I have two very distinct sides to my personality, dueling forces that pull me in opposing directions with near cartoon ideation. Although Devil and Angel would be easier to deal with, mine are more Old Lady and Free Spirited Gypsy. As much as I would like to tell you that Gypsy wins the battles, it’s Old Lady that tends to run the show.
A few years ago Gypsy got ahold of the controls and decided to buy a motorcycle. Paying penance to Old Lady, I singed up for a Motorcycle Riders Training Course. It was a three day crash course (pun intended) in how to ride a motorcycle without killing yourself. I also allowed the Old Lady side of me to buy the safest helmet and motorcycle jacket with amor I could find.
The first day of class I was equal parts nervous and intimidated, as I noticed I was the only novice in the group and one of the youngest. Most were crotch rocket guys wanting to “blast the Crest” as soon as possible. The only other girl was a woman who wanted to learn to ride so she could bike cross-country with her partner for their 20 year anniversary.
No one talked to me. Really, no one talked. We were all a bit insular trying to figure out how to learn not to kill ourselves, drowning in the Dead People Smeared On The Road stories told by the ex-bike cop who taught the class. On the final day of class we met early in the morning in a parking lot in Long Beach just as it started to rain. A little drizzle that scares the crap out of most of Los Angeles. We were given the opportunity to come back on a non-rainy day but collectively decided, with a series of sideways glances and nods, that we would all stay and ride like Bad Ass SoCal People in the very lightly drizzle.
The final segment of the day was an obstacle course through the gigantic empty parking lot. Trying to make sure I was at least in the top half of the pack, time wise, I set out a bit faster than I should have. As I rounded the first curve, set over a large white arrow painted on the pavement of the parking lot, my bike slipped out from under me and began to skid along the wet ground as I tumbled in the opposite direction. Ex-bike cop was visibly relieved to see that I was fine and address the issue with the group by saying, “I think now is a really good time to tell everyone that paint on the pavement gets really slippery when it rains.”
To which I responded, “No, ten minutes ago would have been a really good time to say that. At this point, it’s pretty obvious.”
Sometimes, when you are so immeshed in an activity, you don’t think to state what’s really obvious to you, like ex-bike cop and the paint. For me, it’s this chicken. Maybe you’ve noticed that I tend to lean away from that popular Boneless Skinless Chicken Breast that we all grew up with. Mostly because it’s so often dry and flavorless. If you favor that cut, try the boneless skinless chicken thigh filets, so much more flavor and they can take some serious heat before they dry out. Chicken thighs are a bit of secret ingredient when it comes to chicken dishes, making you favorite chicken breast recipe taste at least 30 percent better if you use the thighs instead. They do take a bit longer to cook, but it’s completely worth it.
And that was the only time I ever dumped a bike. At least so far.
I also use this micropalne (affiliate link) all the time. Perfect for grating garlic in seconds, much easier than mincing with a knife.