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Thanks for the encouragement MZ33 and cdillon23. And yes, MZ, I would have loved to take the 3 day class. However, I did find out that the experienced driver class was more about actually working out on the course than it was classroom and we never saw even one video. One of the men commented that he had been worried that our class would just be a lot of verbal instruction and videos but the hands on training was something he was glad to see. Me too.
I knew I had already done a lot of reading and I didn't miss any on the written test they gave us at the end of the day. All the other drivers were better drivers than me though. Well, the class was for experienced drivers so I expected that. One guy handled his Goldwing beautifully through all the swerves-and-stops, cones and exercises.
The instructors stayed on my case but it was good for me. I wanted to learn everything I could from them. Once, when I was learning how to make sharp turns in a small area during an exercise. I took one turn too fast and leaned the bike so much that I scraped my kickstand.
I guess that's nothing to most of you reading this but I didn't like it at all! My instructor just grinned when I told him what had happened and we talked about what I did wrong and I went back and did it right.
One guy was driving his sister's bike. It was a beautiful Harley that had long, black fringe hanging off of the handlebars and the footboards and saddle bags. I don't even dream about riding something like that but I can enjoyed looking at it.
Well, MZ33, you asked if anyone gave me any grief about my scooter. I saw a few little smiles on some of the men's faces but they treated me with respect. The instructor asked me right in front of them how long I had been driving so they knew I had only been at it a couple of months with most of my practice being in a field and a small parking lot. They were good bunch of guys.
I was the only woman in the class but when my husband and I went out to lunch, I saw a woman driving a big bike. She wasn't wearing a helmet and she had on a sleeveless top and her face wore a stern "don't mess with me look" on it. When we got back to class I told my Harley driving instructor that I saw a "tough biker chick" and described her to him. He asked me if she had tattoos. I said I didn't notice and he said that would be his kind of woman.
I had to go over and over some things on the course more than anyone else. They had to take extra time with me and everyone seemed cool with it.
I loved being able to have a good place to ride, I kept zipping around the course even during some of the breaks just enjoying myself. There was definitely no showing off going on though. I learned a long time ago that when you are showing off, that's when you can get the most embarrassed. Plus, I don't think I could do anything on my 250 that would impress the Harley and Goldwing riders. lol
I liked running over the plank in the road. (I hope if I ever see one in front of me when I'm out riding that it's positioned exactly like that. What do you think the chances are?) I was glad to learn how to go over it correctly though. I had only read about it and not done it. I was also a little worried about my front wheel because it's only 12 inches. The instructor assured it would be no problem though and it wasn't.
I loved that the instructors were kind but relentless. Sometimes I felt like they just kept at me but they encouraged me too and told me several times that I was doing good.
They also told me that I was riding a lot better at the end of the day. Nobody layed a bike down. I was glad of that.
Hey, cdillon--that was pretty neat that they used your bike in church. Before Jim and I got married, I went to a larger church in a different town and the preacher actually drove his bike up on the stage once. I didn't go there at the time but I sure heard about it. He was always using visual aids during his preaching and needless to say---He was a very interesting preacher.
I look forward to the day I can ride my bike to church. I don't think the Sunday morning ride would be much of a problem because we go in pretty early (we work in the church) but by the time the second service is over the streets are pretty crowded and I want to ease myself into that kind of traffic. One of the men in my book said that starting out with only about five minutes of that kind of driving would be a good thing and then said to add five minutes more each time until you got more used to it.
That's what I am planning to do. My husband and I have already talked about it and we plan to ride together to the library. That will give me about five minutes of town traffic and one stop light.
Well, I'm worn out you all. It's been a great weekend but the thought of cool sheets on a soft bed and the breeze from the ceiling fan carressing me to sleep is too hard to resist.
I hope you all have wonderful weekends too.

