Being Illegal to be Legal

Being Illegal to be Legal

I took my motorcycle to town at about 10:00 to ride it around and get to know the city before my motorcycle license road-test at 13:00. I rode all over town, practicing turns and driving with traffic for over two hours. At 12:20 I was getting hot, so I went to take my coat off. I wanted to put my jacket in the trunk of the motorcycle, and I shut off the bike after practicing a parallel park on the street in a residential area. When I went to get on and go again, the bike was dead. No power. Nothing. I was 40 minutes from my test. I did not know what to do, so I called brother Dan. He said he would be right there. I ran to a corner to find the street sign to see where I was. He put the address into his GPS and raced to fetch me.
Dan showed up in his truck. We raced back to his town, 18 kms away. I got on Garrett’s crotch-rocket and had no choice but to drive 140 km/h to get back to the city in time for my road-test appointment, blowing past other cars on the way to be road-tested about my knowledge of the rules of driving and to test my motorcycle riding capabilities. That irony was not lost on me…

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