First of all, let me assure you that I am not a huge biker with beard, leather jacket and immense boots. Just imagine the typical biker you often see on the streets of your city with all these attributes. Have you imagined him already? Okay, the point it, he does not look like me at all. I just like speed and adrenaline rushing through my blood. The sense of riding a bike is similar to the one you experience when flying. Nothing else can give you such emotions. So, if you are adrenaline-addicted you have no choice other than learn to drive and buy your own motorcycle.
My first step was to find proper driving school in the Internet. I studied the reviews carefully, but as I was completely unacquainted with technical issues I could not decide which school was the best and followed my favorite method which is called – put-your-finger-on-the-random-line.
As I made all necessary calls the next question appeared – what to wear for my first driving class? In usual life I always wear skirts and dresses; it is hardly a pair of jeans in my wardrobe. So, I decided to choose the most convenient skirt I had.
Then, just imagine me entering the garage where the first class was due to take place in short skirt, shoes with modest medium-height heels and the decisive expression on my face. It is understandable that my instructor could not find the words at first to greet me.
First part of the lesson he explained me the technical issues concerning the motorcycle I will have to ride. By the way, the model was pretty good one – Suzuki SV650, in a good state. Then he offered me to make a circle around the garage on this extremely unstable vehicle. I was scared to death but saw no point in refusing as I have subscribed to it myself being in a sound state of mind or at least it seemed so to me at that moment. He assured me that nobody has ever fallen down during the lessons and I have nothing to be afraid of. But, on the other hand, he did not know me well. I began my ride and was surprised at how difficult it appeared to control the balance and sit straight on the bike. After a few moments of joy I started to feel exhausted, my concentration has weakened and within an instant I met the nearest wall and this short relationship was very close.
The first failure has disappointed me immensely. I hesitate whether to attend the second lesson or not. But the desire to ride on my own bike across the city was to strong and I decided to continue. This time I put my old sports suit on, started to increase my muscle strength and parted with the illusion that everything would be easy and smooth. And, you know, everything was not easy and smooth indeed. But with the course of time I improved my skills and now the instructor find no reasons to laugh at me.