Late last year I lost a close friend to cancer. We rode everywhere, any weather, any bike, any excuse. Doing dumb, dangerous and fun things. We were so close you couldn't put a feeler gauge between us. At times it was hard to work out whether he was my twin brother or a friend. Like running out of fuel and sharing it, so in the end we both had to push our bikes. Did we think of one going to get the petrol, and bringing it back to the other? Not on your life. Even his illness was an excuse to go riding, I've lost count of the number of last rides we did.
Earlier this year my youngest daughter returned home. Since she has been back, she's been asking to be taken for a ride on the Ducati. With winter approaching and comfortable pillion weather rapidly disappearing, I felt I should do my Dad duty.
So, after a quick reminder about the “leaning thingee”, we prepared. Mothers helmet (not a hat), boots (1 size too big), leathers (not domanitrix gear) and gloves (not mittens) were all put on. I wasn't sure if I had a daughter or a refugee from the germ warfare centre when she was dressed. We headed outside. Ol Red saw her coming and whispered to me, “No, please no, not a novice”. I gave him a not too gentle kick in the clutch cover, reminding him that he was my only son, and therefore, she was his sister. That clinched it.
We headed out, my daughters riding style changed from- The grizzly bear death hug, to, hey isn't it cool up here, to, can't we go any faster, to, go lower I want to touch my knee down like Foggy used to. To her it was fun, adrenaline and a measure of total trust she doesn't often display
For me it was like the old times, riding with a person who was more than just someone. A person you trust and they trusting you, the margin of error allowed for fun but not excessive adrenaline. The bike loved it, I loved it and most importantly she loved it. She didn't come back scared, and she wants to go again. (Hmmm, I think mother has had a quiet word, pulled rank and said it's her turn next.)
Most importantly it made me want to ride again. Some memories were laid to rest, others revisited and new ones made. It could only have been my wife or one of my daughters that I could have shared, those feelings of closure and renewal with. There are just some people and some things that go together. Do they know what this ride meant to me? Well, from the grin on my face they knew I had enjoyed the ride. And after all, isn't that all anyone needs to go out again. Some things are just made to enjoy and riding is one of those, believe me pillions are as much fun as a twist of the wrist.