January 17, 2024 · 22 min read
Navigating the Road to Courage
Dedicated to my Mum, Anne Ferraioli, as this is probably the closest, I will ever get to writing a book!
Navigating the Road to Courage
Dedicated to my Mum, Anne Ferraioli, as this is probably the closest, I will ever get to writing a book!
We were gathered around the dinner table sharing stories of the day and enjoying an incredible view of the Alps—the Alps that we had all just ridden through. When it was my turn to share, I experienced one of those light-bulb moments – a rare awe-inspiring flash when the truth is spoken in all its authenticity and rough edges. While exposing my vulnerability, I had never felt so strong. This is the story I shared…
A meme I once saw, stated FEAR has two meanings, Forget Everything and Run or Face Everything and Rise. My journey to the latter began not in the Alps while I faced a mountain too high to see above the clouds, but in a wee hamlet, halfway between Edinburgh and Glasgow, Scotland where I lived with my family, including my younger brother, Anth.
I am a 48-year-old Scot, who immigrated to a whole new country (the US) 23 years ago to chase the quintessential American Dream. A scientist by trade, I am pragmatic and logical. As a child I was diagnosed with asthma, my maternal Grandmother died in her early 30s from it. I remember long stays in hospital and being banned from my favorite beverage- Barr’s Irn Bru. Asthma often forced me to face life and death limitations that were out of my control and in reflection led my life in two distinct directions: 1. To always be as healthy as possible 2. To develop a life-long dream of curing asthma as a doctor. Being a doctor was far away from our humble roots and so with my dad’s help I developed grit and determination, not to be controlled by my limitations, but rather control them. At school I often worked round the clock to learn and succeed and outside of school, I consistently dug deep to control and push limits through pursuing risky pursuits. When I couldn’t control everything in my day-to-day life, my response to fear was the one thing I learned to face. Or so I thought…
… For most of our lives, Anth and I were stereotypical competitive siblings doing our best to outdo one another in academics, sports, and hobbies. So, when 18-year-old Anth, grinning ear-to-ear and chest puffed out, showed up with a used motorcycle and dared me to ride with him on the new contraption, I couldn’t resist his challenge. I hopped on the back, heart racing and hands trembling, scared but thrilled to move through danger, and shouted, “Go slow!” He of course did not, and as we reached the end of our street, mere seconds later, I was completely and utterly terrified and surprised I survived. This time the fear did take control and discovered that sometimes the Forget Everything and Run method, works to preserve life! I promised that day, never to darken the seat of a motorcycle again!
Once I set my mind to something, there is no changing it. As years passed, my dedication to anti-motorcycling grew to include a lifelong ban of my first husband ever riding. My resolve deepened when my brother encountered the enemy of all motorcyclists – a reckless driver – losing his spleen and almost his life to a hit-and-run motorist, who had purposefully run him off the road and fled the scene. I remember thinking that day “Why on earth would anyone EVER ride a motorcycle”.
By 2014 (20 years later), I had achieved great success at controlling and effectively calculating risk through a career in Program Management and Strategy Execution in the Pharmaceutical Industry. Not quite a Doctor, but I still focus on helping not just asthmatics but all faced with illness. I also avoided everything to do with those ridiculously risky motorcycles.
I was happily driving full-speed down the highway of life, continuing to grow pride in everything being well and truly under control, reveling when my team commented, “Do you ever sleep?” I blissfully ignored all signs that this accelerated insanity was leading me to— a complete and utter breakdown of my marriage. As I approached my 40th year, I became a single parent in a foreign country and lost the job at the company I had bet it all on. I was truly and utterly lost in a world I thought I had learned to perfectly navigate!
There was no running this time. The thing I feared most had insidiously creeped out of nowhere and had to be faced! Armed with my big girl panties, I went forth into the world of divorce.
