There’s a new prompt in town. It’s being run by Maggie, at From Cave Walls and by Lauren at LSS Attitude of Gratitude. The two will alternate hosting and the idea of the prompt is for them to give us a topic and for us to write a post in which we share our own memories or experiences about the given topic. This week, Maggie chose the topic of “learning to drive.”
I hate to break the rules on the first edition of this prompt, but I’m going to bend them just a bit. My post is not about learning to drive. Instead, it’s about my embarrassing experience when I attempted to get my motorcycle license.
I got my driver’s license when I was 16, but I was approaching 30 when I decided to buy my first motorcycle. I guess getting ready to turn 30 gave me pause, and indulging in a motorcycle was an attempt to stay in Neverland. I didn’t want to grow up.
So, I bought myself a Kawasaki KZ400, exactly like the one pictured below.
Anyway, in order to legally ride a motorcycle, you had to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles, take a written test, and then pass a motorcycle riding test. I aced the written part, but I didn’t do so well on the road test.
One part of the road test is maneuvering the cycle around a bunch of traffic cones. The cones were lined up in a slalom-like manner on a small track that had a curb on one side and a stone wall on the other. I was about two-thirds of the way through that course, when I went wide around one of the cones. That’s when the cycle’s fairing (windscreen and covering around the handlebars) clipped the stone wall, causing me to lose control of the steering.
The bike and I hit the ground. A bunch of traffic safety instructors and cops ran over to where the motorcycle and I were sprawled out on the ground. “Are you okay? Are you injured?”
“I’m fine,” I responded, “except for my wounded pride.” Then I looked up at the test monitor who who was helping me to my feet. “Does this mean I failed the road test?” Based upon his expression, I knew that was a dumb question.
Long story short, I returned to the DMV a week later, retook the road test, and made it through without further incident.
All that said, this motorcycle road test debacle was one of the most mortifying experiences of my life.