motorbike

spring = motorbike.

The low drum of motorbikes zooming up and down the bridge above has been steady over the past week. The temperatures are so springy now…fresh and crisp and lovely. The biking bug has hit great guy too. So, the other day he rolled his ’76 BMW motorbike (sorry bike fans, I don’t know much more than that…it’s black and it’s old and it’s pretty cool) out of its winter resting place and got started sprucing it up.

After primping and preening and gassing it up, great guy hauled out his accumulated collection of helmets and leather coats and proceeded to try and outfit me for the first spin of the year. Listen, I am a titch taller than all the previous motorbike passengers he has had, an obvious fact made clear on more than one occasion, and so when I slid the pretty black helmet onto my lovely, delicate head, he was surprised that it fit. Ha. Unfortunately, there is not a hope in hell that I will fit into the tiny, black leather pants which were also left behind by a previous cool rider, so I’ll just be happy for now that the helmet fit me. And, maybe I’ll go and run 100 km later today…well, and turn them in capris.

We cruised up through town, up and up into the hills, through the forest, stopping for a late afternoon nip out on the terrace of the Heilig Kreuz, a quaint, old wald wirtschaft (restaurant in the woods) where great sister used to run her butt off as a waitress years ago. Then, jumping back on to the bike, we came out on the other side of the forest, combing the side of the berg, with a breathtaking view of the Rhein valley. Blue sky and sunshine above, slow-moving freighters and wide water below, trees and birds close by, all clipping past us. I hung on, loving the fresh air in my face and snuggling close to my guy.

The ride ended with us sitting outside, on the river bank, at great guy’s favorite weingarten. Now the freighters, some as long as 99 meters, moved at snail’s pace right in front of us…almost so close you could touch them. We tried to guess what loads they had on board while the three resident weingarten ducks, tall and thin, brown, black and white, waddled in single file around us, honking in greeting. I felt like I was on holidays.