As the red bull US GP at Laguna Seca loomed, along with the Robb Report MotorCycling Concours d’Elegance, I knew my husband, the senior editor of this magazine, would be there longer than I could detach myself from work. He casually suggested I meet him a few days later after riding up—solo. That certainly got my attention. I was to ride a motorcycle from Malibu to Monterey alone? That is something I had not yet attempted in my 46 years on this Earth!
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I do have experience, of course. I am fortunate enough to have the
opportunity to sample many of the test bikes that pass through our
garage. Living in one of Malibu’s storied canyons, I have some of the best
riding in the world, literally at the end of my driveway, and I take advantage
of it. (Click image to enlarge)So, I thought about it. I would drive up alone without a thought. Why shouldn’t I ride a motorcycle? That would be an adventure, and working in an office is anything but adventurous. I had my choice of bikes, and soon a Ducati ST3s ABS magically appeared in my garage.
My first ride on the ST3s left me a bit skeptical about my selection, but after a couple of long afternoon rides, the Ducati and I became close friends. As Friday awakened, I donned my Icon Tuscadero leather jacket, pink Mainframe helmet (it doesn’t do any good to be an adventurous girl if no one can tell) and riding pants, along with Spidi Ladies Strada gloves and Sidi Ladies Vertigo boots—there’s nothing like the proper equipment to build confidence—and I hit the start button and rode off into the unknown.
Making my way to San Luis Obispo was uneventful, as the ST3s settled into an 80 mph groove on the highway. It wasn’t until I left the 101 to head for Cabrillo Highway from Morro Bay to Carmel that I started to get butterflies in my stomach. I will admit that the ride along the coast was a bit stressful. But, it was the good kind of stress that enhances, rather than detracts, from one’s life. The rushes of adrenaline produced when passing slow-moving cars—so much power at the twist of a wrist—and the challenging tight corners along the way, constantly reminded me that I was doing something memorable.
Men, I think, have many more of these exhilarating experiences than women. The responsibilities of life get in our way and, somehow, men seem more capable of shrugging them off and taking calculated risks. There is certainly a fear factor involved in negotiating the cliffs south of Big Sur without the security blanket offered by four wheels, or even my husband riding a bike alongside me. I was often scared, but that’s a good thing.
It was beneficial for me to push myself. Too frequently, as women, we don’t test ourselves and live within our self-constructed comfort zone. This long-distance solo ride knocked down those walls. As I pushed myself to go faster and brake harder, my sharpened focus intensified the experience of what I saw, what I heard and how I felt.
Regardless of gender, we can all benefit from taking on a challenge without the typical support systems we cherish. I say this to everyone reading, but especially to my cycling sisters, examine your assumptions and then dismantle them. We are truly only limited by our own imagination of ourselves.