Finally, it's the Saturday after my MSF course, no rain on the horizon and we begin to plan our ride to the library about sixteen miles away. This is hard to describe but I will try. Even though we were going by backroad and only the last few miles would be in fairly heavy traffic and I only had one stop light and one intersection to encounter, I began to get very nervous.
If I had gotten jittery, I would have had to call it off but through prayer and reminding myself that I was not going to push myself beyond my comfort limit, I decided to go ahead with it. Frankly, I knew what I was facing--the ride home. We were planning to come back by a main road--still very curvy but one that doesn't meander quite as much. But it has a 55 mile speed limit and we would be passing where I wrecked.
We prayed together and then headed out down the long driveway. I finally loosened up a little during the ride to the library. Everything went well. It was a gorgeous day. My husband almost hit a squirrel that was intent on eating a nut in the middle of the road.
When we got to the library, I was so thankful. I had made it and I had drove okay. My husband headed back out into the heavy traffic and went to a grocery store while I cooled my heels at the library. I found part of a book online written by a woman Harley rider and as I sat there reading it, I was encouraged. Here's the link in case you want to check it out.
http://books.google.com/books?id=Ywzw6z5eZMkC&pg

Because I started riding just a few months ago and had a wreck my second day on my 400, I have had to deal with a more than healthy fear of the road--the kind of fear you shouldn't have and try to drive because it can paralyze you.
The MSF course did help me but this first big ride was very important to me. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Of course riding a 250 Grand Vista isn't the equivalent of riding a Harley and I don't compare myself with Harley riders at all but I do compare myself with other women who have a sense of adventure and love to ride.
My husband returned with catfood and who knows what else strapped on his bike. I was glad to see him and we started to get on our bikes. Some guy was standing outside the library and talked bikes with my hubby for a while. His bike is so old it just attracts attention. It's a 73 Honda CB 450 K6.
The ride home ended out being very enjoyable but as I approached the place where I had wrecked, I felt some of the fear coming back. I just reminded myself that I wasn't going to make the mistakes I made last time. I didn't even look at the place where I went off of the road several months ago. I didn't even glance at the hard dirt and grass hillside me and my bike catapulted over. I kept my head up, went around the curb and speeded up--jubilantly yelling "whoo-hoo!" after I passed by.
I felt as though I had conquered something. A few months ago, I held my breath whenever my husband went around that curb in our car. This time I had returned and this time I had rode through it. No matter what happens after today, I will always know that I came back to the curb and I conquered it. But I will also remember not to proceed through life without caution when caution is waranted. I've learned that I must curb my eagerness and develop patience because everything I went through in the past from my wreck, I brought on myself by my own impatience and immaturity. Kind of sobering for a 53 year old grandmother to admit but the truth is the truth.
We arrived home safely and I thanked God for allowing us the good ride and the beautiful day. And I believe He was pleased to see one of His children enjoying the life He gave them. That's the way good dad's are.

