"I don't think you're a rude biker chick," Doc said.
"Sometimes speaking about things others don't want to hear is considered rude, Doc. People find me rude because I want to talk about my feelings, and because I say what I think, instead of what is socially acceptable."
"Oh well, then if that's considered rude, that's what you are. Many people are offended by the truth, but that doesn't make it any less true."
I've known Doc for over 15 years. He had just started his own practice right after I had moved to Menifee and my daughter and I were a couple of his first patients. He was my family doctor for all of the years I had a family, and as his practice grew, so did my confidence in him. We also developed a long-lasting friendship over these years, including one falling out and recovery, which seems to be the hallmark of a real friendship. Although we are the same age, Doc's children are much younger than my daughter. He and his beautiful wife have had 4 kids in the last 8 years.
The nurses in Doc's office are some of my sweetest friends. The ladies have a certain toughness to them; an undeniable edge mixed with determination and tenderness that separates them from other women I know. I love these women and their honesty.
Visiting Doc and the nurses is just one of many stops I make on my weekly trips to Menifee from San Diego. They were excited to talk to me about the project that has been sucking up all of my time and energy recently.
"Rude Biker Chick ~ Lessons From My Daddy" is a non-fiction memoir I've been writing. This week I sent my final work off to my editor and it is in the final stages of production. Slated to be released as an E-book in January 2015, this is the story of the lessons I learned from my Daddy along the first year of our Road Pickle Motorcycle Bohemia.
Writing began last October when we arrived in San Diego, CA after riding across the country for 6 months. During that entire ride, memories of my Daddy's words were whispered in my ear along the way. His voice, whether they be recollections or new enlightenment on his prior teachings, carried me through the toughest times, as well as helped me appreciate the best of times.
In over 15,000 miles I found a part of myself that had long since been buried under years of pain and sorrow.
My goal is to have printed copies completed by March or April 2015.
Now that the grueling task of writing the book is behind me, I can get back to dedicating myself to my career and riding my motorcycle. A few nights ago I asked Steve to help me remove the windshield from my V Star.
"Why would you take your windshield off? I searched everywhere to put one on my bike!" my friend Diane asked.
"It's far more fun to ride without it! Faster, better gas mileage, lighter, easier to maneuver. I hate having a windshield, but I know it's a must for the touring."
My ride to Menifee and back to San Diego is about 160 miles of Interstate over the round trip. At 80 mph just to keep up with traffic, it's quite a workout without the windshield. By the end of the day yesterday, I was truly exhausted, but happy. Even though it is more work, riding without the heavy "sail" is worth the effort. Riding without a windshield exposes me to more of what I ride to find.
I'm finding that the more difficult the path, the greater the reward in life. Writing "Rude Biker Chick" was a tremendous amount of effort, taking time away from my business and family, as well as reducing me to a sobbing mess on a regular basis. Reliving the past proved to be overwhelming during the process, but now that I'm on the other side, I feel a tremendous freedom. A bit like riding without a windshield, writing the book exposed me to more pain and effort, but I also gained the satisfaction of achievement.
It is my goal to lighten my load and live life without a windshield to block reality.