Motorcycle Riding

This is me. This is the bike Mr. Wonderful and I go riding on. Do you see the teeny tiny little seat by my bum, above the rear fender? That's the spot where I sit. Do you see how my hips look wider than that tiny seat? Yep, I love to ride but that tiny seat is the bane of my existence. It's really hard and really small and after about an hour of riding, my hiney really hurts. My mister knows when my hiney has had it because I start to squirm around a lot, looking for a comfortable spot. It isn't really about the width of my hiney...it's my hiney bones being crunched against that hard seat. We got a gel pad for it but it doesn't do too much good. You see, that bike wasn't really made for touring with a passenger. It's supposed to look super cool and if it had a old lady seat on the back it would lose it's sexiness. I get that.

Unfortunately, I guess I'm becoming an old lady because I don't want my hiney bones hurting for 2 days after going riding! By now, any of you who read my blog probably know that I had super major supremely invasive rough and tumble and pounding and sawing and drilling back surgery so the jolts that travel up through my poor hiney bones also travel up to my poor back bones. "Why doesn't that fruitcake girl just not ride the bike?" you're probably asking yourself. Well, if I quit riding I wouldn't have an hour long excuse to snuggle up against Mr. Wonderful's back with my arms around him. And I wouldn't be seen around town riding on a super cool looking motorcycle, looking super cool. And I'm afraid that I might turn into a flannel gown wearing, Geritol swallowing, prune eating, Price is Right watching old lady and we can't have that!

I'm not sure what's going to happen yet. I guess I'll keep squirming and riding and holding on tight to Mr. Man. If we didn't have that outlet, we might go crazy!