There's been so much rain that we haven't been able to plan trips where we could be gone most of the day but the day finally did come last Friday. I had taken a temporary job to help someone that needed it and I only needed to work a few hours that day. Praise and worship practice was going to be at the church so my husband and I headed out on our bikes. It takes about 40 minutes to get there. I loved every minute.
By Friday afternoon we were still out running errands. I had been to two different towns, right in the middle of some of the heaviest weekend traffic and everything went well. I was burning up though. I was wearing a leather jacket, my riding boots and jeans with knee pads and a helmet. I really need to get one of those jackets that let air pass through them.
A long line of Harley drivers passed us going in the opposite direction and they were giving me and my hubby the biker wave. It was fun although my husband said they were waving at him and not me on my little Grand Vista. However, I feel that if a girl riding on the back of a Harley can be giving the biker wave, I can too. They were and I did.
I drove to work later too and at 12:00 my husband drove down and I followed him home. He didn't think I was ready to be out riding by myself at night and since it was about a 30 minute ride home---I agreed.
That's when I saw the ghost rider. No one told me that when you ride beneath street lamps at night, a perfect shadow of a biker rides over you and goes smoothly on down the road. It weirded me out at first but it was neat.
When we got to the country road that goes out to our house, I kept hoping a possum wouldn't jiggle out in front of me while I was going around a curve and wishing I had a bigger front tire.
When I pulled in our drive, I hated for the ride to end. Finally, I had really driven my bike on a fairly long trip and been gone most of the day. It was exhiliarating. My husband complimented me and said I was getting better. I loved travelling behind him and getting to share our trip together. We had so much to talk about at every stop during the day---the old lady who pulled out in front of us---the big pot hole in the road he signaled for me to see---the small amount of gas my bike used and the thrill of travelling along that weaving country lane I had been wanting to ride ever since I started learning.
A couple of weeks ago when I was driving my car on I-75, a guy came flying around me on his bike and to my horror, went between the two cars in front of him, splitting the lane. He was probably doing around 90 mph. We were coming to an exit a moment later and when I took it, I saw him sitting there at the red light at the intersection. Because we were turning different directions, I was able to pull up beside him. I rolled (or whatever you say you do for electric windows) my window down and he looked at me and noticed that I was wanting to talk to him. "I hope you don't get killed," I told him. "I will be praying for you." And I meant it and I have. But he replied: "I've gotta go sometime."
You know, I never understood that kind of thinking. I've heard people use that as an excuse to continue smoking. (Heck, I over-eat but I don't use that as the excuse for it.) I watched my dad die of lung cancer. He was a dedicated smoker for 40 years and he died a horrible, painful death. A few months before he started having problems, he could walk a ladder around a house and work on it without getting off. He planted a big garden and enjoyed his life. When he found out he had cancer, he immediately quit smoking but it was too late. Yeah, we all have to go sometime unless Jesus returns first, and it's true that we could get taken out in one of a million ways that had nothing to do with bringing it on ourselves but I believe we should be grateful enough for the life we've been given to at least not throw it away.
But if I do go, I don't want to leave this life because I was being fool-hardy. Hopefully, that young rider will live to settle down and realize how precious life is. After all, doesn't he want to be alive to ride to ride another day?

I never felt satisfied with the poem that begins this blog and after thinking about it, I added the ending it needed to bring the two scenes together and finish saying what I wanted to say. So here's my old poem with a new ending.

Untouching

I might as well have been on the edge of the world
Getting ready to jump off
according to the weak, sick feeling running through my veins.
Bike between my legs—motor running—highway before me
And I’m scared—new biker scared—babe in the woods scared.
So scared I couldn’t even imagine what I wanted the wheels to do—
So scared I couldn’t believe that the motorcycle would obey me
And lean to the left
to smoothly cross the yellow line and transport me on down the road.

I make a loser’s attempt—knowing while I did it that I
Should have leaned more—should have turned the throttle more
And two heart-pounding seconds later, I am on the other side of the road
Feet on the pavement in failure—off the road as far as I can get
Without going into the yard that only a few seconds ago had been across the street from me.

I stood there straddling my cycle—in a state of shameful terror, unable to even swallow and then—I saw a woman walking towards me.
She was going to her mailbox
While I sat there---shaking---dry-mouthed--- watching her
She got her mail without acknowledging me
Without even looking at me----and turned to walk slowly back down her sidewalk
Head bent
While she searched her mail.

And through the tumult still going on underneath my helmet
I wondered
If a car had swooped down over the hill and knocked me into the air to land at her feet
Broken like a bird that slammed into a windshield
Would she have noticed me then?

I think so. I think she might have even forgotten her mail—maybe even dropped it to the ground before she screamed.

But why do I have to meet death
To even be acknowledged
By my neighbor?

As the number of roads I have traveled since
come between me and that day
the recollection of the fear I felt
at that intersection in time
has lessoned

but the memory of the distance that separates two people
--the distance that has nothing to do with space--
has revealed a chasm to me
--one that I am still afraid
we will never negotiate.

