Day two started unceremoniously after a restless night of non-sleep, I woke up an hour late. There would be no time for a proper breakfast. No time for an early arrival to the range to check out bikes and ask the pre-ride questions that I had. Our instructors, Frank and Jay, had the selection of bikes out idling to get the batteries fit for duty as they casually downed their coffee. Like a sophomore late for exams, I arrived buttoning my shirt, adjusting my boots and trying to catch up. They shut down the motors as I listened to the range rules: no mounting a bike until the instructor said so. No starting engines until the signal was given. Stand next to the bike that seems right.... They were all smaller than the HOGs I had ridden as a passenger on, but still just a turn of the handlebars gave an indication of their weight. I sidled up to a red Suzuki 125. It had a little chrome and I liked that. I straddled the seat, and was told to get off until instructed to mount up. "I was checking for size to see if I could be flat footed on it...." My instructor commanded my dismount, "not yet, we have stuff to go over first, by the way, it looks good for you..." on with his instructions. My internal speak: 'I am not off to the best start, not how I wanted to commence this adventure...underfed, sleep deprived and very challenged for directions in this class of 13 students' After opening instructions, we were allowed to mount, with no power and just to feel our bikes in our hands. Turn the handlebars left, turn 'em right, find neutral, rock the bike, "power-walk" in first gear... I got this much pretty well. Now I can breathe a little better. It felt doable as I sat and fiddled with my new helmet. A 3/4 face with a nice shield. It fit great, was light weight and didn't smother me like the full face I tried months ago. Everyone's helmet choices were interesting. Only one other lady had a 3/4 face, the other girls had massive full face lids in variety of pink graphics. The men mostly had open face with a couple of shielded lids, but all of them black. We had to wear long sleeves, over the ankle boots/shoes and minimum jeans. As we were on small bikes, I could stop with both feet flat on the ground, we were going no more than 15 mph, on flatish parking lot with no hazards...I opted to leave my chaps in the car and go in jeans, that was a poor choice. With the start up protocol: FINE C (fuel on/ignition on/neutral gear/engine switch on/clutch engaged) we were introduced to the shift pattern. So easy on a bike! From neutral: first is one click down, 2,3,4,5 is one click up once the engine is putting power on the back wheel. I got that, most of the time, though it seemed like my clutch handle was a bit loose and had a wide "friction zone". I should have said so; that was another error. We practiced big slow circles left and then right using the whole parking lot. Going left was easy, really easy for me smiling broadly, the coach mentioned that he saw me light up. 'I can do this!' When it was time to circle right, the throttle is on the right hand grip, now I was showing my rookie side. Every time I tried to negotiate to the right, I'd hit the throttle, panic and close the clutch loosing power and direction. "It's just noise, I'm not worried about it, you shouldn't..." my coach would say every time. It worried me as I couldn't separate the task. After an hour of this, I over steered the bike trying to stay in the clockwise pattern, and dropped the bike. . . on me. It happened so fast, I couldn't get my right foot down to try and correct; so down to the pavement with no chaps and stuck under a 250 lb motorcycle with no crash bars. The iron bike was hard, the ground was harder. I managed to hit the kill switch but couldn't wiggle out, so the coach had to come over and lift it off. I twisted my right knee and ankle thoroughly well. But I was so irritated with myself, I lied about the sprain and got back on. I was shaking and hoped they didn't see that I was addled. I put it in gear and rode back into the staging area as directed, trying to regain some confidence. We all dismounted and walked over to our next exercise review. I was trying to walk straight and not limp or trip...too stubborn to admit that I was bent all the wrongways...My coach asked if I was ok; I lied; "yeah, just a little scuffed" As soon as I could, I found my Arnica and started pumping 4 tablets every 15 minutes, for the rest of the day. In an hour, I felt better. Swinging my leg over the bike was an exercise in soreness, but I was not quitting. I did well enough until mid afternoon when I dropped it a second time. I merely got distracted and lost the balance of the bike. Again to the right. This time, out of pure grit, I picked it up my self and restarted it. I remounted and continued with the exercise. 'I'm not giving up...' this would become my hourly mantra. We were weaving cones, the orange ones I could see and usually do well. The green ones, I couldn't see until there was no time to correct for the assigned pattern. ugh...I'm getting tired and all I could find for lunch was a berry yogurt at the gas station up the road. I'm thinking more seriously about giving up as each exercise is more difficult, more fatiguing, more discouraging. Going to the right is nearly impossible for me and again, I dropped the bike on me. This time, I tried to wriggle out but found the muffler as I tried. As the coaches pulled the bike off, I felt a twinge of heat on my calf. 'I'm not quitting, now I'm mad and I will finish this day' I got back on, visibly exhausted as the coach asked if I was tired. "yes, I am tired" I admitted this. "We're almost done on the range today, we'll go back to the class and cool off, do the last questions and see some videos...you gonna make it?"he encouraged. "Yes, I believe I will." I was the only student who dropped a bike, but 3x was 2 times to many...At some point, I phoned my biker buddy, and confessed: "I bow down to you, I bow down, I bow down,,,you make this look so easy..."as I choked back tears. In the class room, the questions went well, I knew them all. My roller coaster of defeat and exasperation had leveled off and I promised myself to sleep well and see what the morning would bring...I made it this far, I couldn't give up. I'm always telling my kids to stick with it; give it 100% so there will be no regrets, even in defeat...The coach asked what I was thinking. "I wanted to finish the day, wake up in the morning and see how I feel. I'm pretty sore and a little frustrated..." was my humble answer. He smiled, "I was curious what you would say; that's a good plan." I continued:"I'm very stubborn, I could break my leg and I would try to continue...you guys will have to draw the line for me. If I am unsafe to myself or the others, you'll need to stop me...I don't know how to quit anything..." He quietly responded, "that's our job." I walked to my car thinking: 'all's well that ends well, any day you can walk away from is a good day..." What readers need to remember: love~kills~slowly. . .more to come
this is ell