Simply Lou: The Reluctant Biker Babe

article and illustration by Lou Davenport | original drawing, prismacolor on paper

I haven’t written anything about “Mister” in awhile, and I sure don’t want to leave out a good “Mister Story.” I’m sure he probably wishes I would, but that’s about all he left me with, so I might as well tell another true story or two or three. They make me laugh…now…and I hope they entertain you as well. I still have quite a few more I’ll write about in the future.

If you haven’t ridden on the back of a motorcycle by the time you are fifty years old, you might just want to think real hard about taking that step. I first met “Mister”when I was 50, and he was very proud of a new bike he had gotten. He politely asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. Wanting to make a good impression, I reluctantly put on a helmet and crawled on the back. My first impression was, “This is weird.” And that was quickly followed, when we were along side a car with, “I don’t think I like this!” Nothing but air between me and a 2 ton automobile made me anxious!

I’ve never been much of a daredevil, but ol’ “Mister” sure was. He had been riding a motorcycle since he was probably old enough to crawl up on one and his feet touch the ground. He had ridden motocross and had all kinds of trophies. And, I have to say he never scared me with his driving. I just prefer riding on four wheels.

Short rides weren’t too bad. It was usually hot or cold. The cold was the worst. Rain freaked me out. It stings! And before you know it, you are soaked and freezing to death. Not fun at all. I also didn’t have all the cold weather leather protective clothes (not that I really wanted them, they’re extra heavy!) So, I just did the best with what I had which certainly wasn’t classic “biker babe” attire! I’m certainly not the “all leathered out” type, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to wear one of those leather halter tops!
Now, riding on the back of one of these smaller bikes (this wasn’t one of those big touring bikes) is not in any way comfortable. The driver has a nice roomy place to sit with a couple of pegs to put their feet. In other words, they can move around a bit. The rider has about a 5 inch slightly padded board to sit on. There “ain’t no way” anybody’s butt is going to be comfortable riding on that small, hard board for any length of time. The rider has one and only ONE peg for their feet. So, just imagine being cramped into one seated position with really no way to move yourself around. Your knees lock, your back breaks, your neck and shoulders hurt and your poor ol’ butt just aches. As I said, “It ain’t fun!” And, an occasional bug might fly right into your face, and you’ll think you’ve been shot! You reach up to see if there’s any blood squirting out! It hurts, too!

So, when the subject of going on a longer ride came up, I knew I wasn’t riding for hours on that thing. My body and mind refused. The compromise was he’d haul that bike in the back on his truck, and we could ride to some destination. That sounded okay, until I saw some of the destinations. Big, tall mountains. In several different states. Tall mountains. Big, tall mountains with snow on top and really deep, deep canyons. And, it may be 90 degrees at the bottom but, it’s about 40 or less degrees up top. The misery I endured, and he was just as happy” as a pig in the sunshine.”

We rode “The Dragon’s Tail,” a famous biker route not once, but TWICE! I rode up a mountain that had no guard rails on my right side with my eyes closed. I rode down that “Dragon’s Tail” with my eyes squeezed shut. (well, ok, I peeped once or twice) The whole thing is only 11 miles long, but it seemed like 50 miles to me. There’s nothing but curves and switchbacks (318 of them), and you are going down a very sharp incline. All you hear are those “fools” that ride those little bitty “buzzy” bikes that fly down that mountain. I just cringed every time I heard one. Hey! I still cringe when I hear one around here! It gives me flashbacks!
Once we were riding somewhere around Eureka Springs, Arkansas, and there was an ominous, black cloud looming in front of us. I got uneasy and kept suggesting we find somewhere to pull over and sit out the storm that obviously was coming. Well, NOOOO! What self respecting biker would ever do that? But, I wasn’t driving that thing and on we rode and when the rain hit, it hit like a wall of hard, icy water that was blinding! There must have been a guardian angel watching over us because suddenly there was what looked like a bus stop right on the side of the road. But even though we had shelter, I was still cold and getting whinier by the minute. (Hey! I’m a girl! We whine!)

When the rain finally stopped, we ventured on into Eureka Springs like a couple of drowned rats, me being the more drowned. Remember, I didn’t have any “official rain gear of riders.” He had a windshield and a big visor on his helmet. I had a little visor on a little helmet. There were bikers everywhere in Eureka Springs, a popular destination I found out. They all looked wet and ratty, too, so we weren’t the only “nuts” out in the storm. I think it was about this time that it dawned on me these bikers LIKE to ride in the rain. I have no idea why. It must be a macho, biker thing, but no thank you. Again, I am a girl.

After these long rides, I felt like I could actually lay on a rock, and it would have feel good. I hurt all over. A chiropractor might have been nice or one of those deep massages. Even one of those girls who walk on your back. I just do not think I was meant to be a biker babe. The things we do for love. I think I was “temporarily insane” at the time. I had to have been. I’m scared to drive across a narrow bridge! And I really hate pain.

The worst place of all I had to ride was on some big six lane highway in Austin, Texas. Oh, that’s way too close for comfort, and the 18-wheelers almost blow you off the road! I was so scared I almost started “talkin’ in tongues!” I was petrified! Once again, I just squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to cry or scream from the fear. I sometimes wish I’d had a flask of something “strong” to sip from.

I finally had to “gracefully decline” riding the bike with “Mister.” It was just too painful and scary for me. Call me a “chicken,” call me a “scaredy cat,” or call me a “weinie,” I don’t care. I am not too proud to say being a biker babe was not for me. Not one bit. The pain, oh, the pain! And I didn’t even mention “helmet hair.” Horrid!

It didn’t matter what place we went, “Mister” found the local “Harley” dealership. I would usually go find some obscure, out of the way place to just sit and “daydream” and rest my tired old body. I tried to “entertain” myself.

I was so very tempted to just barely kick the first bike in the row of a long line of different models to see if they really would go down like dominoes. Just for the sake of science, of course!

Those big old machines are heavy, too. I was too scared to even attempt to climb up on one. I was afraid it would fall, and there I’d be, squashed like a bug or at the least with a broken leg. But “Mister” had a fine time, and that was okay with me. At least I got to rest all my body parts, while he browsed around. He usually got a tee shirt, so I expect by now, he has quite a collection from all the places he has been. I guess that is commendable in it’s own strange way. He loves that Harley.

I did get to see a lot of pretty wonderful scenery in my “biker babe” days. And, when the weather was nice, it was okay, too. It was just too uncomfortable. As my Mama would say “she was built for comfort,” and so am I. Give me a car with four metal walls around me, air conditioning when it’s hot, a good heater when it’s cold, a top to keep the rain out, and damn! Give me some music!

In closing, I can’t say I was “Born to be Wild” on a bike. And, as Chris Stapleton sang, (to paraphrase) “wouldn’t had a sore butt, shoulder, knee, neck and back…. if it hadn’t been for love.” To all you hardcore riders, “Ride on, Ride on.”

Smoking Update: 50 days smoke free!
Born to Be Wild by Steppenwolf
If it Hadn’t Been for Love by Chris Stapleton
Ride On by AD/DC