I ride a Harley. Yup! Little ol’ me at 5’3” and 125 pounds, I ride a 700-pound beautiful shiny red Harley-Davidson motorcycle. I will never be called “a bad-ass biker chick”—in fact, it’s a bit of a joke with my friends who are longtime riders. But I don’t have to be. I simply enjoy riding.
I understand motorcycles are not for everyone. I am not a thrill-seeker and I am not a speed junkie. If you had asked me 10 years ago if I ever thought I’d be riding down Route 6 on a motorcycle—even as a passenger—I would have laughed.
Put the stereotypical TV “biker” image out of your mind for a moment. I spend time with nurses, doctors, real-estate agents, lawyers, salesmen, teachers and pet groomers who ride motorcycles. It has also been my honor to ride with members of the military and first responders. I will admit that most people who ride have had a romance with these machines their entire lives… or at least a crush. I only fell into the world of Harley-Davidson few years ago by chance. The Cape dealership had an opening for a marketing director and it seemed like an easy transition. I come from a rock ‘n’ roll background. What pairs better with rock ‘n’ roll than Harley-Davidson motorcycles?
In order to work for Harley-Davidson it is strongly suggested that you at the very least know HOW to ride. I did not. The fact that I was a local one-time demolition derby champion may have helped with opening conversations, but didn’t really do much for proving my abilities as a rider. The guys at the dealership were very patient with me. They taught me the different models and even helped me find a “starter” bike (not a Harley). I began to make friends and identified people by the bikes they rode. I can even recognize my friends’ bikes by the individual sound of engines and pipes when they pull up or drive by. (I will still drop what I am doing and look around like Pavlov’s dog at the sound of a few specific bikes.)
At the first chance, I took the basic motorcycle training class with Training Wheels and got my license. In short order I traded up from my little starter bike to a Harley-Davidson with Ember Red Sunglow paint… LOVE. By the way, you don’t simply ‘buy’ a Harley. You enter a relationship with your Harley. Riding is a release. It’s exhilarating. It’s relaxing. It can be a social ride with friends, or a solo ride to clear your head at the end of a long day. The rest of the world melts away when you ride. Just like spending time with someone you love.
There is definitely a lifestyle that goes with riding motorcycles—and it has NOTHING to do with Sons of Anarchy. There is a comradery among riders that has no comparison. Strangers will stop to help each other or strike up a casual conversation at restaurants or rest stops. That comradery spills over into everyday life. It’s a culture. Riders savor life. The outstretched road. A picture perfect sunset with the roar and snarl of an engine. The first smells of spring or crisp leaves in the fall. Freedom. You see, feel, smell, hear everything around you. It’s like meditation. You focus on the road, the feel of the engine, the energy and balance.
Sitting here now, with snow still melting into the salty parking lot, listening to the bustle of phones and general office buzz, I wish I could be riding. Even a bad day can pull a U-turn with the rev of an engine and the twist of the throttle. No cell phones. No drama. No clutter. Just life.
About Cat Wilson
