The Sporster: New Paint

Charming and I sat down with a buddy of his who specializes in painting bikes. We talked about repainting it the cool blue it once was. I frowned and Charming asked me what exactly I wanted.

“Something pink.” I said.

“Oh Lord. Your bow is already pink, even your cute undies are pink!” Charming exclaimed.

I smiled, wanting to say even my next wedding dress is pink, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know I already had it. “No we aren’t talking solid pink.”

D seemed to relax a little, I figured he wouldn’t be to excited to keep a pink bike in his garage.

“I want something with my nick name on it though.” I said quietly drawing out a heart with a crown on it.

The painter nodded as he watched me do it, “it’s workable.”

“Maybe solid back with this logo, little faintly pink hearts hiding in the paint.” I mumbled as I kept drawing.

“Why the hearts?” The painter asked.

I smiled as I remembered the first time someone had called me by the name. My eyes met his, “because I’m the queen of hearts.”

He nodded, “I’ve got some ideas.”

The Sportster rebuild is almost complete. She’s running better then she did from the factory. She’s got new exhaust and intake. Her transmission was an easy fix, or so I’ve been told. We were so very lucky her engine wasn’t damaged in the wreck, it would have been a whole lot more work.

She’ll be going in for paint in a couple of weeks, I’m so very excited to get back on her! So excited I’ve got biker fever!

Here’s just a little taste of what’s to come…

American Biker... The Truth

They say don’t bite the hand that feeds you… But that hand no longer feeds me soooo….. CHOMP!

I stared at the TV blankly, not sure how to process the show I had just watched. I swirled my whiskey in my highball for a second and thought. I had my own experience with a club and it hadn’t been as wild. It had been wild, but compared to what I had just seen, it was like preschool.

I blinked still attempting to process.

D laughed, clicked the TV off and left the room. I still sat there swirling my whiskey and thinking. My heart wasn’t aching I was just thinking about the misrepresentations the show had just offered. I sighed, swigged my whiskey and stood up, “how to define a biker.” I mumbled.

I knew all to well that some people would see that show and instantly judge someone with a patch on their back. Which was fine by me, I’m no longer associated with a club. But what did was the image the show and that club are creating for the others who ride. People like me and Blue and D and even Charming. The image that we are all a bunch of uncivilized, butt scratching, drunk on our ass, drug using, hicks.

I’m not going to get on my pedestal here and preach about how not all clubs are a like. Not my place and I don’t really care. Nor am I going to ride my high horse and say I’m better then what and who started me, because I’m not. Our blood all runs the same and my beginnings start with a man associated to a club... But I do wish people would understand there is a difference. And just because you see a shiny bike and a leather jacket doesn’t mean we are all bad ass assholes… 

The show doesn’t show people who ride for genuine reasons. People like the guys who stood in the ICU hallway waiting for me to come back to life. People who stopped while D and I waited for the ambulance. People who roll an extra bike out of the garage just to rebuild what was lost in a wreck. People who call you up in the middle of the day just to say “hi”. The people who take time out of their lives to make yours better. Or even people who you’ve just met that take their time to teach you how to ride safely.

It doesn’t show what a true, blue blooded, honest American Biker is.

It’s a shame we are all going to be judge because of these shows. It’s a shame, a real shame.

The New Life: The Mechanic

So you are probably wondering where the pictures have been lately. Well Blogger and my computer are in a fued... so until that gets sorted out no pictures. I've got some of Deadwood, the horses, the wreck and a couple of the Sportster as the restoration work starts... hang in there eventually I'll get them posted. In the meantime I shall write...

“I understand you’ve had a bad couple of days.” Charming said as he stood next to me.

I nodded, “Yeah it’s been bad.”

He wrapped his arms around me, “Well is there anyway I can make it better?”

I shrugged as I took a breath of his cologne, “maybe.”

He laughed, “get your stuff.”

Later as we lay in bed watching a movie I couldn’t help but be happy. There was no heart ache, no need to rush into anything, just the sense that the moment was all I needed. “You okay?’ He asked.

“Yeah. Why?” I asked back.

“I just felt you go limp and I was worried.” He said quietly.

I smiled to myself, “I’m just happy.”

I looked up and he was smiling too, “I’m glad you are happy.” He brushed my bangs out of my face, and I felt as if that moment could last forever.

“Thanks for making things better.” I whispered.

“Anything for you babe.” He said softly.

I looked back at the T.V., “I can’t believe Charliy just let you come up.”

He laughed a little, “I had time saved up for a rainy day. The dealership is pretty awesome to work for, they understand.”

I sighed and thought about my Sportster parked in his uncle’s garage and how he’d promised me it would run better then ever. “How’s the sporty?”

He chuckled a little, “she’s got some gremlins.”

I nodded, “D wants to sell her, says its bad luck to keep her around. But I feel a bond with her now.”

