Our group included two jet pilots, one very rapid guide-and the two of us. By the end of t
"See you this afternoon," I say to her on my way out, trailing armloads of raingear and tripping over the wires of various electrical accoutrements.
"Actually," she says, "I think I'd like to come along."
Now, this is a whole new dimension for me. The mere fact that she agreed to come on this trip was, in my view, a remarkable gesture of fidelity and indulgence, primarily for my benefit. I was already feeling a little like a lottery winner. The fact that she is willing to ride in the rain, well ... I think I just took the Mega Lotto.
When we crest our first pass in the wet stuff, the boys are there doing their Sir Edmund Hillary thing, but this time the celebration is particularly joyous. I think this is what they mean by a vicarious experience-the guys seem to be enjoying our ride more than their own. There is a wonderful, if slightly blurry, photo of them walking toward us through the mist, with broad grins and arms upraised, as if their own beneficence carried us to the top.
It rained in Riva-but no one seemed to mind. Armed with electrics and ABS, we navigated th
As the week progresses, Meredith continues to be rock-solid on the back. I know I finally have achieved a true motorcycling conversion when, one evening at dinner, I look over and she is leaning from side to side, making motor noises. My wife is bench racing! Never thought I'd see the day...
A ride through the Dolomites will do that for you.
By the end of the week, we've done 25 passes and 800 miles. Better yet, no skin, plastic or pride damaged in the process-a boisterous good time from start to finish. I hate to admit it, but I learned a thing or two on this trip, from an unexpected quarter. I suspect we all did. Would it have been the same without my wife? I doubt it.
I've got an idea for this Sunday. It involves those enduring magnets of the male psyche: speed, horsepower and black leather. But this time I'll be wearing the intercom, and someone else will be calling the shots, from the back of the bike. It will be for my own good.