For those of you that have not faced divorce, it is agonizing! You are Russel Crowe facing Joaquin Phoenix in the final scene of Gladiator, you are bleeding, hardly able to breathe, facing up to the person across the arena, who just a few days ago was your family! You stand tall trying to forget about the seething wounds below your newly appointed armor and then they let the lions out! As I left the arena, I reached my 40th birthday. But instead of physical gifts, I was instead awarded something far more valuable. A deeper strength that knew I could face the most unsurmountable of fears and survive!! I didn’t design the limits I was willing to defy this time, but by digging deep I was still able to face them and overcome them. It was truly liberating. Armed with this new perspective, I was able to take on a small assignment from my former company. This helped me ease back onto the road to normalcy. The job was much less intensive but pushed me to face another fear I had tried to avoid through the years – technology.
My teammate, Jim whom I was assigned to ‘help’ was the complete opposite of me! At first blush, he loved everything technology and had a more quiet and reserved personality and appearance. He was quite abrupt and expressed grave concern when I didn’t know what a BRD (Business Requirements Document) was, especially since he needed my help to write one during the next few weeks. I felt like a duck out of water and so leaning back on this newfound courage, I “took the bull by the horns”, asked lots of questions, and did lots of research until I was somewhat competent. It worked, Jim was delighted by my passion for perfection and I learned another valuable life lesson, fear can be overcome with hard work, dedication, and practice! As our trust in each other grew, our relationship moved beyond the work, and we started to talk about our common threads – divorce, being a single parent, solving problems, adrenaline sports, perfectionism. Then he sent me a picture of his latest passion – a motorcycle! Screech to halt…what?! I unexpectedly had once again collided straight on with one of my greatest fears!
A meme I once saw, stated FEAR has two meanings, Forget Everything and Run or Face Everything and Rise. My journey to the latter began not in the Alps while I faced a mountain too high to see above the clouds, but in a wee hamlet, halfway between Edinburgh and Glasgow, Scotland where I lived with my family, including my younger brother, Anth.
I am a 48-year-old Scot, who immigrated to a whole new country (the US) 23 years ago to chase the quintessential American Dream. A scientist by trade, I am pragmatic and logical. As a child I was diagnosed with asthma, my maternal Grandmother died in her early 30s from it. I remember long stays in hospital and being banned from my favorite beverage- Barr’s Irn Bru. Asthma often forced me to face life and death limitations that were out of my control and in reflection led my life in two distinct directions: 1. To always be as healthy as possible 2. To develop a life-long dream of curing asthma as a doctor. Being a doctor was far away from our humble roots and so with my dad’s help I developed grit and determination, not to be controlled by my limitations, but rather control them. At school I often worked round the clock to learn and succeed and outside of school, I consistently dug deep to control and push limits through pursuing risky pursuits. When I couldn’t control everything in my day-to-day life, my response to fear was the one thing I learned to face. Or so I thought…
… For most of our lives, Anth and I were stereotypical competitive siblings doing our best to outdo one another in academics, sports, and hobbies. So, when 18-year-old Anth, grinning ear-to-ear and chest puffed out, showed up with a used motorcycle and dared me to ride with him on the new contraption, I couldn’t resist his challenge. I hopped on the back, heart racing and hands trembling, scared but thrilled to move through danger, and shouted, “Go slow!” He of course did not, and as we reached the end of our street, mere seconds later, I was completely and utterly terrified and surprised I survived. This time the fear did take control and discovered that sometimes the Forget Everything and Run method, works to preserve life! I promised that day, never to darken the seat of a motorcycle again!
Once I set my mind to something, there is no changing it. As years passed, my dedication to anti-motorcycling grew to include a lifelong ban of my first husband ever riding. My resolve deepened when my brother encountered the enemy of all motorcyclists – a reckless driver – losing his spleen and almost his life to a hit-and-run motorist, who had purposefully run him off the road and fled the scene. I remember thinking that day “Why on earth would anyone EVER ride a motorcycle”.
