Back in November 2016 when I took the holiday-discount Motorcycle Safety Foundation course, I had ZERO intention of even getting a license.  When the instructors asked each of us why we were taking the course, I answered with what seemed like a perfectly sincere and honest answer for the only woman in the class. “I’m taking the course because I’m tired of being scared.” Wha!?!? What kind of on-the-spot BS is that? First of all, that is so NOT why I was there. Second of all, I’m still scared, and I hope I stay a little scared.. My motives shall remain a mystery to you, dear reader, but I think about that answer every now and then, and wish I wouldn’t have tried to be so damn profound.

Anyhoo, here is my motorcycle progression, minus an actual timeline. The quotes are real.

“I’m going to take the course, but I’m not going to get my license. No interest. Just want to see if I can pass.”

“I dropped the bike while stopped. Just fell over. There’s no way I’m going to pass.” (Passes.)

“I passed. But I’m still not getting a license.” (Gets license.)

“I’m only getting my license because it will look cool to have “M”class on it,  but I’m not going to get a motorcycle.” (Gets motorcycle.)

“I’m going to ride in a straight line forever.” (In tears… a complete meltdown because I was/am the most incapable human EVER.)

“I’m never leaving the Value Village parking lot.” Fact: the parking lot at Value Village on Moreland used to be home to a driver’s license office/test course. I honestly believed I would be perfectly happy riding around in a parking lot. I could tell folks, “Yeah, I ride,” and they wouldn’t have to know my DLS. (Exited parking lot.)

“I’m never going on Moreland.” (Drove down Moreland.)

“I’m never going to go over 30 mph.” (Not going to tell you WHAT I’ve done.)

“I’m never going to get on the freeway… on 400… on the connector… in the mountains… definitely not 285… get a bike bigger than a 500… ride alone… ” (Done. Done. Done. Done. Done.)

Welp… TODAY, I took my Ducati 696 to Birmingham for a test run… with a license, out of the Value Village parking lot, around corners, off Moreland, on freeways. I’m still scared, and at times downright terrified.

But here’s the best part: While sitting at Fast Food Restaurant, Guy sits down a few chairs away and says to me, “Who rides the Ducati?”

“Ummm… That would be me.”