The Blooming of The First Ride Issue #232 | Had, First, Out, Have, Were

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The Blooming of The First Ride Issue #232

Written by Nancy Irwin
Thursday, 12 July 2007
Everyone has their own version of the “First Ride of the Season.” No two First Rides are ever the same, but one thing is true: if you don’t live in a place where you can ride through the winter, pampered Victoria for example, then there is that exceptional moment when you take your First Ride. The other exceptional moment is when you see someone has beat you to it! Such was the case for me this year. My work schedule didn’t coincide with the first actual warm day of the dawning season, so I had to work while others were out testing themselves against winter’s last grip. The first day of riding weather here in Toronto may have seemed comparatively mild, but the perspective is that, though the streets were clear, my driveway was still covered in ice and snow. Perhaps it was just as well I had to work that day; I would have hated enlisting the neighbours to help pick my bike off the icy ground. I’m not worried now, though. We’ve had a taste of spring and the snowdrops have now risen in my front garden, followed shortly after by crocuses. The daffodils will be up soon. I can easily judge weather by the arrival of flowers as they first begin to bloom. Motorcycles appear approximately at the same time, when the first real break in the weather occurs. Though, it seems some people don’t get their bikes out until we’re well into tulip weather. In many ways, the first outing of the season conjures feelings of a motorcyclist’s first few days as a novice rider. The excitement level is similar, the passion is there, and it’s not about going anywhere in particular. Early spring rides are about nothing but riding. They’re about just getting out there, remembering the sensations, refreshing skills, practicing tight, slow turns. It’s also about making sure everything on the bike still works or remembering what it was you had intended to correct or replace over the winter hibernation. Two days before my first ride the park across the street, like my driveway, had been covered in ice and snow. The miracle of green had not yet begun. The daily high was just above freezing but weather reports had promised stellar conditions by week’s end—close enough to plan. I already had time booked off work and surely there was some errand I had to run, some excuse to ride downtown or cruise the beaches. Alas, before I could take advantage of the day, I had a duty to attend. It was the day before a major motorcycle show at the Canadian National Exhibition and I had offered up my aged Triumph to the local chapter of the Canadian Vintage Motorcycle Group as part of the club’s exhibit. There wasn’t a lot required on my part but I did have to extract the Triumph from deep in my garage, then wait around for the truck that would haul it down to CNE grounds. That done, I decided to jump on my BMW and ride to the show venue—if for no other reason than to take advantage of the free parking offered to exhibitors such as myself and the equally free entry pass for the weekend. As a bonus, I had the pleasure of seeing my Triumph in a group of vintage motorcycles and catching a glimpse of what the show would be like when I returned on Sunday. On casual inspection, everything seemed fine, and the cluster of custom bikes assembled for the show were especially eye-catching. But there was something else. I stopped to visit the owners of the Motorcycle Super Store and saw pink helmets on their display. Pink helmets? Turns out there are so many women now riding that manufacturers have begun producing helmets in shades of pink. Keep your eyes out this summer for the latest trend. I left the show and took the long route to Parkdale where my favourite roti shop is located on Queen West. With the thermometer hovering around the 14C mark, the conditions were almost luxurious for sitting outdoors at a sidewalk cafe and, in Toronto, street parking is free for motorcyclists. I felt warmed by the heat of the sun and the knowledge that summer was really coming along. Fourteen degrees on a motorcycle isn’t exactly balmy, but it sure is do-able—especially after a long cold winter. I wasn’t the only one not working. I saw an amazing number of bikes on the road that day, though some were scooters. (None were police.) And so it was that I rejoined the living; I entered that elite corps of early season riders—the sort who make dawdlers think about their own bikes and why they aren’t riding at that moment, or who make others stop to think about buying a motorcycle this year, either for the first time or as a return to the sport. Sport. Calling it a sport legitimizes the passion. Calling it a sport makes it sound practical. Sometimes I even fill in the word “motorcycling” on that line at the bottom of forms where you are asked to list the activities, interests and past achievements that define you as a person. Regardless of whether you see motorcycling as a sport, lifestyle or even just a mildly amusing pastime, now is the time of year to begin planning summer rides. In fact, I think there’s someplace I need to go right now, and I’ll figure out where once I’m bundled up and out there on my bike, heading down the road. Comments (0) Subscribe to this comment's feed Write comment You must be logged in to a comment. Please register if you do not have an account yet.