I can hear the sounds of my husband tinkering in the garage. He's working on his bike. He's also ordered some of the fancy little lights that go around the license plate. He's been walking from the garage to the house muttering about losing some screws or something as he passes by me. He doesn't expect me to comment--just to be there to listen--then he closes the door again and he's gone.
It's been hard for me to write anything because I've been so involved in Richard's (SV Wolf's) bike blog. Whenever I come to this site, I just want to read what's happened next with him. As I'm sure anyone reading this blog would know, Richard started his blog several years ago. I'm new to the site and he's a prolific writer so I'm always playing catch up. But it's a good game because what reader has not hated for a good book to end? That's the way it is with me concerning Richard's blog. His take on so many things is dead on, his wording and phrasing is absolutely poetic much of the time and his blog makes for a lot better reading than many books I have wasted my time on.
But, as for me, I've been riding---and riding a lot. There have been days when (my husband just walked by me again and tapped me on the head on his way back to the garage. I heard the sound of tools clinking as he passed by. Why was he in the dining room? Who knows! I dare not ask or I will get some long reply as he happily describes the mechanics of fixing things on a bike which are just wizardry to me.) Anyway, to continue my thought: there have been days when we stayed out doing errands almost all day---me happily buzzing along behind him. The only place I haven't ridden yet is the interstate. I'm taking my curves better but I'm still very careful.
In fact, we spent most of the day out today. A few weeks ago, I took a temp job in town just because they were advertising it at such a good hourly rate that it seemed a shame to pass it by. (We're retired.) So, I went into town every day and worked for a call center. I helped people from all over the U.S. set up their converter boxes and get television again as the conversion from analogue to digital was taking place. It was a cool job because I got the privelege of helping a lot of people and cooler still: it was temporary. lol Anyway, I took some of my earnings (so weird to get a paycheck again) and bought a new jacket. I am no longer wearing my husband's heavy, hot leather one but now am gussied up in a neon bright orange contraption that will help me not feel like I'm on the verge of sun-stroke on hot days. It has body armor and though I know that the material it's made of is not as protective as the leather I was wearing, I really like the fact that it is much more noticeable.
I met a nice lady at the shop who rides a Harley softail. We talked about me getting my strength back (see previous posts where I describe my surgeries) and how I believe my Grand Vista is right for me at this time.
On the way home, we were travelling down one of the few straight strips and my husband had got a little ahead of me. The fastest I had ever had my GV was 71 mph on a highway near the library. I decided to see if it really would do 75 and more as I had been told. When I got it up to 78, I let off the throttle. I didn't want to see anymore but I am impressed with my little scooter. And to think someone asked me the other day in the Wal-Mart parking lot if it was a moped.
However, I will say that my husband and I had tested the GV different times and we believe the speedometer shows itself 4 to 5 mph faster than what it's really doing. That's pretty common with scooters according to some of the stuff I've read. I wonder why? I mean, is the reason really as obvious as they just want to make you think you're going faster than you are? Does anyone out there know?
I'm not interested in taking my bike up to that speed again though. I was just curious.
Tomorrow is church and I would love to ride my bike there but rain is in the forecast. We're getting ready to go watch the fireworks tonight downtown but rain is forecast for this evening too so we don't know if they'll get to do the whole show or not. As of the moment, it's not raining yet. I'm in the mood for some good fireworks. I can remember other times, other years, watching fireworks with other people from my life and I'm happy to say that I would rather be watching them with my Jim than anyone in the world.
I hope you all had a wonderful 4th also!!! And Richard, if you ever read my blog I'd like to say this to you: keep up the good work on your blog. As long as you will keep writing, I will definitely keep reading!

