Mishaps On the Wings of My Nighthawk

Timeframe:  Various events from 1996 to 1998

I had a few memorable happenings and mishaps with the Nighthawk once I got her fixed up after my crash.  Rather than create an entry for each one, I thought I would condense them here.  One of my most memorable was my first ride by myself on the freeway.  I thought I might take a trip down into Portland... but that didn't last very long.  You see... in the past, I'd always ridden on the back of my brother's bike, so I always had him to buffer me from the wind.  The Nighthawk didn't have a windshield, so when I got onto SR14 from 164th St., heading west towards Portland, and I felt the wind on me, and had cars next to me, all while we were doing about 55/60MPH, I got scared... yes... I am admitting I was scared going fast on a motorcycle!!  LOL!!  I got off at the very next exit, turned around, and went home.

However, that's not where my mishap ends.  I hadn't quite gotten the hang of downshifting on the bike, and was always grateful when the light was red when I came to an intersection.  This allowed me to pull in the clutch and just get it into neutral or first while stopping.  Then, start from first again.  This time, though, the traffic light gods were not on my side.  The light turned green just as I was riding down the off-ramp and cars were behind me... so I HAD to slow down enough to make the turn without stopping.  I got to the turn but I was going too slow, and wasn't sure what gear I was in, so was afraid (yes, there's that word again) to let out the clutch and give it throttle.  I ended up taking the turn way too wide, and I was headed for the sidewalk under the overpass.  And, because it was the overpass, on the other side of the sidewalk was the concrete wall that supported the overpass.  I was not looking forward to hitting that wall, and to this day, I don't know how I didn't, but somehow, the bike just jumped up on the curb, and got turned so it I was riding on the sidewalk, perpendicular to the direction I had just been traveling.  When I realized that I hadn't crashed, I decided I better keep going, so I somehow got the courage to let the clutch out and give it some throttle so I had power to the rear wheel.  When I was moving successfully, I turned to look behind me, to make sure there were no cars coming, and I jumped back down off the curb as if I meant to do that whole little stunt.  Hopefully, anyone who saw me, just shook their head and thought "What a hooligan" instead of "Dear Lord, that poor girl is going to kill herself".  LOL!!  I ended up making it home without further mishap.

Another time, I decided to take a ride out to the coast.  For anyone who has ever made the trip from the Vancouver/Portland area, you know it is a beautiful ride on wide sweeping roads through the (mostly) wilderness, and it takes about 2 to 3 hours.  I really enjoyed the ride, and it was great getting to spend some time at the rugged Oregon coast.  On the way back, I had another enjoyable ride until... I ran out of gas.  For those of you who don't know about motorcycles, these older bikes (and even some newer ones) don't have gas gauges.  You have to track the miles you've ridden since the last fill up by remembering to reset the odometer each time, know what kind of gas mileage you get, and fill up before you run out of gas.  The bikes DO have a bit of a safety called a reserve, which is usually a half gallon to a gallon of gas.  When you get to that level, the bike acts like it's running out of gas, so you reach down under the tank, and twist the knob to turn it from "on" to "reserve".  Well, I had to hit the reserve on the way back, but there aren't many gas stations along the way, so I didn't make it to one before even reserve gave out.  I pulled off to the side of the road and wasn't sure what to do.  This was before we had cell phones, so I couldn't just pull out my phone and call someone, like we can today.  I was hoping someone would notice me and pull over, but I was thinking maybe I should try to flag someone down.  Thankfully just when I was thinking that, a car pulled over with a lady driving.  She asked me if I needed help and I explained that I ran out of gas, so she said there was a gas station down the road and she could bring me back some gas.  I don't remember all of the details, but I DO remember it didn't take her too long to come back with a gas can full of gas, and I paid her more than what she said it cost, because she had to use her own gas to get there and back, plus take time out of her day to help me.  I was very grateful that she stopped and helped me.  I started the bike and off I went.  When I hit the gas station, I stopped and topped it off for the rest of the ride home.  I learned my lesson that day to pay attention to my gas levels and get gas as often as possible.

Another time, I rode into Portland's downtown 23rd area, known as the "hip" part of town.  I loved it down there, and would often go to a pizza place called "Pizza My Heart".  It was the closest thing I could get to good NJ pizza, so I went frequently.  This particular day, I was looking for parking and saw a Harley Davidson Sportster parked in a spot.  It was parallel parking and there was room for another bike, so I pulled over and backed my bike into the spot, next to the Harley.  As I took my helmet off, I heard a man's voice behind me say, "You don't see many female riders around."  I looked and it was a tall, good looking guy with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a well-groomed beard and mustache.  We made introductions and I found out his name was Andy.  It was his Sportster I parked next to and he was on his way out.  Later he told me he still had half a cup of coffee left, but when he saw me, he gulped it down and ran over to talk to me.  LOL!!  We talked for a few minutes and exchanged numbers.

The next weekend, Andy and I met up for a short ride along the Columbia River Gorge.  I'd already been out that way along the Scenic Route along the waterfalls, but Andy took us on the south side of route 84 to a little rest area.  We parked the bikes and I thought we were going to a lookout or something.  He started opening his saddlebags and pulling out plastic bags which contained lunch for us as well as a blanket to sit on!!  What a nice surprise!!  He brought smoked salmon, various cheeses, bottled waters, various crackers and other goodies I don't really remember.  I offered my help to carry a bag and we walked on a short path up a hill to a clearing.  We laid out the blanket, sat down, and enjoyed lunch over conversation.  Andy and I spent quite a bit of time together over the next few months.

On one ride with Andy, we were going through downtown Portland and I was following him.  Up ahead the traffic light turned from green to yellow.  Andy hit the throttle to get through the yellow light, and so did I.  Then, at the last minute I guess he realized I was behind him, so he hit his brakes.  I couldn't stop that quickly, but I tried.  I grabbed the front brake hard, and hit the rear brake with my foot.  I must have given it too much rear because the rear locked up and started sliding out to the side.  I could feel the rear coming around to the side and the bike starting to lay down.  I just let it go, and jumped off.  I must have looked quite comical, because I still had momentum and couldn't stop myself.  I just kept running and I ran up the sidewalk, and slammed into the building that was right there... but hey, at least I didn't land on the ground with the bike!!  Andy, came back to help me pick up the Nighthawk, we checked it out and it seemed to be damage-free, so I started it up and we kept going.

Another time Andy and I went riding on the Washington side of the Columbia River Gorge, where the road is twistier and goes higher.  Andy had claimed to be an ex-roadracer and he was a good rider.  This particular day, he brought his other bike, an older Yamaha Seca.  He road through the twisties pretty fast and I'm a competitive person by nature so I was doing what I could to keep up.  The entire ride, I had my front tire pretty much even with his rear tire.  It was a fun and exhilarating ride!!  I knew I couldn't have gone that fast on my own, but having Andy ahead of me showing me the right lines and trusting his riding, made it easy for me to go that fast.  Afterwards we talked about it and I was very excited as I told him how much fun it was for me and I couldn't believe that I kept up with him!!  Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.  I can't say for sure, but I think it may have bruised his ego a bit, because we never went riding together again.  He always claimed his bikes were down with some problem.

This would be the end of my riding adventures for a little while.  I would still take the bike out occasionally, for short trips around town, but I began to focus on scuba diving for a little while.  My next few posts will be about my beginnings in scuba diving as well as making a connection with someone very special... then I will get back to some fun motorcycle stories...