“Yeah.” He said softly, “well she did pretty much save your life.”

I nodded, “she’s done more for me then you’ll ever know.”

 “It’s funny what inanimate things can do for a person, how they can take a life on of their own.” He said softly.

I thought about her, “She’s like my sister.”

“I’ll take good care of her.” He whispered and then kissed me on the forehead, "Everything is going to be okay."

I knew it would. I knew she’d come back to me running better then she ever had, with a new paint job and chrome, I had faith in his mechanical ablities. It was then I knew quitting riding wasn’t an option, it was also then I knew that the mechanic wasn’t just working on the Sporty, he was working on me too.

The New Life: To Perfect

The sound of the bike was unfamiliar as I lay in bed listening to it getting closer. I knew they could have been headed for a neighbor, but I doubted it, most bikes that turn onto D’s street are headed to his house. I sat up in bed and sighed, it was after nine, D had been up for about two hours, I figured he was getting anxious for me to get out of bed so we could do what we needed to for the day before he flew me home.

I stood up as the bike turned into the driveway. I didn’t recognize the rider until he stepped off the bike and took his helmet off, it was Charming. My heart leapt into my chest, “so much for a phone call.” I mumbled to Bella as I stumbled to get dressed.

“Hey Beck!” D hollered up the stairs.

“Yeah I’m coming.” I hollered back as I pulled my leathers on. It felt odd sliding them over the healing bruises and I wondered if I knew for sure what I was doing.

“I thought you were going to call.” I said as I walked down the stairs.

“I figured a bike ride would be better.” He said with a smile.

D stood next to him, “You wanna go?” he asked.

“Well I’m all dressed up.” I said with a laugh.

They both nodded, “well I’ll just let you two go. I need to go to the lumber yard.” D said staring at me. “Call me if you need me.”

I swung my leg over the back of the Victory and relaxed. “You don’t own a Harley, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He laughed, “I do own a Harley. I just like this bike best, don’t tell my boss that!”

I laughed and rested my hands on his side. I was comfortable and felt as if it was where I needed to be.

The bike rumbled to life and we were off. It felt perfect to be on the bike, my heart didn’t hurt, it was happy like it used to be. The Blue King used to help relax my knee, it took the cramps and pain out of it, the Victory did the same.

We stopped at the stop light and waited for it to turn, he turned his head and said to me, “Beck I want you to be mine.”

My heart fluttered in my chest as he said it, “That sounds good to me.”

He smiled, “good deal.”

A few miles down the road he reached back and ran his hand on my knee, the same way Bowman used to. I wondered if someone had told him or if it was just something he did. It was then I realized Sonny had to be meddling…

The New Life: Rebuilding

“So every biker has a reason why they started. Mine was because I grew up with them; spent the weekends at the motocross track, getting a bike to ride around was obvious.” Charming said as he smiled at me over dinner.

I shrugged, “Everyone asks me that question.”

He chuckled a little, “well honestly not a whole lot of women ride their own bikes.”

I nodded as I stared at him, “Honestly.” I paused thinking about how to word what I wanted to say, “Before the wreck I was attempting to keep hold of a piece of my past relationship.”

He nodded, seeming to understand without judgment. “So why not just give it up now?”

I sighed, “I wanted to. But I don’t want to stop because of fear.”

“Hmm.” He said than took a drink of his beer, “Well that’s a good reason to keep riding.”

“Have you ever been in an accident?” I asked.

He smiled and then rolled up his sleeve, “I’ve been in a couple.” He showed me his arm and the scars across it, “These are mostly from motocross, but last summer I laid my bike down on my way to Sturgis.”

I nodded, “How come you kept riding?”

He smiled again, “same reason you did. Fear isn’t a reason to stop.” We sat quietly for a little while, “I was surprised when you came in with D today. I didn’t think he knew any girls, let alone one as sweet and pretty as you.”

“Laying it on kinda thick aren’t we?” I asked sarcastically, but flattered.

He laughed, “Hey I have to make sure there will be another date.”

I smiled and picked up my water glass, “I’ll just have to wreck the bike again if there isn’t.”

He smiled, “It’d be a lot less painful to just answer the phone when I call you tomorrow morning.”

“Would it now?” I asked, knowing that maybe it wouldn’t be…

The Sportster: Life After the Wreck Part 1

Blue sat in the chair across from the bed. The rest of the room was empty, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or awake. He sat up in his chair as I woke up, “hey you” he said quietly.

“Hey.” I whispered.

He stood up and moved over to the bed, “how you feeling?”

“With my fingers.” It was the smart ass comment my granddad always used.

He chuckled, “I’m so glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

“How’s the bike?” I asked.

He sighed, “She probably saved your life.”

I laughed thinking about how she had done it more then once, thinking about the ride to Hill City. “I owe her one.”

“Maybe more then one.” He said. “You scared us.”

