Earlier in the summer, Kent sent out an e-mail inviting any interested parties to go riding Harleys with him at the end of the Chapman Family Reunion scheduled for Steamboat Springs, Colorado this July. He got a couple of nibbles and some definite bites. You are looking at the back side of the “definites” as they anxiously wait to sign away their lives in exchange for 24 hours of pure Harley bliss.
Yep. Just like kids in a candy shop—where to start?
Kent found a motorcycle like the one that Jim was renting.. A true blue Ultra Classic Electra Glide. Somehow, my husband with the least amount of experience of the three, ended up with the newest, biggest, most powerful model.
.
I was hoping that Jim was not freaking out like I was at the massive size of this motorcycle that even had an armchair and stereo in the back for my cruising pleasure as he received a brief tutorial on all the “need to know to stay alive” aspects of this machine.
Marcy and Rhonda got to wear the white “I’ve Ridden a Harley and Survived” shirts. My yellow shirt branded me as the “I’m Not Really Sure I Want to Do This But If I Die At Least It Will Be With My Husband” type.
The view to the west was a little disconcerting as the black clouds continued to build. It was probably a good thing that we decided at the last minute to take all the official Harley rain gear they offered us. They also had a place to leave our vehicle there over night as we drove back to the condos in Steamboat Springs.
The Rocky Mountains were beautiful, but it took awhile on the back of the motorcycle to get up the guts to get my camera out and start taking pictures.
I still think we looked like a bunch of German AWOL Prison Guards.
We became very acquainted with the back side of Marcy and Kent.
The Rockies had some gorgeous views as well as lovely Stop signs..
We started out with mostly sunny skies and could ride in just T-shirts, then the sun would go behind the clouds and we had to pull on our jackets, then the sun would come back out and off came the jackets, then the clouds would threaten rain and . . . Well, you get the picture. This little dance went on for quite awhile.
There were enough high-tech gadgets to make even my honey happy.
There was one aspect of sitting on the back of a motorcycle that I never did get used to: “Leaning into the curves.” It just does not feel natural to lean so far down as you round corners that you feel the road whizzing by next to your ears. Jim assured me over and over that motorcycles were literally DESIGNED to do this, but it made no difference. Every time I saw a sign showing a curve or turn in the road ahead, my stomach automatically clenched, I would hold my breath and instinctively start praying. Just for your information: there are a LOT of curves in the Rocky Mountains.
Marcy had acquired skills that were way over my head.. She could pivot in her armchair, stay seated AND get pictures of the actual front side of those of us behind her. And somehow, Kent could go around corners without leaning. I know – I scientifically judged the angle as I watched them very carefully from behind to see if they appeared to nearly hit the pavement on their sides like we did.
This is what we were driving in to which only added to my mounting “excitement.”
It was fun to stop occasionally, chat, check out the view, stretch the legs and take pictures of more than just backsides.
We had to come up with a plan that allowed Jim to get set and stabilized before I got on the back and before I got off as well. The time I forgot the plan was quite memorable. One man alone cannot a heavy Harley heft as it heads for the ground.
Some people look good in just about anything.
Some people just look like they belong in a helmet.
And the only word that comes to my mind when I see myself here is “Dweeb.”
I know he secretly hopes there are Harleys in heaven.
And I have a feeling they are going to want to do this again.
I should’ve paid attention to those with experience. Under NO circumstances should you EVER take off your helmet once you’ve been on the road.
These are the “those with experience” that I was talking about. Notice their circumspect appearance.
This nice lady loaned me her leather coat and chaps. She somehow sensed my hesitancy in this little expedition and wanted to make things as pleasant as possible. Thanks to her I was completely outfitted, even down to the sunglasses.
The bikes looked so good sitting there, that an Asian guy had his wife take his picture next to them while we were up on the rocks taking our own pictures.
As we climbed up the Rockies, the weather got a little more serious and we decided to start layering with all the gear they sent us before the clouds unloaded on us. This was no easy task as the underneath trousers had suspenders that were nearly impossible to adjust once you put the rest of the stuff on. Especially later if your hands were frozen and most especially if you needed the facilities five minutes ago.
There wasn’t much that fazed this guy—either that, or his smile was getting stuck.
I can absolutely guarantee you that at this point of the journey my smile was beyond frozen. If it hadn’t been for Rhonda’s wisdom and mercy in bringing all her ski gear to share, we would have been victims of hypothermia and frostbite at the very minimum. It was pelting sleet and ice in a frozen wind, and we couldn’t feel any body part that was exposed to the elements, let alone see what was ahead of us because our glasses would fog up. The road was under construction and was a gravelly muddy mess that slanted down to a deep ditch to our right. These are NOT optimum driving conditions. We had to travel VERY slowly because construction was STILL going on in spite of the weather and traffic was barely moving when it wasn’t stopped for 20 minutes at a time to let the oncoming lane get through. Do you know what that means when you are trying to keep a very heavy Harley upright?
Poor Rhonda. It’s hard to converse when your tongue is frozen in this position.
One nice thing about these bikes. They had handle grips that were heated and boy did they come in handy as we crossed this section so high in the Rockies. It’s always convenient when the driver’s hands can still steer even though the rest of the body may be frozen stiff..
I don’t remember where we stopped for dinner after we came down off the mountain, but I do remember that it took about 15 minutes to get out of all of our gear. I wasn’t about to take off my helmet again, but my compassionate and loyal little sister Marcy, PROMISED me she wouldn’t laugh.
It was bad enough that she broke her promise the split second she saw my new and intensified “Helmet Head Hair-Do,”
But when she couldn’t stop???
We finished the drive home to Steamboat Springs through the dark under the stars and a full moon, which to be honest, was very beautiful and could’ve been quite romantic had we not nearly plowed down a dead deer lying in the road while going 60 miles an hour. My capable husband dodged it quite cleanly, but it left me straining my eyes for more unexpected surprises in the dark and not feeling very relaxed..
The guys had to return the bikes back to Loveland by 1:00 p.m. the next day, so they opted to take a different road back that was much faster and not quite so scenic.
I was full up on the beauty of the Rockies and quite content to let Marci take my place on the way back.
Kendi was feeling adventurous as well.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow.” Pretty sweet for me. Pretty sorrowful for Jim.
Actually, lest I leave the wrong impression somehow – it really was quite an adventure, and I would do it again having learned some valuable lessons and having earned my own white “I Survived A Harley Ride” T-Shirt.
