SECOND-TIME RIDER Second-time riding behind him on his motorbike This is his realm and I am invited to join him I was never frightened as I trust him Only nervous because I lacked understanding Of a mechanics and etiquette he has known for years First time, I was only semi-clad in a leather jacket This time, I have padded protective pants to match Tipping me a little off-balance My girth increased by padding, I am unaccustomed to the slight increase in strength to lift my feet up steps- Tripping and needing him to do my stiff jacket zip up for me. I feel like an un-coordinated adolescent coping with a pubertal body And look like exactly what I am- New to understanding what it means to ride. It takes me twice as long as him to secure my helmet As I fumble although I know what to do. He nods in signal for me to slide on behind him And later I kick myself when I forget to await his invite When I know the importance of his readiness for my extra weight First ride, I slid forward in the seat with gear changes Stops and starts Not knowing what to hold onto but his waist Bumping my helmet into his Feeling like I weighed three times as much as I do Second-time, I lightly grip a rear railing Which allows me to keep my weight off him But at first, I over-compensate and sit too far away And before we take on the twists and turns of the climbing road He pulls on my thigh to come closer, Reminding me we need to sit together as one. It is an intimacy difficult to describe I know from last time to tuck in close in acceleration, Mindful now of what he will do next And how it affects me for in turn, I affect him Keeping my eye on his opportunities to overtake And steadying my position on the seat So I do not impede his motion. Beneath my visor, I am smiling gently, Although I wish I was an invisible, weightless passenger- For his sake at least. Behind him, I am less self-conscious Like someone who sings in tune only if no-one can hear. I enjoy the conspicuous anonymity Created by helmet and leather, Remembering peering at motorcylists from the footpath with ignorant curiosity. Fleeting landscape and wind I replicate his movements and posture For he has ridden most of his life. The hypnotic joy of mimicry, blending and unification Makes the ride pass quickly. It must be different for him as he is in control And I don’t envy his responsibility Yet strangely, his relaxed comfort in his role Is something which I emulate too. I researched how to respond when he takes corners- To look over his right shoulder if he is turning right Guaranteeing my weight will distribute correctly. How tempting it is to look the other way My mind shying away from seeing the lean of the bike And closeness of the ground I kept my shoulders aligned with his But next time, I will look a over his left shoulder as we veer left- Now that I understand why. Still fully clad and head pleasantly spinning, I dismount guided by his nod Unbalanced and heavier than I am used to- I am clumsy on my feet- Inadequacy of my legs to travel Highlighting why humans sought out two wheels and a motor Yet why bikers rejected the bulky containment of an automobile Which seems more like a ‘tardis’ of travel and traffic Rather than a therapeutic sensation of active destination. I almost have no right to comment on enjoying the ride As he laughs at me when I say, ‘I can see why people ride motorbikes’. Teasing, he asks, ‘Are you going to go out and buy a road bike? Poking fun like I do at people who are novice artists When I have drawn and painted for twenty years. We are not really mocking them It is just amusing to see someone in a different light And I think we doubt there persistence to stay. In time, we welcome them and enjoy imparting knowledge When we realise they are keen to learn Although at times, scared to ask. He does not look like a biker without his leathers- Nor do I But he thinks like a biker for his experience feeds his intuition. He told me to wear my leathers with pride At first I laughed at myself with all my stereotypes of motorcyclists flashing before my eyes Like the first time I wore my jujitsu gi as a white belt. Essentially, I mocked myself Next time, I will walk proud just as I stand proud in my green-belt. Quell your inhibitions to add to your identity My appreciation of riding behind him on his motorcycle will dramatically differ from his life-long passion- And rightly so But I hope he invites me to join him a third time So I can walk beside him in my heavy pants, leather jacket, gloves and helmet And this time, not trip over my feet. Michelle van Eps August 2013 (written after ride to Maleny with Dale)
Posted on: Mon, 19 Aug 2013 06:32:33 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015