I sighed and thought to myself for a little bit. I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit I didn’t want to ride anymore, I knew he was more apt to understand then D would. “I want to stop riding.” I whispered as my watery eyes met his blue ones. It hurt me to admit it.

He sighed and took my hand in his, “remember why you started riding? If you stop you are going to lose it all.”

It was then the tears started, “I’ve lost it all anyways.”

I sobbed as I heard myself admit it for the first time. Admitting I’d lost my best friend and the only man I’d ever loved ripped my heart out of my chest, it was a pain that the pain meds wouldn’t stop.

“That’s the first step.” Blue said as he wrapped his arms around me, “Just get it all out. We will figure riding out later.”

The doctor came in after a bit, told me I was still in shock and changed my IV fluids. I fell asleep in Blue’s arms. I slept like I’d never slept before, without dreams, away from the pain, just honest sleeping…

The Sportster: Jinxed

I laid there on the hot concrete and closed my eyes, shutting the sunshine out and letting the pain take over. There was no fighting it; it was the worst pain I had ever felt. I could hear the sound of the paint stripping off the bike as it slid down the street. I was in an odd place of peace, not scared of being hurt, no longer afraid of the what if. Because the what if had just happened.

He was next to me before I realized it. I could hear more and more panic in his voice as the seconds slipped by. By the time I could hear the sirens the pain had taken me over. “It’s okay. Your going to be fine baby.” I could hear him say, but it wasn't D's voice, it was one I had almost forgotten.

I wanted to see him, to know he was really there. But I couldn't I was stuck in the blackness. Then suddenly I was some place else, back home wrapped up in the silky sheets and his strong arms. I no longer felt the pain of anything, I only felt happiness and love. I thought to myself that if this was the end at least it was ending with a feeling that always made me feel better, no matter how bad the situation was.

If Heaven was some place with him, I was okay with the end coming. But it wasn't the end. I got a second chance and in it all I realized I've been living my life wrong.

In hindsight I never should have asked D to pick me up, I should have never been in Omaha; I shouldn’t have been on the bike. My attitude and state of mind were not at a place where I should have been riding, and I shouldn’t have been in traffic period. But it happened and there is no changing what is done.

I knew all along it was going to happen. I could sense it in my bones. The impending doom hung over every ride and every second I spent with the bike. Guess we will see what happens now, if I’ll ever be able to have the courage to swing myself back on a bike.

The New Life: The Show I Won't be Watching...

We sat talking about our trip to KC when the advertisement turned on. I paused and stared at the TV. I immediately thought about Bowman and Hometown and The Club.

When the ad was over I sighed and went over to the bar and poured myself a Coke and Jameson, feeling the urge for a strong drink. I poured half a glass of whiskey and then topped it off with Coke.

“They’ll make TV about anything these days.” D said as he stared at the now muted TV. “You going to watch?” He asked over his shoulder

I took a hard swallow of my Coke and Jameson as I walked back to the couch, “Honestly watching it is just going to make me miss Bowman. So no.”

“It’s a different club and you already miss him.” D said, pointing out the obvious.

I sunk back down onto the couch, “I won’t be watching. I don’t need to watch some stupid show.”

“I’ll DVR it just in case.” He said searching for the shows name.

I sighed, “It’s a stupid show.”

He nodded.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” I mumbled then took another hard swallow.

“Uh huh.” He said fixed on the TV.

I rolled my eyes and thought about Bowman. Watching that show would make me miss him, just like American choppers, Top shot, and Sons of Anarchy already do. Except this is a show about a club…

I won’t be watching…

New Bike Time?

Found the bike I am in love with...

.... Now I just have to figure out the financing, WITHOUT... D's help...

I may have to rob the "Harley Hog"

My birthday gift from Momma last year... yes she thinks shes clever...

The Sportster: Attempting Homework

It’s been close to four years since the last time I’ve had homework. But this homework was one I was pretty happy to do, well when I started it anyway. 50 questions about the rider handbook, easy, the answers are right in front of me!

Yeah but I couldn’t get the handbook to print off… sigh so there I sat squinting to read the damn things. Sure would be nice if I actually had the course material in my hand. Hmm oh well.

Did you know:  “Ordinary sunglasses aren’t enough protection for a motorcyclist. They can fly off or shatter causing damage to a rider’s eyes.” Sigh sounds like a ploy for Harley to sell me their brand name rider glasses…

Did you know: “Helmets only reduce the risk of a brain injury by 67%”  Guess it’s better then 50%

Did you know: “That a bikes owner manual should be your primary source of information about the bike.”  … really?!?!

Hmm looks like I couldn’t take it too seriously. Guess when I’m in a better mood I’ll have to do it...

Honestly I'm actually kind of nervous about the classes....

Odometer: 327

The Sportster: By the End of Summer

So I have a couple of goals set for this summer, some are horse related but most are related to the Sportster. When D first purchased the bike it had a total of about 50 miles on it. Yeah yeah I know, shut up… I’m actually pretty proud that it’s rolled over on 300 and all but 75 of those miles are miles I’VE put on it.

