I used to love her but now I don’t

Only a biker knows...

Have you ever wondered why a dog sticks its head outside a window when the car is moving? I am not a fan of dogs but whenever I see a dog sticking its head out, it looks extremely happy.   The wind blowing its ears back and tongue wagging out, and a near smile if you look close enough, for the dog, a trip in a car looks like pure ecstasy.  Could it be that when a dog sticks its head out of the window, it must feel like heaven on earth?  I can imagine that not all human beings enjoy this phenomenon, but there is a certain breed of humans that get why dogs do this, and these humans are called bikers, yep, you read it right, motorbikers.

 

Taken from my 2003 scrap book

I have always wanted to ride a bike, from a tender age I have always fantasised about riding into the horizon on a silver maroon Harley Davidson.  I did not know any other type of bike so a Harley was all I ever dreamt of.  I figured that, that was the pinnacle of life’s adventure, to be able to allow the wind to carry you into nothingness.  In 2003 I got a chance to travel to Germany and on one of my host’s stay, I managed to get me a ride around the block on as a passenger on a silver motorbike, I cannot for the life of me remember what that bike was called or what it looked like, but I remember the feeling like it was yesterday, wind for wind.  I became so obsessed with the idea of riding that I believed that riding carried my fate.  While I thought that was the highlight of my year, I later in the year attended a biker’s church and I believed that was what heaven looked like. I was home and I did not want to leave, even the haystack was shaped into a bike. 

Taken from my 2003 scrapbook

 I played around on some bikes before the service began and I saw a yellow Harley Davidson, and I fell in love with it instantly.  I asked one of the church folks if I could get a ride on one of the bikes and they offered to give me a ride and #Boom, the yellow Harley was theirs, the only problem was that they did not have an extra helmet, they left the duty of getting an extra helmet to me.  

Taken from my 2003 scrapbook

Taken from my 2003 scrapbook

 I went around asking if someone could offer me a helmet for a ride and then an amazing man came to the rescue. I will never forget him, his name was Manfred.  He told me that his wife had gear and I could use that, but even better, he could give me a ride himself. I was elated.  I geared up and we went outside for the ride and voila, I could not believe my eyes.  Everything that I had fantasised of was right before me.  It was silver maroon in colour; tears started welling up in my eyes.  My tears turned into little rain drops.  Manfred got me all geared up and signaled us to go on the journey that would change my life forever.

He started the engine and the sound was sweet melodies to my ears, he pulled off and all my sorrows and woes disappeared in the wind, I could not see where we were going, it was indeed the horizon, rain pricking me like needles I did not feel the pain, for the joy felt made any pain bow down.  The moment was amazing, I was lost in translation.  Whatever else happened after that in that year is but a faint memory (why am I getting all poetic and stuff?)

BlackEagle

In 2005 I met an amazing friend who was soon to be my boyfriend at the end of 2006.  We had a common thread to us, we both loved adventure and I remember that we both had a dream, and it was to own our own motorbikes.  In 2008 one of my best friends bought a super bike, he named it fire.  Fire was blazing hot and I instantly switched my love for a cruiser to super bikes, the adrenalin and fulfillment that came with owning the wind was out of this world.  My boyfriend at that time also bought a super bike and named it Black Eagle after my pseudonym ‘EagleRose’ (I had named his car white eagle).  Our worlds would never be the same again.  Speed was our new culture and when one is in control like that, you literally feel like you own the world, and boy did we own the streets.  When I was riding with him, speed was but a myth, time stood still and waited for us to pass on by before resuming.  It was amazing.  

The 24^th of February 2009 became a bitter sweet day for me, it was my boyfriend’s birthday and the day my best friend was involved in a fatal bike accident.  It was one of the worst moments of my life.  I struggled to grieve for my best friend because I had never lost a friend before.  My best friend and I had a squabble months before his accident  and on his birthday 29 January 2009, I asked if we could please let bygones fly away, and he responded “Life is for the living, let us not waste this life”, little did I know that a few days later he would depart from this beloved earth.  

In 2010, I broke up with my boyfriend and I became an independent rider, a rider who could define what she loved and wanted out of this sports. I owned a Honda CBR600RRA named Gripen, Gripen broke sound barriers and was so fast, she defined me.  

A time came, I attended many biker funerals and I could not lie to myself anymore and justify why biker deaths on the road were so high. I could not make excuses anymore and riding on the road was like navigating yourself through a jungle, a concrete jungle it was. Being witness to many accidents, it was clear that even if you were a skilled and safe rider, you were taking a risk because of the cars around you. Fear overtook me and I took my love for biking on track.  I loved track and everything it represented.  The freedom to accelerate with no worry over a taxi driver showing up from nowhere, a freedom to lean as low as you want, a freedom to take the unspoken risks.   

After I left my job in 2011, I spent a lot of time enjoying the track, during the Nov/Dec period; I got to meet AJ Venter, an Isle of Man racer who practiced at the Red Star Raceway every day.  He took a liking to me and offered to ride with me every so often.  I remember once he put me up as his pillion to show me a few things. Ahh man, the experience was priceless that I did not even focus on the lesson he was showing me.  For a moment, I was on the Isle of Man.  I upgraded my racing suit and my exhaust because I was ready for this world, I joined the RSR club and obtained my license from MSA, this was my future, but a little obstacle presented itself,  because of the economic status I had landed myself in, my budget became a bit too tight to continue with track racing.  Track racing can become a tad too expensive and for the period I was about to embark in, I needed to lay low for a while.  I continued riding here and there on the road but it was not fun, the road riding culture was not my thing.  

On the morning of 24 February 2013, I woke up in a bad mood; I had completely forgotten that it was my late best friend’s death anniversary and my ex-boyfriend’s birthday.  I never forget this day.  I went to church and bowled my eyes out.  I was sad on that day and I did not know why.  On my way from church, I came across a bike accident and I inquired who it was, only to discover that it was my ex-boyfriend.  He met his untimely death on his 28^th birthday.  Words cannot express the grief I felt in that moment and moments that came afterwards.  I had not seen him since we broke up, I did not and still do not understand why I had to find him.  A few days after, I went to the accident scene and I nearly bumped a biker from behind.  The biker moved quickly and the sound from the engine made me sick to my stomach.  When you are a biker, the sound is like music to one’s ears, but every time I heard that music, it felt like torture, I hated it; I hated the sight of any bike.  This beautiful machine had taken away two of the most amazing people I had known.  People may have their own theories about death, but say whatever; I do not believe that the deaths of my best friend and ex were part of a divine plan.  The LORD gives and he does not take away a gift.  I cannot accept that it’s God who caused the deaths.  I believe that these gentlemen sped and at that moment, the speeding had consequences, we all know of the consequences, it is just that when someone dies, we try to justify the speeding.  I am in no way insinuating anything, but that truth makes it easier to accept what has happened. 

Today, I still hear the bikes roaring, it doesn’t unfortunately, entice within me, awesome feelings like it used to.  I still feel sad and sick to my stomach.  Riding is in my blood and I don’t think that one can truly give up biking, for now I am still grieving, but I will definitely return on the road, only this time, I will be riding my dream bike.  My silver maroon Harley Davidson, for a superbike, I used to lover her, but now I don’t.