I am an enlisted sailor stationed in San Diego. I enjoy cars and bikes so I hang out at the local cruise-ins and shows to meet people. This is a story about what happened one night while hanging out.
I was looking at a 1969 Charger when I heard a bike pass by going real slow. I happened to look over and it was a bike just like mine except it had some modifications that gave it a much more radical idle to say the least. I noticed the rider was very small framed and thought it could even be a woman.
She parked the bike in an open spot a few down from where I was and dismounted the bike. She took her helmet off and she was a very nice looking, slim, shorter woman with long strawberry blonde hair. I walked up and said, "Sounds good. What mods do you have?"
She replied, "Cams, heads, and rejetted, along with the pipes and a few other goodies."
"Nice, "I said, "How fast have you had it up to?"
She replied, "About 170, but I was too scared to push it any more. It has more throttle than I have guts!"
I agreed, "I've had mine to 140 once and that was scary enough. There are really no places around here to open it up."
She questioned, "You ride?"
I replied, "Yes, same bike as yours without the mods. I am not sure how radical I want to go with it if any at all. I am a novice."
She laughed, "Me, too, but I can hang with the club pretty well."
I asked, "Are you from the area?"
She replied, "No. Just stationed here for another year."
"Navy, "I asked?
"Yes, I'm a J O, "she replied.
I told her, "I'm just an FC2. Been in 3 years."
"Nothing wrong with that, "she said.
We talked a little while longer, introduced ourselves, and I appreciated her beauty the whole time as well as how down to earth she was. She was not a typical snobby officer. Her hazel eyes lit up every time I told a joke and her sexy overbite really set off her smile.
She noticed something across the street and said, "Oh, shit. There's my ex-boyfriend. It's time to bail. If you want to ride some, meet me down in the drug store parking lot about two blocks down."
I said, "Cool, be there in a few."
I walked quickly down to where my bike was parked, geared up, and rode down to meet her.
"How much gas you got?" she asked.
I checked and replied, "3/4 tank."
"Cool. I'll show you where to ride. No cops, good twisties, and no houses around, "she stated.
"I'll follow you, "I said.
We rode northeast out to some hills and winding roads. I did my best to keep up but her bike was faster than mine and she was a hell of a rider as well. We came up to an oddly banked road and she didn't drive into the corner correctly. She leaned in and went up over the hump in the road, lost traction on the other side and all I could do was watch the sparks fly from her left peg as she tried to maintain some control. She managed not to drop the bike but it shook her up pretty badly.
She slowed down and motioned me up to her. She said, "I gotta pull over."
We pulled over, shut our bikes off, and took our helmets off. She said, "I damn near peed myself back there. Holy crap, my hands are even shaking!"
I said, "I thought you had lost it for sure. I can see the headlines in the Navy Summary of Mishaps!"
We both laughed. When I got off my bike she looked at the seat and said, "What does that say?"
I replied, "Rocket Man. It was on here when I bought the bike. I bought it from a chief off of my ship that was going through a divorce so I got it pretty cheap though. I am going to replace it, but new seats are pretty pricey."
She laughed and said, "We have to get that off of there. I have my original seat at home somewhere and I'll either loan it to you until you get a new one, or sell it to you reasonable. Either way, that thing has to go."
I said, "That's okay, you don't have to go through any trouble."
She said, "Really, I don't mind. Follow me!"
We suited back up and rode west towards the ocean. I followed her and this time, she maintained a much slower pace. It was a nice ride.