Two weeks ago, my husband bought a Harley. That was when he officially became one of the guys who, as a teen, I was not allowed to date. (Motorcycle Guy and Van Guy were the two types of guy against which my parents voiced strong objections.)
Shortly after he purchased this vehicle, he started asking me when I was going to ride it with him. I had all the appropriate equipment – a DOT-approved helmet, a heavy leather jacket, boots, and an official Harley-Davidson girly shirt with little rhinestones on it. Ready as I was gonna get.
Monday, we went for our first ride together.
Me: “Is my helmet on tight enough?” Him: “Yes.”
Me: “Do I lean with you or against you on turns?” Him: “Don’t lean at all.”
Me: “So, not the opposite way from what you’re leaning, either?” Him: “No. Don’t lean at all.”
Me: “Do you think this seat-back is all the way bolted on? Like, maybe they just put it on for the showroom and never –” Him: “It’s bolted on.”
Me: “So what do I do if you have to stop suddenly?” Him: “Hold on.”
Me: “To what?”
Me: “Aaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Our first ride lasted about an hour. We cruised down the backroads of rural LaPorte County, avoiding potholes and looking at the scenery, which at this time of year consists mainly of blooming trees and unplanted cornfields. Somewhere, someone was burning last year’s leaves or starting a bonfire. On a motorcycle, you really notice how different the outdoors smell as you’re flying past. (Note to Mom, Dad, and law enforcement: By “flying,” I mean “obeying the posted speed limit.” Really.)
I found out later that, despite our 52 miles of riding, that motorcycle ownership is really not about riding the actual motorcycle. It is about living the “biker lifestyle,” by which I mean cleaning and polishing the bike. This seems to be the main activity involved in motorcycle ownership. Every evening since buying this thing, my husband has retired to the garage to improve the appearance of his “chrome” (the shiny silver parts). This very manly activity invariably attracts other neighborhood guys to the area, which also seems to be a big part of The Biker Lifestyle – large groups of burly men discussing things like “baffles.”
As we congregated in the garage to observe the nightly polishing of the chrome, my husband made the following statement to the guy standing next to me:
“Dude, pass me my foam finger.”
This was a special polishing mitt he had been using to buff the chrome. But I thought to myself, how else but by living the Biker Lifestyle could you hear words put together just that way? So I said, “Dude, that is so going in my blog.”
Tags: allison ruffing, bike, biker, harley, harley-davidson, motorcycle
You are learning fast Allison, you are learning fast. You will find that most “proud” Harley owners tend to clean the bike more than they actually ride it in the beginning. But I will let you in on a secret from another fellow Harley wife, they say it eventually wears after time. Personally I can not speak for myself just yet as my husband is just closing in on a year of ownership. He still keeps up on his regularly. Just wait he will be asking when you are going to get out and help because as they say “nobody rides for free.” Myself, I have yet to touch a polish rag to ours. Just tell him you are enough to pretty up the bike. By the way, you look great on the bike!!
Hey, thanks!!
Glad the obsession will decrease over time. Well, probably. :-)