>> VROOOOOM<<

You might find the phrase slip from your lips, but in all honesty, when was the last time you literally had to “hang on for dear life?” For me, the need came just two days ago when I went on my first Harley motorcycle ride. After my host brother brought home a put-put scooter several years ago, my host dad got interested in bikes but decided he needed one with maximum power. He soon bought his genuine American Harley Davidson. My host dad is thrilled with the power of the bike and kept telling me that the engine has twice the power of my host sister’s Toyota compact.

Before we left we had to look the part. For my host dad that was blue jeans and a matching Harley jeans jacket, sunglasses, and leather gloves that said “ranch hand” on them. All I needed was a terrified look on my face and I was good to go.

In all honesty the ride was a lot of fun at first. I was initially a bit scared because like most people, I had a bad preconception of how scary and dangerous it is to ride motor bikes, but it really isn’t bad as long as someone capable is behind the handlebars. Aside from being very loud, you immediately notice the rumbling under your butt. I sat behind my host dad, not in a side car or anything, and found it a bit hard to be propped up straight as you keep getting pushed back by the force.

I was fine as we were cruising down the main streets close to my house. You feel the bike’s kick and it’s almost like you’re riding on a roller coaster. At a stop light my host dad asked me how I was doing. I told him I was fine. This translated into, “take the bike onto the freeway and reenact the freeway chase from The Matrix Reloaded.” At this point I was a bit frightened. Riding in a straight line doesn’t scare me; darting between cars and squeezing by on the shoulder at speeds topping 65 mph makes me squeal like a school girl.

We got off the freeway and stopped at Lake Biwa (the largest lake in Japan) for some quick photos and much needed butt rejuvenation. Then, it was back to the streets. VROOOOM.

Due to super narrow streets and crummy parking situations, many people ride bikes and scooters rather than cars in Kyoto. It does wonders for one’s ego to have your fellow bikers nod at you as they pass by on the streets. I’d nod back with a fearless biker snarl that said I was born on this hog and seen my fair share of troubles. In actuality, I was clutching the seat and mentally preparing my will as we accelerated around the winding mountain roads, working our way higher and higher to the observation point. It turned out that houses blocked most of the observation points at the top of Mt. Hiei, so we turned around and came back home.

All in all, my first motor bike ride was a really neat experience. However, when I got back in the house I found that my butt had gone numb; I must have been more drained than I thought, because I would nap for several hours later that afternoon. Hey, even bikers gotta rest.

Born to live, live to ride!!!

B.E.W.