RSS Feed


Dude Write

This sexy little post has been dusted off for the Dudette Write challenge over at Dude Write. I’m tickled Peach to be amongst such handsome and intelligent company.  Special thanks goes to Ken over here for the recommendation!

Dude Write is an awesome forum for male bloggers that proves men are capable of writing the real, the honest and the insanely funny – all with stellar grammar skills. Amazing, considering if I were a guy I’d be less concerned with not ending sentences with a preposition and more concerned about not sitting on my own balls.

Go check them out. You won’t be disappointed.


My parents never once forbade me to ride a motorcycle, yet in all my thirty-four years I had only thrown a leg over one time.

That single occasion had been a spring break joyride on a friend of a friend’s burly black Harley. I remember the guy’s kindness in accommodating the wishes of a freshman-15’ed girl as much as I remember that stunning sunset as we lit over the bay bridges of Daytona Beach. The clouds had lingered that night amidst the most vivid streaks of peach and orange flame. Their magnificent reflections on the water stole my breath. I remember the speed and the thrill of the ride itself in the vaguest of tones because, as with all brilliant sunsets, memories fade far too quickly.

Now, in bright Technicolor and nearly half my life span later, I was once again throwing a leg over another black bike. This beast was no Harley, but a sleek and hefty Yamaha with more horsepower than was probably wise.  Settling onto the seat, I gingerly snaked my arms around the muscled ribcage of the man that continued to surprise.

safety first.

The badass helmet we had purchased for me was planted firmly atop my head, and by the way my cheeks smooshed ever so sexily against the inner cushioning it certainly wasn’t going anywhere.  Jason turned his head, clunking his helmet cutely into mine and said, “Just hold on tight, baby!!!”.

The man cranked the engine, revved it a few times, lifted his remaining foot off the ground, and we were off.

We rolled out of my neighborhood slowly, which let me adjust to the strange sensations of the creature I was perched atop. I could feel the heat of the engine warming the legs of my jeans.  I absorbed the noise of the powerful engine moving through the lower gears and felt the muffled whoosh of air through my helmet.  My eyes widened in surprise at the odd balance and motion of the first few turns, but I remembered from my first riding lesson to let the driver do the leaning. I just needed to relax and go with it.

When we reached the intersection of the first major road, Jason took my hands and with a seat-belt motion, pulled them tighter around his torso. The adjustment pulled the front of my body even closer to him. Whooo, me likey! Then he gently moved one of my hands to the top of my other wrist and wrapped my fingers around it, making a cinch that would be more solid than just holding onto his waist. With a satisfied nod of his head and a left-right check for oncoming traffic, he went.

And then we were flying. My arm muscles tightened instinctively around his body while my abs engaged to keep my weight close to him. The powerful acceleration force shoved my heart up into my throat.

It wasn’t scary. It was glorious.

The freedom. The danger. The wide open skies above me. My long swish of red hair trailing from underneath the helmet.  And most of all, the man who was ever so slowly managing to bring out the side of me that for years has lingered just below the surface – the daredevil, the wanderer, the adventurer.  That fearless me that life’s bruises had beaten down into the dreaded “be careful, or you’ll get hurt again” me.

The bright-eyed awe remained on my grinning face for the whole ride into town, where we had dinner at a burger joint that had hooks above the bar for our helmets. I’d been there before but never noticed the hooks or knew those existed for that purpose! After stuffing our faces we decided to try to beat the storm clouds that were looming, taking the highways this time instead of the back roads. The thrill I felt as we reached interstate speeds was exhilarating – the force of the wind on our bodies, the roar of the engine, the muscles of our legs pressed intimately together, and me clinging to him like a spider monkey.

Speeding away from Atlanta as the sun set behind the skyline, I realized I didn’t want the ride to end. I wanted to forever remain in that land of possibilities – the life with someone that not only allows me to be myself, but encourages it.  The life with someone every bit as adventure-loving as me. The life with someone who so far appears to have a big fat check mark in damn near every ridiculously picky qualifying box I’ve created. I was simply high on the concept that the combination of all three could actually be a reality. Could it, really?  Could there be even more than I’ve already seen?  More, could it be this good for a long, long time??? I smiled as I thought to myself that I only had one choice.

To hold on tight baby, and enjoy the ride.


This piece was previously submitted to the Yeah Write Challenge.  What is Yeah Write?  Pshhh.  Only the best writing/blogging community on teh internets. Git you some.

40 responses »

  1. How awesome, your joy really comes through here! Fun times 😀

  2. Oh, I loved this one, Peach! There is nothing like being on the back of a bike. You really captured the experience.

    I think you have found Mr. Wonderful. Good for you!

