Tripp

I guess it’s time to come out.  I’ve been riding motorcycles since 1980. I’ve had many different bikes in that time.  Never...have I ever…named a single one of them, including the one I’m currently riding.

I learned on and initially rode for awhile a 1972 Triumph Bonneville that belonged to my second husband.  Kick start, shift on right side, brake on left.  I didn’t ride it a lot because it was fraught with electrical problems, typical of that model and era.  It seemed I tended to spend more time on the side of the road than riding.  I didn’t ride by myself much because I needed the husband along to get me back on the road.  I got stranded once by myself, and had to walk somewhere to find a phone to call home.  Soon, I got my own first bike, a 1981 750 Yamaha Virago.  Blessed freedom!  No more electrical problems.  It took a bit to remember not to shift the brake, but I got it.  I rode that bike until 1989 when I was in a bad car accident and sold it to a friend as I was physically unable to ride for awhile.

Somewhere in the mid-nineties after a week long trip on my newer 1100 Virago, I came to the conclusion that these little boulevard cruisers just weren’t sustainable for long hard rides. Getting close to my 40’s, my body just got tired.  Later that same summer my husband suggested I ride his Gold Wing to Sturgis since he was unable to go on the trip with our friends. So onto the cruisers.  A hell of a lot more comfortable ride.  But, for me the Gold Wing was a bit top-heavy and I’m not.  I then migrated to a HD Electra Glide and finally found the right type of bike for me and the way I like to ride. At some point I migrated from the Electra Glide to a Road King.  It’s the same frame, but without the fairing and trunk, this bike is a bit more nimble and now it’s 20 more years down the road, the body is aging.  At that point, I figured this was my last bike.  I loved it and couldn’t see myself needing to ride anything different.  It would be my last bike.

But, alas I happened to be married to a man who was always looking for the next best thing I may need and he had a knack for spending other people’s money.  During the State Fair, I was perusing the rack of $20 t-shirts at a local Harley Dealer’s fair tent when my husband came over to me and said he found the perfect bike for me.  I told him I didn’t need a different bike, I like what I got.  He insisted I go look.  Long story short, I bought the bike.  It was still a Road King, but 4 years newer with a frame change and it was a CVO (I think that stands for Custom Vehicle Options).  It comes standard from the factory with a more powerful engine for that year and other performance and appearance upgrades including the awesome custom orange paint job.  It sat lower than my current Road Kind and I was a bit concerned that it wouldn’t be as comfortable of a fit for my long legs, but it still had the length of the frame so there was room to stretch them out.  He was right.  It was the perfect bike for me.  I bought it on the spot, even though I hadn’t ridden it (a big NO-NO in my book) so, I’m not even sure how that happened.  But of course, then I had to go back and pick out a different shirt.  The purple just wasn’t right for that paint job of the bike.  I needed orange.  Good thing they had it too, because $20 Harley t-shirts are a rare commodity.  I would have been severely disappointed if I couldn’t have gotten one to match my new bike. I couldn’t take the bike home until after the fair was over.  Finally, I got to pick it up and ride it home.  That ride home told me everything I needed to know.  This was my ride.

OK, back to that name thing.  I never even thought about it. Even though it’s quite clear to me that this is the ultimate bike for me and I’m going to ride it until it won’t let me anymore.   I believe it was something like “you’ll have to peel it out of my cold, dead hands.” I’m not giving it up for anything or anyone.  Even when I contemplated whether I should get a three-wheeler for the 50-state trip, I couldn’t see myself getting a different ride so I looked into converting this bike.   Fortunately for me, it didn’t take long for me to realize that converting the bike would change the ride that this bike gives me.  The ride is what it’s all about for me.  It’s about being one with my bike and experiencing the road, woman and machine.  I’ve found that to some degree with many of the bikes I’ve ridden in the past, but my literal comment when asked about how I like this bike is:  It rides like a fucking wet dream.  It’s a dream machine and the ride I get is the ultimate soul-freeing experience, which is what I ride for in the first place.

Even then, I never once thought about naming my bike.  I knew others did, I’ve heard it often from people I rode with.  It just never occurred to me.  I guess now, thinking about it, and getting a little deep in that thought I don’t see my bike as a separate being.  When I ride my bike it just becomes a part of me.  It’s me, it’s my experience, it’s mine.

So how and why do I not have a bike named Tripp?  Ask Alice.  She named it.  She was describing the script her son had suggested we do for a commercial.  There was something about her sitting on Scarlett and me rolling into the picture on my bike (puzzled look, and hand-wave as she tried to come up with a name for my bike…I don’t know…Tripp…two p’s, not one).  I’m thinking Tripp?  Well, yeah that kind of makes sense to me.  After all I’m going on the trip of my lifetime with this bike.  Yep. Tripp it is.

And, oh by the way, Alice.  Not to worry about Scarlett and Tripp trying to get together.  Tripp won’t leave me for anything.  We’re one.  It ain’t happening.

Love and Peace,

Chick