Motorcycles are H-O-T

I can’t believe I’m turning 40 in a few months and I’ve just learned this now: motorcycles are hot. I don’t mean hot like the exhaust pipe will cause third degree burns to your leg if you brush against it (which it will). I mean hot like sexy, super sexy.

This past weekend a friend asked casually if I wanted to go for a ride on his bike. I’m usually up for pretty much anything, so I said sure, why not. 

As he pulled up on his bike, my heart began to race. What was I thinking, agreeing to throw myself onto the back of this death machine? I pictured my body being flung off into a ditch, rocks tearing easily through my Old Navy fleece pants, helmeted head lying at an awkward angle from the rest of my mangled body.

He glanced at me and paused. ‘You ok?’

Deep breath. ‘Yup, just a little bit nervous. I’ll be ok. Let’s do this.’

He slid the helmet onto my (apparently large) head, I hopped onto the back and he started up the engine.

As we began rolling down the road, I hung onto him for dear life. I worried about the little rocks on the road under the wheels, remembering how easily those rocks can throw off the balance of my bicycle tires.

‘So, um, this bike is pretty steady on gravel?’

‘Oh yeah, this one’s great on gravel. I could even take if off-road if I wanted to. How are you feeling about the speed?’

‘So far so good. If we stay at this speed, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘OK, well, we’re going 25 km/h, so I’ll probably speed up a little bit once we get onto a main road.’

Oh my god, speed up? Deep breath. I never would’ve imagined 25 km/h feeling fast to me, but at that moment I couldn’t imagine going any faster. I hung on a little tighter.

We slowly made our way through beautiful forested roads, lakeside trails and vast farmland. With every mile, I slowly loosened my grip, settled into my seat, and began to be able to soak it all in.

That’s when I started to realize how completely exciting it was – the vibration of the motor beneath me, my body pressed up against a strong man who literally has my life in his hands (and who I trust completely with my life), my legs gripping him tighter as we lean through turns. Holy mother of God, I thought, this is HOT.

Ladies, I don’t want to get all 50 Shades of Grey on you, but trust me: if you’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle, you need to add this to your bucket list… nowMy heart is racing again just thinking about it.

We rode around all afternoon exploring the area, stopping off at little bays and beaches, quiet diners along rural roads. As we rode, I stretched my arms out, lifted my face to the sky, listened to the flapping of my jacket sleeves in the wind. It’s the closest I’ve come to feeling like I’m flying while still on land. By the end, we were racing along at 90 km/h on a long open road, feeling free and invincible.

That night I didn’t sleep much, the excitement still coursing through my veins.  Life is a gift, and every minute I was riding on the back of that motorcycle I was squeezing every little bit of life out of every moment. That was a day well lived.

After I dismounted and shook the helmet head out of my hair, he grinned, gave me a look like he was impressed and said, ‘You’re a great passenger.’

Well, this girl is sold. I feel like I’ve just been let in on a huge secret and I’ll be a passenger again any day.


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