By 2014 (20 years later), I had achieved great success at controlling and effectively calculating risk through a career in Program Management and Strategy Execution in the Pharmaceutical Industry. Not quite a Doctor, but I still focus on helping not just asthmatics but all faced with illness. I also avoided everything to do with those ridiculously risky motorcycles.
I was happily driving full-speed down the highway of life, continuing to grow pride in everything being well and truly under control, reveling when my team commented, “Do you ever sleep?” I blissfully ignored all signs that this accelerated insanity was leading me to— a complete and utter breakdown of my marriage. As I approached my 40th year, I became a single parent in a foreign country and lost the job at the company I had bet it all on. I was truly and utterly lost in a world I thought I had learned to perfectly navigate!
There was no running this time. The thing I feared most had insidiously creeped out of nowhere and had to be faced! Armed with my big girl panties, I went forth into the world of divorce.
For those of you that have not faced divorce, it is agonizing! You are Russel Crowe facing Joaquin Phoenix in the final scene of Gladiator, you are bleeding, hardly able to breathe, facing up to the person across the arena, who just a few days ago was your family! You stand tall trying to forget about the seething wounds below your newly appointed armor and then they let the lions out! As I left the arena, I reached my 40th birthday. But instead of physical gifts, I was instead awarded something far more valuable. A deeper strength that knew I could face the most unsurmountable of fears and survive!! I didn’t design the limits I was willing to defy this time, but by digging deep I was still able to face them and overcome them. It was truly liberating. Armed with this new perspective, I was able to take on a small assignment from my former company. This helped me ease back onto the road to normalcy. The job was much less intensive but pushed me to face another fear I had tried to avoid through the years – technology.
My teammate, Jim whom I was assigned to ‘help’ was the complete opposite of me! At first blush, he loved everything technology and had a more quiet and reserved personality and appearance. He was quite abrupt and expressed grave concern when I didn’t know what a BRD (Business Requirements Document) was, especially since he needed my help to write one during the next few weeks. I felt like a duck out of water and so leaning back on this newfound courage, I “took the bull by the horns”, asked lots of questions, and did lots of research until I was somewhat competent. It worked, Jim was delighted by my passion for perfection and I learned another valuable life lesson, fear can be overcome with hard work, dedication, and practice! As our trust in each other grew, our relationship moved beyond the work, and we started to talk about our common threads – divorce, being a single parent, solving problems, adrenaline sports, perfectionism. Then he sent me a picture of his latest passion – a motorcycle! Screech to halt…what?! I unexpectedly had once again collided straight on with one of my greatest fears!
Feejer, the Yamaha FJR original photo sent by Jim
I keenly felt his deflation when I told him just how I felt about motorcycles and exactly why this opinion had been validated through the years. Although we hit a veritable bump in the road, we continued to weave a stronger relationship through more common routes. Eventually, our crossroads of friendship, mapped out by vulnerability and trust, flourished into romance.
As our relationship progressed, we shared stories of adventures and obstacles we had overcome. He began to know me better, understanding that often my lack of confidence in myself had prevented me from truly moving beyond my limitations.
Jim, sensing my growing openness to facing my fears, started sharing with me more stories of the fun and freedom he felt with motorcycling. It was definitely working and he eventually took the leap and asked me to join him on the back of his beloved Feejer, a Yamaha FJR motorcycle. After several days of near-around-the-clock negotiations and setting clear expectations, I finally agreed to risk a brief ride. And, once again my friend fear pulsed through my body as I lifted my leg to get on the back of his bike.
The deal was we would ride for only 20 minutes and, if at any time I got scared, all I had to do was tap his shoulder to signal “immediately stop and turn towards home” I vividly remember each minute of that ride: a glowing autumn day, fall scents wafting on the breeze, bird song serenading us, crisp chill on my skin, sunlight waning to shadows. During those 20 minutes, I experienced an inspired calm that I had never felt before. I encouraged him to extend our trip by a few minutes, and we even leaned our way around my first twisty curves. By the time we got home, and to both our surprise, I had agreed to a longer journey to his favorite destination, Bloomsburg, PA where we would grab a quick bite to eat over thoughtful conversation.