  3. ahhh i REALLY enjoyed this, chica. fantastic imagery- felt like i was right there with you.

  4. Oh, Peach! I love this post! For so many reasons: first, the way you write is just delicious. It gives your reader such a “picture yourself here” feeling. But also, I’m married to a fella that has been riding motorcycles forever and I know EXACTLY THE FEELINGS YOU DESCRIBED. It is exhilarating, and sexy, and powerful, and so “I feel alive!” – well done, you.

  5. I loved this. As I read I kept thinking of the phrase “young, wild, and free.” You captured that feeling perfectly. Well done.

  6. My first time on a bike I was a little girl and my step-dad, whom I adored, was driving. THRILLING. My second and last time was with a newbie who panicked if I leaned to far the wrong way. Not quite as fun. I’d like to go again.

    Beautiful writing.

  7. My dad used to take me riding on his Honda and later his Harley. I called the latter the Hardly Running Davidson because he spent so much time repairing it. (It was old when he got it, and he tinkered on it all the time). But I loved that feeling .Wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  8. Love, love, love!! I love that you sound SO happy. I love the way you describe the feeling of being on the back of the bike – I haven’t been on a bike many times, but the few times, yes, it’s this exactly! I love all of it. Well done!

  9. I didn’t want your night to end either. Hope it didn’t end too early and without a smooch. This story was exhilarating even for us bystanders just reading along with you. And theirs nothing like hanging onto a confident guy on a motorcycle, at least to me.

  10. Hhahah glad you enjoyed it! Motorcycles scare me

  11. I’ve never wanted to ride a motorcycle, until now. You make it sound like the most exhilarating time.

  12. I love the feeling of freedom that charged through this essay. it’s been a long time since i felt that life/death excitement. excellent.

  13. I can feel the thrill through your writing. I love the phrase “throw a leg over,” that’s awesome. I am terrified of motorcycles and am super conservative by nature, but you almost had me convinced I should try it just once. You wrote about it so beautifully.

    • Mama, it entered my mind in that moment, when I was overthinking how to get on it in the most ladylike fashion… except that there’s really no other way to get on the bike except… throw a leg over it! So I did.

  14. Great comparison to riding on the back of a bike and letting yourself trust and enjoy a new relationship. I’ve ridden on a bike a few times, one time with a man who I had a huge crush on and that time was so amazing. You’ve captured it perfectly 🙂

  15. I love a piece like this, that lets me live an experience I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE in my real life. Motorcycles freak me out – I’ve only been on one once and that’s quite enough, thank you – but I love the *idea* of the freedom they give. Seeing it through your eyes (which you did, through the wonderful descriptions of environment and perception) let me have the thrill of it without having to worry about my body racing over pavement with nothing to stop be from hitting it.

    • Love your feedback, Eric. I’ve been told all too often that I’m too descriptive/wordy and that I should alter my voice. Thank you for making me feel good in my own “writer” skin.

  16. Sweet, next stop: Sturgis. You’ll look great taking the mustard dipped hot dog off of the string. I’m just kidding, I don’t know you well enough to joke about you being a biker bitch. Do I?

  17. Oh, so much fun!! This was exhilarating to read, so I can only imagine what it was like to ride…

  18. This was thrilling to read. You did a great job capturing the experience and bringing your readers into it. I loved it! I’ve only been a motorcycle once, and I was scared to death, so you are way braver than me!

  19. As both a single woman and a woman who loves the freedom felt on the back of a motorcycle, I totally related to this post. Kudos and good luck in this weeks challenge.

  20. Awesome piece! Can’t say I’ve tried motorcycles, but I own a regular bicycle, cause I’m a rebel!

  21. Oh girl! I love the thrill of being close to a sexy man and feeling the rush of the curves in the road. My only complaint… my ass hurt so much at the end of the day I didn’t want to sit down for a week! 🙂 Beautiful story! Loved the imagery!

  22. You have to enjoy a good bike ride, it is so easy to get off into your own little world while riding, Excellent description of your ride this is one of the pleasures that makes life worth it 🙂

  23. Thanks again for coming in on short notice Peach.
    I really liked this story. And as the guy who occasionally has the arms of his wife locked around his waist and her squished tight against me as we cruise along a winding stretch of highway. It feels pretty darned good to be the guy on the front of the seat as well.

    Thanks for sharing this. 🙂

  24. Great, exciting post! Is it too redneck to feel the same way about a 4-wheeler?

  25. Beautiful imagery. It was a glorious smooth ride that left me wanting more. Ken done good. 🙂

    Good luck!

  26. Aww, Michael stole exactly what my first two words would be. I was there in the seat with you…and it wasn’t weird…as I could picture the ride from start to finish.

    Well written!



Speak your Mind

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: