Riding a Motorcycle; being a Woman

It was many years ago when I was waiting for a bus when I saw a dumb looking guy shooting past on a motorcycle.  I thought to myself, “I can ride a bike, how hard could a motorcycle be if this guy can operate it?”

I saw someone on a Vespa and asked about it, and the chap spoke with me, and then gave me two lessons. Once on basic operation, which was done in an empty lot, then riding around a block in a minor neighbourhood where there wasn’t much traffic.

I bought a second hand Yamaha 50 and began riding around.   I got a Learner’s permit, and then went for my licence, which I got.

I was the only woman who rode a motorcycle, possibly in the country.

This was in Barbados.

I returned to Jamaica where everyone told me not to get a motorcycle, and I didn’t.  I got a car, I could never drive, so had a driver, and this proved to be the worst idea ever.   The driver took the car as if it was his own, and often I was stranded.

Nearly five years later,  I bought a bike, a second hand Honda.  I had it for a few months, sold it, and bought a brand new Yamaha 100.

There was a police woman who also rode, so she and I were pretty much the only women riders.  I sold the 100, got a 115, rode that, sold it, bought a Yamaha 175.

I was in an accident five years ago, and sold the bike and took taxis.  Then, the chap I’d sold it to was leaving the island, asked if I wanted it back, I said yes, bought it back, and got back on.

This is to give you the background that I’ve been riding a very long time.