As the fall of 2015 ended, we had been on the bike several times, and I was completely and totally hooked. I loved the freedom from thoughts and worry by focusing on the present–being one with nature via smell, temperature changes, and a variety of almost musical sounds. I loved the feel of the road that led us to amazing experiences and a more authentic, open, and courageous relationship.
As our relationship progressed, we shared stories of adventures and obstacles we had overcome. He began to know me better, understanding that often my lack of confidence in myself had prevented me from truly moving beyond my limitations.
Jim, sensing my growing openness to facing my fears, started sharing with me more stories of the fun and freedom he felt with motorcycling. It was definitely working and he eventually took the leap and asked me to join him on the back of his beloved Feejer, a Yamaha FJR motorcycle. After several days of near-around-the-clock negotiations and setting clear expectations, I finally agreed to risk a brief ride. And, once again my friend fear pulsed through my body as I lifted my leg to get on the back of his bike.
The deal was we would ride for only 20 minutes and, if at any time I got scared, all I had to do was tap his shoulder to signal “immediately stop and turn towards home” I vividly remember each minute of that ride: a glowing autumn day, fall scents wafting on the breeze, bird song serenading us, crisp chill on my skin, sunlight waning to shadows. During those 20 minutes, I experienced an inspired calm that I had never felt before. I encouraged him to extend our trip by a few minutes, and we even leaned our way around my first twisty curves. By the time we got home, and to both our surprise, I had agreed to a longer journey to his favorite destination, Bloomsburg, PA where we would grab a quick bite to eat over thoughtful conversation.
As the fall of 2015 ended, we had been on the bike several times, and I was completely and totally hooked. I loved the freedom from thoughts and worry by focusing on the present–being one with nature via smell, temperature changes, and a variety of almost musical sounds. I loved the feel of the road that led us to amazing experiences and a more authentic, open, and courageous relationship.
Me returning from one of our first trips to Bloomsburg, PA on Feejer
By Spring the following year (2016), I wanted to try motorcycling for myself. I thought it would be a useful reserve skill, just in case we were in the middle of nowhere someday and I needed to be in front. Jim cautioned that it may not be for me and suggested that I sign up for a Motorcycle Safety Foundation class. He said that this was the fastest way for non-riders to become safe and somewhat skilled riders. Jim was right, because just two weeks after the conclusion of the class, I eagerly purchased my very own motorcycle, a Honda 500 CBR which I affectionately named Cybil (Cybil the CBR).
The first bike I ever rode on my own, at the MSF class in Delaware
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Cybil the Honda 500 CBR
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As I took Cybil out for her first run, I was transported back 20+ years to my teenage self, learning to drive, where all those newly learned skills, not yet committed to muscle memory, have to be laboriously thought through as cars and trucks come hurtling towards you at 60 mph. But worse yet, I was reminded of that first ride with Anth and his serious accident. Talk about my fear kicking in! Thinking back to how I overcame my fear of technology and with a wee sprinkle of that great old determination, I built my confidence and competence by practicing. During every spare moment and in the burning heat of Summer, I did figure 8’s and cone weaving in car parks. As my skills and comfort grew, Jim led me further afield, visiting backroads full of mountains and serious twists. After a mere 6 weeks, he was confident that I was ready for his advanced course, a seven-day motorcycle tour that included Skyline Drive (top speed 35mph and my first big mountains and curves), then the Blue-Ridge Parkway (top speed 55 mph, more mountains and curves), and, finally, the US motorcycling mecca of them all – Tail of the Dragon (318 curves and many switchbacks in just 11 miles!).
