Riding a motorcycle is, as it turns out, hard.
It’s like learning to drive a standard all over again without the hubris of age sixteen. And for someone who is frankly as uncoordinated as I am, instilling the muscle memories or just remembering which appendage controls what, seems like it’s going to take time. All hands and feet are pressed into service simultaneously to run the bike, and it helps if you can keep your shoulders relaxed and not flap your knees outwardly in a reflexive attempt to establish balance.
I passed my first practical exam so after some paperwork at the ministry, the only restriction on my license will be 0 blood alcohol. But I don’t feel ready!! And I feel like I barely passed (which is obviously beside the point because I did pass).
All credit for my progress to date is due to Ginny, Darryl and Leah from Motorsoul in Toronto. They made the prospect of riding a motorcycle so much more plausible, gave each of us in the M1 exit course individual attention, and lavished encouragement and pointed instruction on us that was invaluable when I was growing frustrated with my perceived failings during a lesson. Watching each of them demonstrate skills was a joy, and a benchmark of smooth assuredness that I hope someday to achieve.
Bikes were provided for the course and by the second day, Ginny had gently encouraged me to get on and try the TW200, a smaller dual-sport bike to my taller KTM 690. It’s a small comfort to know that the TW200 was almost as heavy as my own bike so I live in hope that I will find mine manageable. That test comes next – ever so gratefully in an off-road gravel pit where I will have none but A’s patience to try.
My first weekend on a motorcycle was generally a positive experience, and I remain determined to master the bike, but I guess I just don’t feel as triumphant as I hoped. (Yet.)
