how to sucessfully assimilate into motorcycle culture

image courtesy of tim gosnell photography

my now husband (he's that cutie up there) and i had our first date on a motorcycle. i had only met jake once, and was all kinds of nervous. jake drove all the way down from arlington, where he was living at the time, to my parent's house in lynchburg to pick me up. he took me to dinner at chick-fil-a (a mutual favorite establishment) and then for a ride to the peaks of otter (the same place he later asked me to marry him!)

i stressed and worried for days over what i should wear on my first motorcycle excursion (i clearly didn't have any leather chaps or heavy boots on hand and thought it might be just a bit pretentious/desperate to make a trip to harley-davidson). i settled on a pair of cropped jeans, a tank top, and my gray toms; not exactly the best riding gear, but sufficient. after jake picked me up, i felt like i should have had some type of "passenger training" before we took off, but he pretty much put on my helmet, snapped the strap, and said, "just make sure you lean into the bike going around bends."

"um.. wait.. what? that's it??" i panicked to myself. "what am i supposed to do with my hands? what about my feet? can i move? am i going to fly off this thing?!?"

but, it was too late for hesitations. off we went. i eventually decided that i would most likely make it out alive despite my lack of training, and henceforth declared it safe to relax and enjoy myself. we had a great time together, and jake's passion for motorcycles was simply contagious!

and thus my love for all things "moto" bloomed with a fervor.

i soon got my license, all kinds of intense riding gear that makes me look TOTALLY legit, and to top it off: a cruiser to call my very own!

only kidding.

since my initiation into moto culture (i frequently use this abbreviation in my mind), i've been on the back of jake's bike quite a few times, but have resisted totally surrendering myself to the strict clothing requirements and sacrificial hair decisions riding a motorcycle entails. during the winter months, i have no problem wearing a warm jacket, jeans, and closed-toed shoes (i usually wear my running shoes which i realize is incredibly uncouth)--but refuse to accept the twenty-pound, line-backer shoulder pads, too-big-for-me jacket that jake insists i wear.

during the warmer months, i push the boundaries of appropriate motorcycle attire with even more gusto, but generally am met with stricter reprimanding. jake will ask what i'm going to wear, i'll say shorts, and he'll say no. i'll wear toms when he'd rather me wear something sturdier. flip flops are out of the question. so on and so forth.

yesterday, as we were preparing to head out on a ride with 2nd thief (a motorcycle ministry that jake's dad founded with chapters in numerous states--yes, i have some pretty cool in-laws! check out the website: www.2ndthief.org), i decided i would boldy don my white cut-off shorts, black flip flops, and black 2nd thief shirt (i think all the black was my heartfelt attempt to be a little more "moto friendly," as i always associate this color with motorcycle folk). jake would just have to deal with it. it was too flipping hot outside to be messing with safety requirements!

jake, wearing his motorcycle boots, jeans, and colors (that, my friends, is the name of the vest bikers wear which associated them with a particular group--you're welcome for the definition!) gave me a sad and confused look that basically meant, "i give up, you crazy woman." and so i loudly flip-flopped out the door, content with my small victory.

we set off for the gas station where we would we be meeting the rest of the riders. ten minutes into our ride, tailpipe hot as hades beneath my right foot, i realized the incredible stupidity off my clothing decision. in the name of fashion, if that's what you can call what i was wearing, i was compromising my own health and comfort and SAFETY (hello, dummy!). i dreaded the inevitable ridicule (out of love, of course!) i would receive from the rest of the 2nd thief riders, who would surely be dressed in more appropriate garb and look incredibly prepared for the day's journey.

sure enough, within five minutes of our arrival, ten people (all completely decked out in the appropriate attire) gave me a look with the intensity i thought only my mother was capable of. you know the one, that terribly convicting "are you really going to wear that?" look that mothers are famous for.

even though they are the most wonderful people, i know my new motorcycle savvy family HAD to be disappointed in what i was trying to wear! their new daughter-in-law apparently could not get the picture after all!! when would she ever assimilate?!? (they are way too nice to say these things, but i know it's what they were thinking, and who can blame them?!)

i looked ridiculous.

well, my friends and my dear new family, worry no longer. after thirty minutes on 495 in afternoon traffic headed straight into DC riding VERY fast in a column of bikes, i will NEVER make a motorcycle fashion faux-pas again (there was definitely some "calming" yoga-breathing happening on multiple occasions). the next time i ride, i will do my utmost to amaze and impress you with my ability to dress as a bonafide and safety-conscious rider, instead of a teenager on the way to an amusement park. thank you for your patience, and for accepting me despite my innate flaws and resistance to the motorcycle culture. assimilation complete!

(the photo below is obviously a non-example
of appropriate motorcycle attire,
but it IS one of my favorite wedding shots!)
:)

image courtesy of tim gosnell photography

note: i must add to this silly post something that is much more important than my lack of proper riding attire: the point of our ride! yesterday afternoon, along with the other "thieves" of the "second" variety, i had the honor of serving food to our nation's wounded warriors (aka heroes) at walter reed medical center in dc. below is a picture of the flier posted at the center to advertise the event and a group shot of all the riders who attended this outreach.

images courtesy of 2nd thief

what a humble reminder that freedom isn't free.
thank you to all who have served and are serving!