My First 10,000 Miles

Count 'em! 10!

Harley riders have a saying: Ten thousand dollars and ten thousand miles don't make you a biker.

But ... how about 55-hundred dollars and ten thousand miles?

Yep, I did it. I have officially driven my motorcycle more than 10,000 miles.

I know, I called that picture of me a couple of weeks ago "first 10,000 miles," but I hadn't quite reached it till now. I had written down the mileage when I bought my used bike (only 3,524, despite two previous owners), and then I calculated and subtracted the number of miles my hubby rode it — bringing it home, riding to a couple of parking lots where I could practice before I got my permit and once when I experienced problems with the electrical, so he took it to work.

It took a while — more than a year — because although I ride to work fairly often — roughly 60 miles round trip — I haven't been able to take my touring buddy on any long rides this year as I'd hoped. And weather kept me driving my four-wheeler all last week. Finally, Sunday I went to the garage to check the odometer against my records. Looked like enough to me ...

I came back in and a hot flash distracted me the moment I got inside. Uh, oh. Was it ... 807 ... ? I opened up my log, fired up the calculator (shameful truth: I can't add and subtract without one), and totaled it out. Yes! I thought I'd reached my goal.

But I don't trust my own memory. So I put my shoes back on and went back to the garage, reminding me of another axiom: When will you have time to do it again if you don't have time to do it right the first time?

Sure enough, I'd transposed numbers. I redid the calculations.

Damn! TWO miles SHORT!

So I announced "I MUST ride. NOW!" I jumped on the bike and took rode to the grocery store to pick up bread and milk. I know. Such a cliché.

I didn't realize till I got that bike rolling just how much I missed it last week. What joy! What a feeling of freedom! I wish I could do this EVERY day.

And it when I got back, I had done it! Here's proof.

Pop the bubbly!