My goal for September is to have the odometer at 5,500 miles. It may not seem like a lot to you, but come on I’m just learning how to ride… Give me a break.

My second goal is to purchase my own bike. Yeah the Sportster is mine, but it really isn’t mine, my name isn’t on the title. So after Sturgis I’m buying my OWN bike, one with MY name on the title!

Odometer: 300

The Sportster: The Last Day in Deadwood- The Ride

Once we got past our issues it turned out to be a pretty great weekend. We left the bikes at a friend of D’s in Sturgis the night before. There wasn’t room in the hotel parking lot for the trailer and D wasn’t comfortable parking the bikes out in the open.

So the next day we got up early, picked the bikes up and rode up to Hill City. It was the last day of our mini vacation and I wanted to get sometime on the Sportster before it went back to Omaha. The total ride would be just over 100 miles. I was nervous about the distance.

What if I got tired and couldn’t ride any further? What if I wrecked the bike in the hills in between? What happened if a big old logging truck came up behind me? What if the weather suddenly turned bad? They were all questions I rambled off in the truck on the way to Sturgis, playing with my helmet in my lap.

“It’ll be fine. If you get tired Teddy’s wife will ride your bike back and you can get on with Jay.” D said as he stared blankly out the windshield.

I sighed, not overly happy with the answers I was getting. There would be no truck to ride back in if it rained, I’d freeze my ass off in my leathers instead. If the bike was wrecked it would probably take 30 minutes or more for someone to show up. There would be some truck traffic, but not a lot. I should feel safe because Jay and D would be right there with me the entire time.
Staring out the windshield of the truck I remembered the feeling that something was going to happen to me and the Sportster. I silently prayed it wouldn’t start.

That prayer was one of the unanswered ones, the Sportster fired right up, no fuss about it. I’m sure I was shaking as I stood with it between my legs. Sometimes I have a balancing issue when first starting out; normally I can get it sorted out as soon as the bike starts moving, which I did. We were out of the driveway before I could even second guess myself.

D and Teddy rode side by side in the front, then Jay and me, and right behind us Garza on his big Honda that should probably be in a scrap yard.

I settled into the ride and attempted to kill all the nervousness in my body. This was my first “trip” on the bike. I felt a rush of pride as I remembered where I had started, on the back of Bowman’s bike, my hands tensely on his shoulders. I glanced down to my relaxed hands on the grips; I knew if he could see me he’d be proud.

I looked over at Jay and for a second I saw Bowman and the big Blue King next to me.

I felt a small pang in my heart as I realized I missed the Blue King, but it wasn’t pain I felt that time when I thought about Bowman. It was happiness and thankfulness. Thankful for him giving me the "Biker Bug", as my Momma calls it. Thankful that he left the option out of me getting on the Blue King and his patience while I nervously settled into riding.  But mostly thankful for every second he had been in my life.

I looked ahead and watched the guys in front of me, realizing that if it hadn’t been for D sheltering me, for great friends, I wouldn’t have anything. It was then I realized that no matter what, I do have someone who loves me, if everything falls apart D will be right there to catch me. I realized then as D looked over his shoulder at the stop light and smiled at me, that Sonny wasn’t talking about a soul mate, she was talking about a man who loved me more then I could ever imagine, a man who had no biological ties to me treating me as if I was his own flesh and blood, his own daughter. “Love develops in the oddest places.” I knew he’d realized what it meant, I figured he’d brought me back to Deadwood in hopes I would figure it out too.

“Hey You!” Jay hollered.

I turned my head as we waited for the lights to turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

I nodded, “Just fine.” It was then I felt the emotion rush over me. I realized that maybe all I need to know is that Bowman is happy with his life now and that he maybe treasures those few months we were us as much as I do. Maybe all I need to think is that he is proud I'm riding, just maybe. And sometimes all I need is the reassuring feel of his hand on my knee when I am on the bike and scared.

I realized then that sometimes people can’t love you the way you want them to, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love you the best they know how.
..
....
......

We rolled forward, through Sturgis and Deadwood, up through the hills and across the Pectola Reservoir, and finally into Hill City. The Sportster cruised nicely along, giving me no fuss. The rush of closure and happiness brought me to tears a couple of times. I was thankful for my big sunglasses, because I knew the guys wouldn’t be able to see me cry.

When a big logging truck came rushing up on us I felt his hand on my knee and could almost hear him smile and say "you are going to be just fine. Don't be scared."

In the end I survived my first trip on my own bike, I mustered a 100 miles even though there are no words to explain how sore I was the next day, and along the way I found the final piece I had been searching for.

Will I ever stop loving Bowman?    Probably not.

Will I let that stop me from loving someone else?  No

Am I hopeful that at some point our paths will join back up?   Of course, I still feel as if he’s the other half of my soul.

