Yesterday we went out for what was my ninth ride. It seems so...low...a number. I'm feeling much, much more comfortable. Nick said he wanted to see how Lucia rode on the freeway, so we traded bikes at a gas station and pulled back out onto 5.
You know what I discovered? I actually REALLY LOVE my bike! Nick's bike is heavy and cumbersome, and I never feel like I'm really in control of it. I have a half-windshield on Lucia (the old owner had it that way and we didn't take it off) and Nick has nothing. The combination of wrestling with the bike itself and fighting the wind at 70+ mph was not one I care to repeat, I can tell you that. I never felt like I had a solid grip and a solid seat. Then he suggested I put my feet on the pegs, and...oh, gracious. That just was not a good ride. I gave him about 5 miles on the freeway, then I pulled off and said, "GIVE ME MY BIKE!" Back on Lucia, I was all settled and happy again. :)
It's nice to know that we actually found the right bike for me. She and I are definitely getting to know each other, and I'm feeling--a little bit--like I can handle her.
And I have to confess, now that the terror of being OUT of a car, in the MIDDLE of traffic, HURTLING through space at 70mph has abated a bit I am liking the idea that I'm a woman who rides. I want people to notice that I'm female when I take off my helmet. I want people to notice the helmet next to me when we stop to take a break. In my jacket you can't really tell I'm a woman, but I gotta confess...
I kinda want a pair of leather pants. ;)
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