Born to be Wild!?!

It is official. I am now a officially licensed to drive a motorcycle in the state of New York. Well, I guess I am licensed for all the states and Canada as well. But today was the day and it just proves that miracles never cease!

Here's the story . . .

I asked a friend, Howard, if I could use his bike for the driving part of the test test. He was going to be out of town so I asked another friend, Ron, to come with me during the test itself. (NY bike tests are done with the test giver sitting in a car that is driven by a driver who also has a motorcycle license. They give you instructions and they follow you to see how you do.) I had Ron meet me at Howard's at 9 this morning and the plan was to practice a bit and then go to the testing place in town.

Let me rewind.

I have always wanted my cycling license but never considered myself a biker. I am a piano playing, church kid who is more into music than sports or motorbikes. I have gotten many strange looks from my friends when I told them I wanted a bike who never thought I would be the type. After many years of thinking and dreaming, I walked in the Dept. of Motor Vehicles and asked to take a permit test. I passed and I was on my way.

I decided to sign up for a testing time immediately just so I would have a deadline and so I could get signed up for a test (I guess testing slots can fill up rather quickly). But I had a problem. I didn't (and still don't) own a bike to practice on. Finally, two weeks ago I asked yet another friend for some practice time on his wife's bike. We took a couple nights and rode around town together. I was shaky but had had some experience on dirt bikes as a kid so I wasn't a total novice. So, take it or leave it, I came to this week with a little practice time and the ability to do the required circles and figure 8s.

Fast forward to this morning.

Here is the scenario. The day was cold, windy and rainy off and on. I was told that the test giver sits in a warm car to watch you ride so if you are willing to ride in the rain he is willing to give the test. I met Ron at Howard's as planned and I practiced a few turns, starts and stops, etc. I was so frustrated because I couldn't get my circles or figure 8s. I practiced on the same size bike but it wasn't happening for me. After a while I got it . . . it was shaky but I got it. I told Ron we could go to the testing site. I didn't think my nerves would let me get it any better.

We arrived at the site and we waited for our turn. It finally came and I got on the bike. The test giver got in the car with Ron. I put my helmet on and went to start the bike . . . but it wouldn't start. It turned over but it would catch. I smelled gas and knew it was flooded. I then heard the car doors behind me and Ron said, "He is going to give the next test and said if it starts, leave it running and he will give me another try."

Well, I tried a few more times. Then Ron got on the bike and tried. And tried, and tried. Then it started to rain. I was at a loss as to what was going to happen. How was I going to take the test? When could I re-schedule? How were we going to get the bike back to Howard's?

Just as the last test was finishing we both realized that the kill switch was set to the "kill" position. We both felt dumb . . . Ron flipped the switch and "vroom", it started right up.

I said to Ron, "Don't tell him." And he, feeling as silly as I was said, "Don't worry . . . I won't say a word."

The test giver said to me "3 rights and then 2 lefts." It had stopped raining. I tried to focus on the maneuvering of the bike as calmly as I could. I took off . . . and lost count on how many turns I made. So as I went to make my 4th right I heard Ron honk his horn. I turned (not knowing what was happening at the time and thinking I had failed too badly to go on) only to see Ron was pointing to the left. I let a car go by, turned my left turn signal on and made my turn. And then the next.

Then I was told to make 2 right circles and 2 left circles. They were more like figure 8s (but the road was wider and I was much more comfortable with them . . . must have counted for something). Then I was told to return to the testing sight (1 right and a straight.) To my surprise and delight, he passed me. As I was signing the paperwork he looked up at the bike and said, "Ooh, you shouldn't have shut it off." I smirked to myself, kept writing and decided I wasn't going to tell him after all.

Why is it that most driving test givers are stern and seem like they don't have much of a sense of humor. Must be in the job description.

I asked myself as I drove the bike back to Howard's, "Am I born to be wild?"

I don't think I was . . . but I just might get the hang of it yet.

(My secret goal is to own a Harley Davidson by my 40th birthday. My wife thinks I am planning my mid-life crisis. I've got 3 more years to plan:).)

For what its worth.

Take it . . .