Jim’s previous experience as a Porsche Club driving instructor had shown him that confidence is grown through practice and the advanced course was designed to push my limits. If I could overcome this, I would have the skill to tackle anything!
They say everything comes in threes and there can be no ad-venture without a wee bit ad-versity! My first recognized limit was on 1-81 traveling to Front Royal. The highway runs through flat farmland and is gated on either side by mountains, this causes extreme wind to be pushed through the narrow valley, where the highway sits. Cybil, although impressive for a first bike, was very light and lacked power, so when faced with what felt like hurricane-force winds she was pushed left and right with little notice and struggled to push past the trucks all going 80 mph. Having never experienced this, I hung desperately onto Cybil’s handlebars, leaning at what felt like a forty-five-degree angle to counter-steer against the wind. Without cruise control, my right hand was consistently pushing full force on the throttle to pass the big and heavy trucks that were plentiful and caused even more turbulence for poor wee Cybil and me. By the time we stopped for lunch at Houlihans in Front Royal, I looked like I had come straight from the pages of 60’s Vogue, complete with beehive-like hair. I was in full-flight mode. My neck was killing me, my hands were almost frozen into claws as I had held onto the wavering Cybil with a death like grip, and I was absolutely exhausted. Over lunch, Jim listened calmly to my panicked voice as I requested to abandon all hope, and instead ride with him on the back. As others in the restaurant began to notice the increased tenor of my terror, he hoped that I would at least give Skyline Drive a try, especially since I had come through the worst part. He described the beauty of the roads, the sweeping curves, and a much lower speed, with significantly less buffeting. Unconvinced and skeptical, I reluctantly pushed on.
Jim was right, Skyline Drive was amazing. It was lined with trees, sweeping curves, and amazing views over the Shenandoah Valley, I could swear the air tasted sweeter there! We were there in September and so the leaves were just turning, and the temperatures were just perfect. An hour or so in, I remember pulling off at a lay-by and another motorcyclist came over to chat about our journey (something I would learn to love and appreciate). He was so impressed I had taken the challenge to ride my own bike and put time into practicing and building confidence. I moaned about how sore my neck, arms, and shoulders were, and although Jim had mentioned this to me several times before, the stranger’s next words are something I remember to this day. “You don’t need to hang on tight the handlebars to be the best motorcyclist, instead a lighter touch and a flow is what you are looking for!” I remember laughing in my head at this advice, how wonderful it is when the same synchronous message, hits you from all angles. He will never know that ‘letting go’, as the song goes, is something I had been focused on overcoming, in all parts of my life, for many years!
Having loved the serene, and thankfully smooth, beauty of Skyline Drive, my next limit came the following evening at the summit of a mountain on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The limit this time was my first ever rain (Jim still insists that it was a “mist”) and, to top it off, it was dark. Terrified and almost hyperventilating through my snot and tears, I beg Jim, almost unintelligibly through our Bluetooth helmet intercom, to stop so I could abandon Cybil in a lay-by. He point-blank refused, knowing that it was fear and not ability talking. I was forced again to face a fear, I am not all too happy about. I continued to sob and give him the full silent treatment, as I tried my hardest to navigate the slippery and curvy roads in the dark and rain. After what feels like a lifetime, by some miracle, we finally make it down to the bottom and as we do, Jim notices a layby we can pull over and regroup. As I completely freak out, he takes my hand and leads me to a forest, just off the road, and whispers in my ear “Look up”. As I did, there, through the branches of the trees, I saw the most beautiful starlight. As my breathing calmed, and my pulse slowed, I saw luminescent glow worms streaked across the sky. The trees, which I have always had a special bond with, provided a comforting hug around me. I was safe!
