So, yesterday I passed the practical exam for my motorcycle license. Wouldn’t say it was a cinch, and I have many people to thank for my success. First and foremost is my driving instructor Holger with his excellent teaching, his good cheer and savvy in all things official. And of course the family member who started the fire in me: my daughter, that’s her in the lead picture with our two bikes.
Come to think of it, it was two months from idea to execution, not bad, even if I say so myself. 😉
Anyway, once I had my preliminary license in hand (the machine-readable, credit card-sized one is sent to your home), I had ninety minutes to spare ’til the start of the first autonomous ride with my daughter. Plus, I hadn’t had breakfast (couldn’t stomach it, I always get nerves in an examination situation…), so lunch was in order. I went to a country inn I had noticed earlier because of it’s innovative menus. The dish of the day was a cutlet in the dimensions of the landlord’s shoe size. He himself greeted me effusively with the words: “My dear biker, how can I be of service?”. I must have projected my pride in the just acquired license outward, or maybe it was me parking the hog right in front of the restaurant’s entrance (it was the only vacant slot, I swear!).
The Schnitzel was great in both meanings of the word, but when I was finished, I was surprised by a house rule. Anyone managing this humungous leaf of meat earns himself a second Schnitzel on the house. I couldn’t turn it down and had it packed in a doggy bag, it went along for the rest of the day’s ride in a saddlebag without taking any harm.
Our ride took us to Thuringia’s capital city Erfurt on the pretense of collecting a visor for my daughter’s helmet we had ordered in a motorcycle accessory store. Getting there and back, we tried to adapt our riding styles to each other, the intercom sets in the helmets helped a lot there. In fact, it was fun being able to talk to one another bike to bike, it lent a whole new dimension to the experience. My daughter has been riding for almost two years, so she could advise me on traffic situations and strategies. If she could still reach me, that is, the chopper is, of course, quicker off the start than her 125 cc bike.
Having got the visor, we took a rest stop at a mexican restaurant and had non-alcoholic mojitos and iced coffee. For the way back, we picked a scenic route along some one-lane country roads and through some small villages, got lost, found our way again and arrived back home at 5:30 pm. Taking off my gloves, my palms looked an unhealthy shade of blue. Guess I’ll have to work on that death grip!