Am I in a rush for it to happen?   Not anymore…

No right now I am going to teach myself how to love again, I’m going to enjoy being friends with him, and attempt to fix the friendship. I’m going to learn how to become a better and more confident rider, and even a better person as a whole. But most of all I am going to find the passion for life I’ve been missing since things fell apart in October.

All because of that first ride last summer and those tense hands on black leather.
All because of a love that taught me who I was meant to be…. 
All because I want to be a “Biker Bitch” (also my Momma’s saying).

But mostly because of The Sportster and the unanswered prayer…

The Sportster: Deadwood Weekend con't

It ended right there in Deadwood. I didn’t have the energy to go out to dinner or even to go out and party, which is what Deadwood, is all about. Instead I lay on the cold tile floor and realized how fucked up everything really was. I realized that I was hanging on to something that would probably never be again. I realized that I could learn to love someone else, even if it wasn’t instant, even if it wasn’t as passionately, I could love again.

Eventually I crawled into bed and turned on the T.V. I have become accustom to the room, I know that occasionally there is a bump, it’s more then likely the old mistress that used to live in the room. I know that outside you can hear the sound of motorcycles riding up and down Main Street. Sometimes if you are real quiet you can hear the party in the streets. I listened to Deadwood and let it soothe me.

Around two in the morning I heard the key slide into the lock on the door. I turned my head and watched as Jay walked through the door. “You still up?” He asked. It was dark in the room; the TV was glowing as a rerun of an old sitcom played.

“Yeah I’m still up.” I said quietly.

He closed the door behind him, walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. “Can we talk?” His voice was quiet; I knew he was sober, but exhausted. I figured he’d been pretty upset to.

“Yeah.” I said sitting up in bed, reaching over to turn the lamp on.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I know you are having a hard time letting go. I just really thought if I showed you how much I love you, you’d get over it.” He said softly, staring at his hands in his lap.

“I haven’t been very fair to you. I am really sorry about what happened. Jay I’m trying to love you. But it’s been hard for me to learn to make space for someone else.” I paused reaching over to touch him. “I’m ready to let go, I want to be with someone who’s going to love me. Who’s going to be with me through everything. I don’t know who that is at this point, but I really want to find out if it’s you.”

He turned on the bed so his eyes met mine, “I love you with everything I have. But Beck if you aren’t willing to let go of the past you won’t be able to love me.”

I nodded agreeing, “give me another chance.”

He smiled as he reached up to touch my cheek, “You are still on your first chance.”

It was that second when I realized what was happening; when I realized that maybe I’m starting to fall for him.

The Sportster: Deadwood Weekend con't

I’d been crying for awhile when I hard the door open. I listened hoping it wasn’t Jay; I didn’t want him right now. D stepped into view and I sighed. The tears had run out, I was leaning against the bath tub trying to decide if I wanted to talk with Jay at all about it.

“This is kind of a scene from some movie where they are trying to get the drug addict to go into rehab. Except you aren’t a drug addict.” He pushed the toilet seat down and sat on it. “What’s up Baby Girl?”

I shook my head and stared out the bathroom door, “I don’t know.” The voice didn’t seem to be mine. It was full of anger, full of spite, full of hurt and other things.

“Hum.” He folded his hands in his lap and stared at me. “Want to talk about what happened?’

“Not really.” I sighed.

“Okay.” D said shutting his mouth and sitting quietly. He knew me; he knew if he left it, eventually I’d tell him.

We sat quietly for about an hour before I finally broke. “I just can’t let go. I’ve done really well. But I don’t love Jay.”

He sucked his breath in, “sometimes Love isn’t immediate. Sometimes you have to learn to love someone.”

I sat listening to him. I wasn’t in the mood for advice. I didn’t want to talk, I really didn’t want to do anything, all I wanted to do was sit right where I was for the rest of eternity.

“You are probably going to have to let Bowman go.” D said softly. The way you say things to a spoiled toddler when they aren’t about to get their way, the way you say it in an attempt to avoid a melt down and temper tantrum.

“I know.” I said in a quiet whisper, “I had. But after his accident, it all came back.”

D sat quietly for a moment. I knew he didn’t have a pearl of wisdom to give me. He was thinking hard, I knew he was hoping Sonny would give him the right answer. Finally he sighed, “Oh babe.”

I drew my knees up to my chest and leaned my head into them, the tears were back. There wasn’t anything that was going to fix my problem. There wasn’t any fixing things with Jay, I knew that to. So I cried.

To Be Continued…

The Sportster: Deadwood Weekend

It wasn’t long after we arrive in Deadwood when I felt a fight coming on. It’s interesting how that feeling settles into my joints and bones and I can sense it looming. Jay was especially quiet in the truck; he had been since we left Hometown.  D had blabbered on about random things, trying to ease the tension in the truck, and I was left wondering why Jay’s attitude was so stormy. I could have sworn I saw storm clouds looming over his head, lightning bolts striking occasionally.

