The Prequel

I was 5 years old when I felt like I had wings. I was 5 when I felt like I had grown wings and could fly.  "It's just like riding a roller coaster or sliding on the back of a dragon. Just hang on," my grandfather told me with his left hand on my knee while rolling up and down our driveway (roughly 350 yards) in first.
After one full lap in our driveway, I told him that I had to have a motorcycle one day. 

I went to my first motorcycle-camping trip when I was 7 and could actually reach the pegs. Every Thursday night my backpack was packed and strapped to the bike. Friday afternoon, I would run off the bus and grab my helmet. Riding on the back of my grandfather's bike and always leaning over his left shoulder, I saw and studied everything that I possibly could. He and his friends would race through the mountain roads in (roughly) a 250 mile radius of Chattanooga, TN; I would giggle and scream to go faster. Nutter Butters, Fig Newtons, and ice cream was considered a balanced meal. I was in charge of using the wheelbarrow to collect a bunch of firewood and to make sure all of the empty cans/bottles went into trash bag. I went to motorcycle rallies in the area and was almost always the only child there. Some of my fondest childhood memories involve my grandfather and motorcycles.

Sitting in the lodge of Two Wheels Only Resort in Suches, GA, watching cartoons on the tv, I turned to my grandfather and his friends, "When I'm 25, I want one of my own and we will be riding buddies. AND we can go to ALASKA!!!" **My mother wasn't the most thrilled about my enthusiasm or obsession with motorcycles, I told her that I wouldn't drive until I was 18 and no motorcycle until I was 25.** Anyways, I guess everyone just kinda dismissed it because I was so young. As I got older, school and friends took more of my time, my grandfather was traveling farther - the scheduling didn't quite work out for what each of us were doing. It never changed my love for two wheels or riding with my grandfather.

2016, I reminded my grandfather about that promise I made to my grandfather. He took me camping with an old friend and a new friend. 3 months later, we were packing his sidecar and camping trailer to go on a 3 week trip to Nova Scotia and back. I continued to talk with him about motorcycles. I had fallen in love with the idea of having a sidecar, too. So, naturally being the greatest man alive, he started to work on his winter project: my motorcycle and sidecar. He couldn't find a motorcycle that he approved of and decided to not sell his old motorcycle but to refit it for a sidecar; after all, he knew it like the back of his hand! He started to lay out maps and try to make a rough plan for the summer trip. He made the mistake of asking me what I wanted to do before/after the rally.
"Opa, I told you. I'll get my own when I'm 25. We will be riding and camping buddies. AND. We can go to Alaska!" **It was an incredibly bold move but, it ended up being the greatest decision!**


2017, the first weekend of April, I took my MSF class, it was basically my birthday present. A few days later, we went for my first ride; an hour of playing with the friction zone, starting, stopping, and playing with the turn signals and the horn (without looking) - all in the local Sheriff's Dept.'s parking lot. They got a kick out of it. After that we went riding 1-2 hours for 2-3 times a week. I practiced on his 2015 RT/sidecar for about 12-15 hours because, he can change the settings: hard, rain. Then, we switched my sidecar rig, with just over 95,000 miles. And started from the bottom again, practicing with the friction zone, turn signals, horn-all in the same parking lot, hey still had a good time waving at and talking with us. 9 days after my motorcycle class, I went on a 200 mile round trip. I was sandwiched between my grandfather and, H.B., one of his best riding friends (who has known me since I was 5 and begging to be on the bike). Now, sidenote, I always get a little anxious when people are behind me, watching me. I was beaming and floating when he told my grandfather that he was impressed, " I was worried that she would lose you in the curves on the Ocoee or struggle to keep up with YOU, she took it like a pro!" We continued little rides around the region and errand running trips around town. we went to the Alabeemer Chicken Rally in May. My grandfather, H.B. and his son, S.M., another one of my grandfather's friends, and I had a small cluster at the park. I ended up winning the youngest female rider and a raffle, prizes were: a golden rooster trophy, an LED flashlight, and a BMW canvas baseball cap.

All to prepare for the GRAND(-father/-daughter) Adventures Sidecar trip to Alaska.











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