Praise and worship practice was today so we looked at where the rain was on the weather map and headed out hoping to beat it. I haven't driven in the rain yet and don't have a rain suit either. The ride takes about 40 minutes and I love every single one of them.
First, there's the two lane highway with its fast drivers and curves and then the road we turn off on to take a back way in. It's narrow and very curvy and much less traveled. It meanders through a quiet little community before coming to a very busy intersection. But the road that we crossed over to is full of ups and downs and curves and is just plain fun. I was shocked to actually see a transfer truck on it one day. I hope if I ever meet him on that narrow road, he manages to let me have a little bit of it!
When we got to church, I found out that a group ride had been approved by the board. I'm so excited. I've even thought of a name for us but I don't know if everyone else will like it. We're going to do a run to sponser a missionary from our church who lives part of the time in Haiti. Half way through, we're going to have a picnic. I want to call us the "Uncaged". Isn't that a great name? Not only are we freed from the cages physically, we are freed from the bonds that sin holds us in! Praise God! I get excited just thinking about it.
When we stopped at the library on the way home, we saw a guy from our church on his bike and we rode with him to his house. He hasn't had his bike long and was glad to have someone to ride with. He was excited about the church ride too.
Then, on the ride home, (my husband usually gets pretty far ahead of me because I take the curves slower) I found that I was keeping up with my husband and it was comfortable to do so. I definitely don't want to try to ride above my ability but I was pleased to see that I was doing better.
Still, every time I get out, I always learn something and have something to think about when I come home to make me be a better rider next time.
One thing happened that could have had a terrible consequence but, thank God, it didn't: At stop lights, I ride up next to my husband. When it turns green, he takes off first and then I follow. Well, he had pulled off for something in town and I passed him. He rejoined me at a light and I looked over at him and told him to go ahead---meaning of course, that he was to resume the lead. However, he didn't take it the way and pulled out on a red light. Now, you and I know that wasn't my fault and he did catch himself and stop before running it completely but I will never tell him to go ahead again at a red light. lol
On a different note entirely: My son is up to the last third of his Marine boot camp. I'm so excited for him. He's doing well and I am very proud of him. You know, having my son in the armed forces has personalized the war to me in a way I never wanted to happen. Still, it reminds me that there are other parents out there who wait for their child to come home and it helps me remember them and their children in my prayers.
According to my son, he will be going to Afghanistan. I would appreciate your prayers for him and if anyone wants to tell me about someone on your heart who is in the armed forces, let me know and I will be glad to pray for them.

Saturday, I had the pleasure of riding with my brother and my husband to the Harley Grand opening in London, Ky. When we got there I had to dodge people just to drive through the parking lot. It was hard to find a place to sqeeze a bike in too, there were so many there. There were lots of great looking bikes and people from all over. I saw plenty of people riding in without helmets. My doctor said that he calls them "organ donors". I have a friend who has a son that is an EMT. She said the EMT's call them "job security."
I wondered how some of the women kept their hair looking so good after just stepping off a bike. I saw a few women riding their own Harleys too but mostly it was men with women riding on the back.
My brother announced that he had done something he never does. After gassing up, he had forgotten to put his gloves on. He saw one fly off the bike after we left and didn't notice when the other one had taken its leave. I thought we should go back and hunt for them but he didn't want to do that even though he paid over $30.00 for them. I got to thinking about it though and told my husband that people don't usually stop to pick a glove up off of the road and that I thought they might still be back there. A few hours later, after leaving the Harley place and eating at a Mexican restaurant in town, we headed home. My husband was in the lead and he signaled me twice and pulled over. He had spotted both gloves. They were pretty far apart but he and my brother drove back and got them. (I figured I'd just be in the way of the much more experienced bikers so I just waited.) They came back with both gloves!
Well, back to the Grand Opening: The band was playing some real old country music--stuff I hadn't heard in years---like---"I've Got a Tiger by the Tail it's Plain to See." Hats off to Buck Owens. It made me remember the days I used to see him on Hee Haw. The band was good. I particularly enjoyed the man who played the fiddle. I don't know his name but I wish I could play like him.
We saw some people there that my husband knew who had a biker ministry. Whenever I'm in a crowd, I can't help but wonder how many of them are lost. It seems as though there's so many to reach but so few ready to reach out and so few willing to listen. I was talking to a man on the phone the other day who wanted me to pray for some people he loved but he freely admitted he didn't have things right in his own heart.
It was interesting to note that he raised his voice and told me in no uncertain terms what should be in my heart though if I were a "real" Christian. He really didn't want to hear anything I had to say and I let him bully me a little bit as I acquiesced to him. (I don't try to force my choice on anyone else but I encounter so many people who are real obstinate about making sure I know what they believe but point out almost in the same breath that they don't believe I should be sharing my faith. I guess it's hard for people to understand that this thing has taken roots in me, turned my life around and shown me more truth about myself than anything or anyone in my life before. I've been saved for 25 years now and I don't regret a minute of it.)
However, if he had let me talk, I would have been glad to tell him that it wasn't about how good he is or how good I am---It's about how good Jesus is. I mean, he can use every fault he has as an excuse not to give his life to someone who was willing to give His life for him, but he had the wrong idea. Jesus doesn't look down some list to see if you qualify to come to Him. It says in the Bible that "Whosoever will" can come to Him.
I saw so many hardened faces at the opening. I saw lots of friendly faces too. I saw pretty women and handsome men and old bikers and young ones too. I saw people that had ragtag bikes and I saw people who had bikes that were so exquisite, I'd probably have to mortgage my house to buy them. I don't know how many people were saved and how many weren't but I did know one thing: No one in there was beyond the saving power of the blood of Jesus--not one.
So, in case you are looking for a true Friend, One who will be there no matter who you're with or where you are, look to Jesus and remember: It's not about what you've done. It's about what He did for you.