There wasn’t much of a reason for him to be pissy. We hadn’t run into anyone I knew at the gas station. Bowman hadn’t been anywhere in sight. His attitude was from something he held inside of him.

I stepped out of the truck at the hotel and sighed. The cool Blackhills air hit me and relaxed my nerves. I grabbed my luggage and attempted to avoid setting off Jay, “here let me get it.” He said as I pulled it out of the truck. His tone was cold; I felt it pierced every muscle as it hit me.

D walked into the hotel leaving the two of us at the truck. He said it before I could ask what was wrong, “Why do you still have that picture in your room?”

My head spun trying to remember what picture he was talking about. Then it hit me, tucked away in my scrapbook from last year was a couple of pictures of me and Bowman on his bike. “Those are in my scrapbook. Why were you in it?” I asked.

“I asked you a question first.” He said.

“They are in my book because that’s one of my first motorcycle rides.” I said as I took my luggage from him and tried to avoid the fight.

For some reason I always end up in the same hotel room in Deadwood. I asked D if he had requested it, he shook his head no and looked at me like I was crazy. I dropped my bag on the floor and walked into the bathroom, making sure to close the door behind me. I'm familiar enough with the room to know that if you don't latch it, it has a tendency to swing open.

I could hear Jay wrestling his luggage; I knew the argument wasn’t over yet.  Staring into the mirror I attempted to steel my nerves.

“You can’t avoid it the whole weekend!” Jay said through the door. “If you are still in love with him I need to know.”

It pissed me off, his remarks. We’d been through the conversation about Bowman before. I was attempting to move on, to put him in the past and work on building the future with Jay. I swung the door open and stared at him, “I don’t feel like having this conversation with you right now. If you are going to be an ass all weekend you can stay over in D’s room.”

He blinked at me, “I guess that’s my answer right there.” He stood up, grabbed his luggage, and left the room.

My knees buckled under me and I sunk to the cold tile floor and cried, cried hard, the hardest I’ve cried since the Breakup. I missed him…

To Be Continued . . .

The Sportster: Deadwood

D and Jay showed up in the driveway Sunday morning at seven. I heard Grandma welcome them before I realized who it was. I was still in bed, attempting to get over my hangover. “Is Beck here?” D asked.

“Yeah she’s back in her room.” Grandma said.

I heard someone open the gate and sighed, wishing they’d just let me sleep. There was a knock on the door, “come in.” I said quietly.

The room flooded with light as the door opened, “Hey you.” Jay said as he closed the door behind him.

I could immediately smell his cologne, “How come you are here?”

“Well I’m happy to see you too.” He said as he sat down on the bed next to me.

“I’m sorry Honey, I had a lot to drink last night.” I whispered.

He smiled as he brushed my bangs off of my face, “It’s okay. D and I thought we’d steal you away.”

I laughed, “Steal me away huh. Where are we going?”

He thought about it for a moment, “How about Deadwood?”

I lay in bed quietly for awhile weighing my options. I could stay and deal with my family or I could disappear for a few days and let them fight without me, “sold.”

He laughed, “We brought the bikes. You wanna ride up or haul them up?”

I laughed as I sat up and said in a mocking tone, “Real bikers don’t haul there bikes. Did you bring The Sportster?”

He nodded his head, “But you don’t want to ride that far do you?”

I shook my head, “No but I was hoping I could do some riding.”

“Why don’t we take the truck up then, that way we have all the bikes up there.” He said, ignoring my comment from earlier.

“Yeah that’s fine.” I reached over and turned the lamp on. My head immediately pounded. “Just give me some time to pack.”

“You don’t need the whole room.” He said with a laugh.

“Smart ass.” I said as I put my contacts in.

He smiled and kissed me, “missed you.”

I kissed him back, “I missed you too.”

To Be Continued…

The Sportster: First Impressions

“So how come you are getting into riding?” Harper asked as the pizza arrived at the table.

I accumulated my answer briefly, “My ex boyfriend introduced me to riding. Six blocks into my first ride I knew I needed my own bike.”

They took the answer without pushing further, I was thankful. I didn’t want to get into the long version of the story.

Blue, who’d been quiet most of the dinner, finally spoke, “D says you’ve got some fear.”

I nodded as they slid a slice of pizza onto my plate, “I’m scared of traffic.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He said sternly.

I paused, staring at my food, “Oh you mean the fear of laying my bike down.”

He nodded. He looked like the stereotypical biker. He had a long gray beard that was wind whipped so bad it was almost over his shoulder. His face looked like it had been made of leather; you could see where he wore his sunglasses. He wore a black vest with a short sleeve shit under it, I imagined he still had his chaps on to but I couldn’t tell. He rolled his sleeve up to reveal his whole arm.

