Class in motorycling offers a life lesson
If everything had gone as planned, VISTA and the Peace Corps would be on my resume; solutions to the world’s problems would’ve been discovered. That’s what I thought when I was 18; why not when I’m 64?
“I wrote that song when I was 16,” said Beatle Paul McCartney discussing his song “When I’m 64” in a radio interview. “Sixty-four sounded so old then. Now that I’m almost there, it’s not that old!”
Like Paul, our generation had far-flung notions on aging.
We believed that at 50, a passel of “Veras, Chucks and Daves” would be atop our knees ready for a rousing story of “Winnie the Pooh.” Barbecues and homespun holidays bubbling with the warmth of a Hallmark commercial would be a sure thing.
Strange how life charts its own course.
Our kids are not married, grandchildren are a fading glimmer, and barbecues consist of dragging the contraption to the back door and cooking a couple of burgers while watching “American Chopper.”
But the adventure continues.
“Keep your head up, eyes on the horizon!” MST instructors Leisa Collins and Maureen “Mo” Kenney repeatedly said. “If you look at the ground, you’ll go to the ground.”
Thus began my weekend of Motorcycle Safety Training, a $100 course provided by Washington state in conjunction with West Side Honda and a far cry from the Peace Corps.
At the age of 50, I was embarking on a bold adventure while visions of a Dyna Low Rider rumbled in my head.
Nowhere in the book of life did it say that learning to ride a motorcycle at 50 was a good idea, but then the book of life didn’t mention that by age 50 I’d have more gas than a tanker truck. Indeed, strange.
So strange that I sought opinions to validate my weird notions on aging. I met with a panel of life experts (OK, three amigas) at lunch.
“Oh yeah, anyone over 40 was ancient,” Robin said. “Now I work for a guy who looks like he’s 12. What’s with that?”
“Words. That’s what’s killing me,” Sandi piped up. “The other night I couldn’t remember the word meatloaf. Can you believe it! Meatloaf. Egad.”
We weren’t even talking about memory loss, but it does top the list of aging concerns. If the sticky notes covering my dash fell off, I wouldn’t know how to get home.
Memory experts have ways to keep minds sharp.
Crossword puzzles, reading, and exercising keep the mind active. Organic foods and nutrition keep the mind strong.
But the number one way to keep the mind alert is to learn something new – something like motorcycle riding, perhaps?
“Heads up!” Leisa said with a confident grin.
Do I really want to do this? I asked myself. More importantly, can I? These questions remained unanswered as I mounted the bike and started the engine.
The bike lurched forward while the litany of clutch, throttle and brake played through my mind. With each successful maneuver, confidence was gained, and with each mistake, fear returned.
By Sunday, we were in the throes of our “celebration of skills” (aka, a test). If successful, a motorcycle endorsement would be in our throttle-controlling hands.
The motorcycle crawled forward in the svelte and swervy S box, my new nemesis. I stared at the lines as the bike leaned and my foot touched the ground.
“Look up at my eyes,” MST instructor Mike Nelms said during my second go-round on the course.
“Turn the wheel,” he said. “Look at my eyes!” The S box was conquered.
Discoveries – ya’ gotta love ‘em. Standing in the early morning cold, vacillating between giving up or learning to use four limbs simultaneously and separately, I discovered that life, with all its strange twists and turns can be beautiful, not what I thought at 18, yet a whole lot more.
It took 50 years to discover a way to steer through life and, lucky you, I’m passing on the secret.
Keep your head up, eyes on the horizon and remember meatloaf, if you must.