I learned how to ride a bicycle when i was pretty young. It was a stolen one from my friend Soni’s Dad. Soni had a brother just a year older than us. We grew up in the same village and went to the same school. I never had a brother, so we kind of shared Soni’s bro for our tomboy adventures. Their Dad was a teacher and rode the black mamba to school and back everyday but when he needed to go to town, he left it at home. Those were the days going to town was ceremonial. It only happened when coffee farmers had been paid or the few salaried men and women got paid. They were the children’s best days as we got to eat pork/meat. I miss those days, i surely do. Anyway, those are the days when we got the chance to ride the Black Mamba. We would line up to get a chance to ride and Soni and her brother would chose the lucky ones to get the ride. That is how i joined the two wheels club. However, those days, we only cared to have a pair of shorts or trouser under your dress so as not to show the forbidden to the public. There was never any other worry.

Then you grew up and you have all these changes, the body, the size, the interests, the ambitions, hobbies, careers, family and then, Cousin Red. That unwelcome, unexpected and arrives without notice. Don’t get me wrong, not your family member or friend. Your “Cousin Red”! Ladies are getting it am sure but guys you are forgiven if you are still clueless. After crushing Soni’s Dads bicycle, i took a break from riding. I never got to learn to swim either because, “our pool” (read river) was only reserved for boys and girls were forbidden from ever getting close not unless it was time to fetch water and firewood. Which time the boys would be away herding cattle and cutting nappier grass. So i left the village before enjoying River Thagana.

crimson wave

See, i missed the two opportunities to know how to handle Cousin Red on two wheels and pool. The third opportunity came along when i got my motorbike. Cousin Red dictates a 5 days leave every month from my motorbike, for reasons my follow MotorGirls will understand. I took the leave for the first couple of months and after politely explaining several times that am not riding the motorbike this week because am “Riding the Crimson Wave”. (Ooh damn, sounds like i had a superior brand than Harley’s (God drop that Harley my way) i had to re-evaluate my myths, taboos, i can’t, i don’t, i and i and i and i. Well, this didn’t come without a lesson. I once defied the leave orders and got caught up in the rain, actually storm, Kenyan version. My pretty, soft, scented, very comfortable cotton airplane had been well painted but with the rain, the paint begun to drip. Yes, down my Kevlar jeans in total disregard of the fact that (1) I needed them the following day as my plan was still to defy the orders, (2) The fact that they are very expensive and so i only own one pair and (3) Damn it, there will be no black out when I get home and so everyone will see my now looking like tie and dye kevlars. The rest of my ride home was mainly spent planing how to get into the apartment without being noticed. Thanks God for journey mercies.

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I have since made “Spirit Stick” my five day vacation friend. Talk of a genius who invented this term, it is backed by the teachings of a church, if you are a church person, bears a spiritual name, and defines the real experience, connection, benefits and joy of the stick. The Moon Unity Church of southwestern New Mexico, which the term is derived from, believed that that tampons allow women to connect their inner selves with the outside world. Now, how sweet is that? Huh!!

And I as a MotorGirl and all other MotorGirls we say….. It is TRUE.

Ride on MotorGirls.

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