It was horrible, it looked like somewhere in the past his bare skin had met some highway, and the highway had won. “I wrecked my bike about nine years ago, laid it down on the interstate.” He paused, “I didn’t let it stop me.”

Jay’s dad stared at me, “will you let the fear stop you?”

I knew I was making my first impression on all of them. I knew they doubted that I wanted to really ride; I knew they figured it had been D’s idea. My eyes met his, “I won’t let fear stop me from riding. I won’t let anything stop me.” I said sternly.

He seemed to size me up again, “hum.”

Jay looked over to me, “why did you stop showing?”

I was taken aback, I hadn’t expected it. “I stopped showing for a lot of reasons.”

“Was fear one of them?” He asked quickly.

I thought about it for a minute, there wasn’t any point in lying. He’d seen how bad I had been injured, he’d been the one who’d picked me up out of the arena dirt; he knew it was fear that had settled into me. “Not originally, but yes I’ve developed a fear.”

In my head I figured I had lost some points with the group. “There may come a time when you get hurt as badly as Blue did. Would that stop you?” Dad asked.

My eyes met Blue’s eyes. I could picture what had happened to him, I thought about it for a moment. Was riding something I’d let fear stop me from? My eyes met Dad’s again, “I won’t let anything stop me from riding.”

He nodded, “okay then.”

I made a mental note to thank D for the interrogation I was going through. The table fell silent.

The Sportster: The Ride

The stop light at the middle of town concerned me. I slowed down and stopped next to Jay. There was a big delivery truck behind us, I attempted to not let it worry me, but he kept getting closer and closer. Jay looked over at me, “you doing okay?”

My expression must have scared him as we made eye contact. “Stick with me Beck!” He yelled.

I nodded, knowing I didn’t really have any option, I was at his will. The light turned green and we were off again. Luckily the truck wasn’t behind us at the next stop light. I was beginning to get tired after about 15 miles, I knew we’d have 15 more to get back home. When Jay stopped at the stop sign I knew I needed to tell him. He looked over at me, “Let’s head back.” He said before I could say anything.

I smiled, D would have continued to push me. I nodded and we turned around. The highway was open and quiet, it enabled us to go at a speed that I was comfortable with. The aggressive driving D had warned me of, didn’t appear.

We rolled into the pizza place. There were six bikes already parked there, D’s included. “What the hell.” I mumbled.

Jay and I parked our bikes with the mess, “It just the rest of the guys.”

I looked through the bikes and recognized Toby and Tennessees bikes. I sighed, “great.” There were three I had never seen before. My stomach knotted.

“I thought D didn’t ride with a club.”I said to Jay as I swung off my bike.

“We aren’t really a club. Just a group of friends that ride together.” He said as he took his helmet off.

I pulled my helmet off and unzipped my jacket. “Oh I see. So why are they here?”

“We meet every Monday afternoon when it turns into riding weather.” He said.

I paused thinking about why we had turned around; it wasn’t because he knew I was tired, it was because it was dinner time.

“Don’t worry they won’t bite.” He said with a laugh.

I rolled my eyes, “whatever.”

He mimicked me, “whatever.”

I slapped him on the shoulder, “at least you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

He smiled at me and wrapped his arm around me, “come on.”

We walked into the place, I spotted the group immediately. I recognized Jay’s dad and mom; she smiled as she saw us. “You know my mom and dad. This is Toby and Blue, Harper, and I think maybe you know Tennessee.”He said with a knowing smirk.

“I’ve met Toby to.” I said quietly as the man who resembled Toby Keith smiled at me.

“This is Beck everyone.” D said cutting in, “Come on guys have a seat.”

We sat down in the empty chairs across from Jay’s parents.

“How are you girl?” Shelly, his mother asked.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Well as good as I could be I guess! Are you still showing horses?” She asked.

I shook my head, “I’ve been out of the show ring for awhile now.”

“Oh that’s really too bad. You were really good.” She said as the waitress walked up to the table.

“What can I get you two?” She asked cutting in.

We ordered our drinks, and then it was time for Jay’s dad to lay the questions down. He’d always been brassy, he never sugar coated anything. “So I hear you want to be a rider huh?”

I flinched a little; I had forgotten how sharp he could be. Shelly slapped him on the shoulder, “play nice.”

Jay sighed, “She did great riding today.” D briefly smiled at the end of the table. I could feel the group as a whole tense though, unsure of how I’d handle the situation.

I didn’t need them to defend me, “I have every intention of becoming a rider. I’m not going to let anything stop me.”

He leaned back in his chair, “you are still the same girl.”

I sized him up, “No I have more of an attitude now.”

His face went stone solid, for a second I thought I had pissed him off. Then all of the sudden a wave of laughter hit him, “okay Beck!”

Jay relaxed in his chair, D’s fists unclenched at the end of the table, the rest of the guys eased to. It appeared to me that Jay’s dad was the “leader”. I knew the test at the DMV would get me my license, but the real test, as if I was going to be a real rider would come from Jay’s dad.

