Wind Through My Hair, Bug Up the Nose

My history with motorcycles is really a love/hate relationship. Until this weekend, the only time I had ever been "on" a motorcycle, I wasn't even riding it, just sitting on one and burned the holy hell out of my leg, resulting in the two huge scars I now have on the inside of my right leg.

So let me rephrase...My history with motorcycles is really a hate/hate relationship...Until my dear beau stepped in. You see he has a motorcycle, a cute little 1980 Honda (that is all I know about it, and I'm sure he would appreciate me calling it 'cute'.) This made me nervous to no end...that is until I finally rode on it on Sunday.

And let me tell you, I get it! I get why so many people love to ride motorcycles. You feel free (and much cooler than those squares in their cars) :-) I say this, but I was quite a nervous wreck on our first ride (and I still won't let him go above 40 mph).

So, last night (after a long day of me feeling on the verge of tears and a nervous breakdown), we took the ol' girl out on McDowell Creek Road, twisting around the curves, heading down dirt roads and curling up into the Flint Hills to see a view of Manhattan that few get to see. And it worked...I calmed down, let the breeze whip my hair around and kept a smile firmly planted on my face (even when a bug flew up my nose).

So let me rephrase one last time...My history with motorcycles is a love/hate relationship (approximately 85% love to 15% hate).

And it gives me the chance to wrap my arms around a good lookin' hunk of man! Who could turn that down?!