It takes about 40 minutes to get to our church and now instead of a boring old ride in a car, I've had the pleasure of scooting it on my GV250 the last two nights. We've been participating in the Bible school going on and it's given us a great excuse to ride.
I really don't care for riding at night though I've done it several times now. (It's going on dark by the time we get out.) We live so far out in the country that I always worry about deer but mostly I dread coming across a 'possum or a skunk in a curve. You see that all the time around here.
I'm really thinking about getting a bigger bike with a bigger front tire. The other night, I talked to a lady that I saw gassing up her bike while my hubby was gassing up his. She rides a 750 Shadow. Her other bike is a Harley. We talked about the classes that are going to start at the Harley dealership soon. I'm interested and I'm thinking about it. She told me that all their employees are required to have a motorcycle license. I've already got mine but I still don't know how to do the gears. I love a scooter though and my dream bike right now would be a Silverwing. I'm afraid that's a little too much bike for me right now. So, I just keep asking God to please keep his deer and 'possums out of my path or give me the wisdom to avoid them---one or the other. I know what I'm supposed to do but sometimes even reacting the way you're supposed to doesn't mean you won't go down.
Except for being extra watchful for the nocturnal animals and the aggravating bright lights of some vehicles who's drivers have forgotten or don't bother to dim---driving at night is special. I love the fresh smell of the woods and the cold pockets of bracing night air that hit you in some of the valleys as we drive by and looking up to see a beautiful moon on its own path. I just wish cars going 65 and 70 wouldn't rush upon my butt!!!

I was just thinking about all of you out there and your different circumstances and lives. It's funny how doing something like riding on two wheels can give you a feeling of comradarie. I still love giving the biker wave and I think I always will. I wonder if I've ever went by any of you all and if we've waved at one another. I still don't wave in the curves though!
We're getting ready to leave for a vacation soon. Several members of my family are going. In my heart, I wish I could ride my bike. I've about decided to get a Yamaha Majesty. That's what I had before and wrecked two days after I got it. If you've read my posts, I think I told the story of how I was out scooting down the road at 60 mph, leaning in the curves and riding fine two days after I bought the Yamaha. I thought I was just a natural rider. lol But on my second trip out that day, I had someone in a car get closer and closer from the rear. I wasn't even used to looking in my rearview mirrors yet and when I did, I was so scared at what I saw going on behind me that I failed to keep a proper eye on the road.
I slowed down and I guess I was doing 35 or 40 when I looked up and saw myself going over the edge of the road, into a ditch and over the side of a hill. I only had time to say "help me, Jesus!" before I went tumbling. I destroyed my bike and battered up a few of my body parts that are still not the same to this day. That's what they call "learning from the school of hard knocks."
Anyway, it took a while for me to recover and I didn't know if I would ever get out there on two wheels again. But I couldn't stay away. So, now, I feel as though I've come full circle. I want my Majesty back. I have the MSF class under my belt, my motorcycle license, lots of practice and a much more humble rider sits on my bike now. And the one thing I've learned from all this---maybe the most important thing----is how little I know.
That's the way it was for me in college too. I was a late-bloomer, late forties, tripping and trying to keep up with kids young enough to be my own children and I just kept learning how little I knew.
You know, I believe with all my heart that heaven's going to be like that. We've got our little human imaginations and we're trying to comprehend the mind of an Almighty Father who formed moving worlds. I've heard some people say they are afraid heaven will be a boring place. Come on. Do they really not understand that their brain was created and given ability by the One who created everything? I believe heaven is going to be so utterly fantastic it's going to blow us all away and the whole time, we'll probably just be learning how little we really knew.