To Be Continued…

The Sportster: Fear

I have a nasty feeling, but it’s only when I get around the Sportster. It’s a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that consumes me. It starts at my core and radiates out through my muscles and into my bones. It sucks me in and keeps me there until I walk away from my bike. It doesn’t happen around other bikes. I’m okay when I window shop at the dealers, or even when I’m on a different bike, it’s only the Sportster.

It’s the same feeling you get when you know something bad is going to happen. It’s the feeling when you find out your ex-boyfriend has a new girl. The feeling when you hear you have cancer. The feeling when someone says they don’t love you anymore. It’s a nasty feeling that you only know about if you’ve felt it before.

The Sportster didn’t always have this feeling around it. It didn’t have it until I realized just how dangerous it would be if I were to lose control over it. The fear was amplified when the dumbasses laid it down on me. But it wasn’t exploding until this past weekend.

I have a learners permit, and I’ve had it for several weeks now. I’ve learned how to operate the bike, but I’ve never handled it on my own, in a non-confined space, i.e. traffic. The genius D decided that we needed to change that, that this weekend would be prime time for me to take it out into traffic. But not just traffic, fucking rush hour, Omaha traffic.

I made it a little over 2 miles before I had a panic attack. I had to pull over, in a Walmart parking lot and let Tennessee, whom I wouldn’t trust with a demolition derby car, take over my bike. I climbed onto D’s Road King, without realizing I was doing it and rode down to the Harley dealership. We were back home before I stopped crying. It was awful, you would have thought I had just got my heart broke, again!

When we got home I sunk down onto the overstuffed couch in the living room. I was still shaking from the nerves pulsating through my body.

“Maybe it was to soon.” D said as he handed me a beer, an attempt to soothe my nerves.

“Fucking a right! What the hell were you thinking?” I said ignoring the beer being shoved in my face. Bella jumped onto the couch and laid her head onto my lap. I rubbed her ears.

“You are going to have to do it at some point.” He said as he sat down across from me.

“I told you I won’t ride alone in Omaha, and you fucking take me right to Omaha. God damn it!”

“Beck, you’ve got to get over your fear.” He said in a quiet voice.

“I’ll get over it but you can’t force me to do it!” I hollered, Bella jumped up and growled at D. “Just let me get comfortable.” I stood up and walked upstairs to my bedroom, Bella trotting behind me. I shut the door behind us, no not shut, slammed it behind us.

I crawled under the covers and closed my eyes, Bella laid down next to me, her silver head on the other pillow. I wasn’t crying any longer, the fear had subsided. I attempted to think about some of the better motorcycle rides I’ve been on. They only brought pain, I realized how disappointed Bowman would have been in me for bawling like a big baby.

Eventually I fell asleep. It was dark when I woke up. I stumbled downstairs, remembering the Sportster had been left in the driveway. I walked into the garage and turned the lights on. D had rolled it in and put it back in its place. I stared at it, that nasty feeling filling me. “You are going to hurt me aren’t you?” I whispered to it. I couldn’t hear it at first, but as I stared at it all I could hear was a very subtle yes. I growled and walked back into the house.

I won’t let fear keep me from riding. I enjoy being on motorcycles, I enjoy the feeling. But I’m going to have to find some way to keep the fear out of me, how I’m not sure yet…

The Sportster: Dumbasses + Motorcycle = Hurt

One of my greatest fears, above dying alone, is laying my bike down. I can picture all sorts of nasty scenarios, none of them end well. I even have nightmares about it. But my biggest mistake was admitting I had this fear to D. He’s now determined to get me over it, and it started today with out first “safety” lesson. I use the term safety very, very, loosely!

“We are going to lay it down real slow. It won’t be running and you won’t be moving. We are going to tip it over so you can learn how to get out from under it, how to tip it over; all that stuff.” He said as we stood in his driveway with a couple of our friends.

“D this doesn’t sound like a good idea.” I said as I tried to avoid it.

“Ah you are going to be just fine, we are all here.” Toby said.

“You are going to have to do it at some point.” Tennessee chimed in.

I shook my head, “no. Fuck no.”

After 30 minutes of arguing with D, Toby, and Tennessee I finally relented. Suddenly as the bike was laying on me I remembered what he had told me when he gave me the lessons, “I’m not a very good teacher.” I agreed with him.

Of course the dumbass, no I should say dumbasses, didn’t keep me from getting hurt. Once the bike got to a certain point the boys couldn’t keep gravity from it smacking me hard into the driveway. I have a developing bruise on my leg and shoulder, my hand has a couple of cuts from the concrete, and I don’t feel any better about tipping the damn bike over! As a matter of fact I think my fear is worse then it was before.

I did learn something from this all, don’t let dumbasses handle your motorcycle!