wanted to be more than friends with for a long time. I thought I might finally get my chance. She was going to be at some camp for a few days up in the Red Feather Lakes area, northwest from Fort Collins. We arranged that rather than coming back with whoever she rode up there with, I would come up on my bike–the CB750 Custom being my only bike at that time–and we would go for a ride and just generally have a nice time. And hopefully more.
I figured how long I thought it should take to get there and headed up her way. It took longer than I expected, though. By the time I reached the camp there was not a soul around. Certainly no Donna. Rats! So I headed on back ended up at the intersection where the road up the Poudre Canyon meets US 287, Ted’s Place. I paused for a minute before turning south on 287.
If I had looked in my mirror–I learned later–I might have seen Donna running toward me. She had gotten a ride to there but now was waiting for someone she called to pick her up. With me being late to the camp she had feared being stuck there alone and me not showing up, so she had not taken the chance of assuming I was just late, but definitely coming. And now there I was but I didn’t see her and I went on alone. Rats.
Then there was the time I was riding with Shelley. It was our first–and only–time on the bike. We were just out cruising around when the bike sputtered to a stop. I reached to flip the petcock to go to Reserve only to find it was already in that position. Oops. We ended up walking a mile and a half to a station and then that same mile and a half back. Shelley was not all bent out of shape about it but suffice it to say we never rode again and nothing ever happened between us.
And then there was that time when I was riding with a different Donna down by Deckers. Also our first time riding–and also our last.
I didn’t know the roads up there as well as I do now so it was unexpected when we found ourselves on gravel. No problem, I’ll just take it slow.
Good thing. We were passing a couple parked cars on the left side of the road, going maybe 5 miles an hour, when a big dog walked out from between them right into our path. I hit the brakes hard and instantly we went down. (This is the only time I have ever gone down while in motion; I have dropped the bike in parking lots and such numerous times.)
The dog was unhurt, we never touched him. And fortunately, other than some small bruises, neither were we. But we were both shaken and the fact that we had no recourse but to run several more miles on gravel didn’t give either of us a lot of confidence. And Donna never rode with me again, though we did connect romantically for a period. At least there was that.
Oh, and by the way, the owner of the dog, who was totally apologetic, promised to pay for any damage and proceeded to give me completely fake contact information. Nice guy.
Later on there have been a couple times I ran out of gas with Judy riding with me but we were married by then so it was OK. Besides, by then I wasn’t trying to impress her, we were just out having a good time. She tolerates me making mistakes now and then.
Biker Quote for Today
“It’s the ride of life the journey from here to there living and loving every moment like we have none to spare.” — Jess “Chief” Brynjulson
