My father had owned a Harley in his youth. He’d tell us all sorts of tales about those days while we were growing up. I was fascinated with the stories.
In the seventies, he decided to buy a dirt bike. He settled on a Suzuki. We had the times the time of our lives on that bike. Sometimes, we’d just get short little high speed rides. Other times, we’d get an entire day roaming the mountain trails. For me there is nothing that compares to the feeling of the wind in my face.
My grandmother, Big Mama, decided she wanted to get in on the fun. You have to realize that she was over seventy years old at this time. My father agreed to take her for a spin. I’ll never forget the excitement at watching this old lady hop on the back of that bike wearing a dress and carrying her purse on her arm. Oh, yes, she did!
They took off with her dress flying in the wind. Her purse caught every limb hanging over the road. She never let go of my dad nor did she lose her purse! She was squealing, “Well, da Lawd. I be drop dead right now!” She continued to rant and rave throughout the ride. My father couldn’t hear a word she said over the rumble of the engine. We were laughing our heads off, but I was really a little worried she was going to get pulled off by her purse snagging a big tree branch.
When she got off she was exhilarated, a bit unsteady on her feet, disheveled hair, and a smooshed up dress, but her purse was intact. In fact, she was ready to take another turn. That may have been her first ride, but it was not her last. Throughout the next couple of years, she rode with my father a few more times and my brother as well.
I suppose you could say Big Mama rocked that motorcycle!