Sunday, March 3, 2013

Don't Call Me A Sissy

I haven't actually been on the back of the hubster's motorcycle in quite a while.  A year or more?  I don't even remember exactly.  Our free time and the weather and my various injuries never lined up right until today.

The sun was shining, it wasn't too cold, and we had free time.  Or time we were more than willing to stop doing the laundry and the car up keep and take an hour for ourselves.

I felt strange getting all wrapped up in my warm clothes, the long underwear, the jeans, two pairs of socks and shirts, a thick sweatshirt and finally the leather jacket.  I felt kind of a like a sausage in a casing!  But all that was going to be okay once we got on the road, all the discomfort of moment would be forgotten.

I put on my helmet, picked up my gloves and headed out to the bike quietly purring its immense satisfaction in our spur of the moment day trip....

When I got my first look at it I stopped short.  I'm ashamed to admit this, but I yelled at my husband.

"You Took Off My Sissy Bar?"

The sissy bar is an addition to the bike that I insisted on.  Six years ago, when my husband took me out for my first ride, I clung to him like a barnacle.  I was positive I was falling off.  In his desire for his hobby to be my hobby, he asked if I thought having a back rest, a sissy bar if you will, would help.  I thought it would and shortly after that a very nice sissy bar made its debut on the motorcycle and I never again felt like I was falling off.

The lack of it now proved that I haven't really been very observant, because he took it off a while back, to fix it up.  It was looking pretty worn and the stuffing was peeking through.  But due to lack of free time and all that, it still wasn't fixed.  My husband ran into his shop for it and some tools, willing to put it back on.  It would take five minutes tops.

"No," I said.  "Let's go." Five minutes more ran the risk of me second guessing my decision to leave the clothes unfolded and the bed unmade.

We had a lovely ride, it really was a fantastic day to be on the bike.  But at the end of the ride, I got off and said I really do need the sissy bar.  It doesn't make me a sissy, it just makes me a person who needs to feel that I'm not about to slide off as we accelerate up a hill!


  1. In my sixty years, plus, I have never ridden on a motorcycle. I don't view anyone who rides a motorcycle as a sissy. I'm glad you got a chance to put the laundry aside, and go for a ride.

  2. My dad used to have a motorcycle and I remember riding on the back of it on the freeways of southern California - no sissy bar and no helmet. We were crazy back then, I guess

  3. We are waiting for some sunshine so we can go out in Mr BC MGTF with the top down.

  4. I haven't been on the back of motorcycle since making a two-hour road trip behind my dad when I was eleven--it was pouring rain. So cold and wet and miserable... He got rid of the motorcycle shortly after that because we were moving and transporting it wasn't really practical.

    For the record, I'm with you one hundred percent on the sissy bar thing. I think it should be renamed the "common sense bar," because it's extremely logical to not want to feel you're falling off going up a hill. ;)