Men With Motorcycles, Please Apply

*I will wrap my arms around you if you take me for a ride*

On Sunday afternoon I was perched on the back of a Honda motorcycle, flying along the Ijsseldijk near Vaassen.  We leaned into curves so tight that I could have reached out and touched the pavement.  It literally took my breath away over and over again, and then I would giggle to myself like a maniac with the rush.  I cursed the Sunday drivers ahead of us, sighed at all the cyclists; didn't they know I needed the adrenaline??  And when a way opened, we'd zoom ahead and pass everyone, me clinging to Dennis (my motorcycling host) so I wouldn't slide off the back.

Strangely, I think the ride wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable if I were the one driving.  As the passenger I could close my eyes for a minute or try to relax while leaning into Dennis' back.  Of course, this isn't a bike you can really relax on; when I got off, the muscles in my butt, legs, and between my shoulder blades were cursing at me.  But part of "relaxing" was more about trusting him to not crash and leave pieces of me smeared on the pavement.  It was about moving in concert so as to not unbalance the machine and die.
It was exhilarating.

I thanked Dennis profusely.  "What?  You are thinking I did this for you?" he replied.  ^-^ 

don't judge.  i know i look weird.  you're just jealous.

*Seriously.    I mean it.    Non-euphemistically, of course.    Though you never know what will come of it... :P