Born to Ride

It's really too bad that I don't have a photo to go with this post.

Today, I went to visit my dad. Before I went to his house, I took a little drive down a side road - a little drive down memory lane.

My dad lives in the country. There are lots of fields, pastures, barns, trailers, farm houses, horses, cows, dead opossums, back roads, more fields, hills, woods, and more barns.

The little side road that I took runs by my dad's house, and after a few turns, you come to the road where 2 of my aunt's homes are. This road has several houses and farms on it, but they are far apart from each other. It is not a heavily traveled road, and it is rock - as in, not paved.

On this road, I learned that I was born to ride!

When I was in middle school, my dad bought me a small motorcycle. Some of my very, very best memories are of riding this motorcycle.

I was only allowed to ride on the rock road. I would ride several miles in one direction and then back to my dad's house and then I'd turn around and do it all over again.

As soon as I would arrive at my dad's house for the weekend, I would get on the motorcycle and ride. I also did not have a helmet!!! Repeat - I did not wear a helmet and no one seemed to have a problem with it...... Oh, how I loved the wind blowing in my hair. I loved the freedom and the scenery and the independence. I can't remember what I thought about all that time I spent on the bike. Sometimes I sang out loud. I'm not a good singer, but it can be fun to belt out a song when no one else can hear you.

Sometimes, the rides were exciting. A few times, I came upon a black snake in the road. There was no time to go around it so I would have to ride over it, but I distinctly remember holding my legs straight out at the sides in case it decided to strike at me.

There was also a man who owned a german shepherd, and this dog liked to chase cars including little girls on motorcycles. I'm not really sure how I never got mauled or how I was able to outrun the dog. I always said a little prayer and hoped it wouldn't be out when I went by.

I never wrecked, and I never got tired of riding. I wish I could remember when or why I eventually "out grew" it. And I really wish I had a picture of me and my motorcycle.

My mom told me the following story, but I need to give the back story.
My mom and step dad attended a small church, and I had never been able to make friends there. I didn't go to school with any of the kids my age - I was the only one who attended a city school which made me different. And I was very quiet and shy which the other kids took as "snobby." One day, one of the girls asked my mom why I was not at church that day. My mom said, "She's at her dad's house this weekend. She's probably riding her motorcycle."
After that, the other kids started talking to me! :)