The culmination of the advanced course was my third and final limit – The Tail of the Dragon! We spent the morning putting Cybil and me through our final paces on the Cherohala Skyway. (If you’re a motorcyclist and have never ridden this road, drop everything now and ride immediately there!) At the start of the Dragon’s Tail, there’s a wee turn-off, just after the Fontana Dam and parking area. We paused here to reflect on the utter craziness of conquering the forthcoming course and the high likelihood of having to be airlifted out, with the remaining parts of our motorcycles unceremoniously strapped to the famous “Tree of Shame.” As you can imagine with a whole tree dedicated to it, accidents happen fairly often, Google ‘Tail of Dragon fails’. As we ready ourselves, another new female rider approached and we chatted about our journeys, Yay!” I think to myself, “I am not alone in my craziness!” I high-fived my kindred spirit goodbye, and took a gigantic deep breath, as I gave Jim a final shaky squeeze he said “Trust me you are ready!” With the focus and intensity of a Buddhist monk, I pull out of the lay-by, and in the quiet of my helmet listen to Jim over the intercom repeat “Set up for the curve, look where you want to go, hit the apex, track out!”.
As I rounded curve number 318 of 318, Deals Gap store and gas station came into focus and I realized that I had made it! I dismounted Cybil and high-fived every person in the car park on my way into the store. I bought every memento as if it were a trophy that would forever be displayed on my bike, body, neck, and head forever more. I had accomplished an amazing feat, one that I could not have imagined as a 20-year-old, scolding my brother for his crazy love of motorcycles. Jim was right, through defying my limits, my confidence was at an all-time high!
Jim’s previous experience as a Porsche Club driving instructor had shown him that confidence is grown through practice and the advanced course was designed to push my limits. If I could overcome this, I would have the skill to tackle anything!
They say everything comes in threes and there can be no ad-venture without a wee bit ad-versity! My first recognized limit was on 1-81 traveling to Front Royal. The highway runs through flat farmland and is gated on either side by mountains, this causes extreme wind to be pushed through the narrow valley, where the highway sits. Cybil, although impressive for a first bike, was very light and lacked power, so when faced with what felt like hurricane-force winds she was pushed left and right with little notice and struggled to push past the trucks all going 80 mph. Having never experienced this, I hung desperately onto Cybil’s handlebars, leaning at what felt like a forty-five-degree angle to counter-steer against the wind. Without cruise control, my right hand was consistently pushing full force on the throttle to pass the big and heavy trucks that were plentiful and caused even more turbulence for poor wee Cybil and me. By the time we stopped for lunch at Houlihans in Front Royal, I looked like I had come straight from the pages of 60’s Vogue, complete with beehive-like hair. I was in full-flight mode. My neck was killing me, my hands were almost frozen into claws as I had held onto the wavering Cybil with a death like grip, and I was absolutely exhausted. Over lunch, Jim listened calmly to my panicked voice as I requested to abandon all hope, and instead ride with him on the back. As others in the restaurant began to notice the increased tenor of my terror, he hoped that I would at least give Skyline Drive a try, especially since I had come through the worst part. He described the beauty of the roads, the sweeping curves, and a much lower speed, with significantly less buffeting. Unconvinced and skeptical, I reluctantly pushed on.
Jim was right, Skyline Drive was amazing. It was lined with trees, sweeping curves, and amazing views over the Shenandoah Valley, I could swear the air tasted sweeter there! We were there in September and so the leaves were just turning, and the temperatures were just perfect. An hour or so in, I remember pulling off at a lay-by and another motorcyclist came over to chat about our journey (something I would learn to love and appreciate). He was so impressed I had taken the challenge to ride my own bike and put time into practicing and building confidence. I moaned about how sore my neck, arms, and shoulders were, and although Jim had mentioned this to me several times before, the stranger’s next words are something I remember to this day. “You don’t need to hang on tight the handlebars to be the best motorcyclist, instead a lighter touch and a flow is what you are looking for!” I remember laughing in my head at this advice, how wonderful it is when the same synchronous message, hits you from all angles. He will never know that ‘letting go’, as the song goes, is something I had been focused on overcoming, in all parts of my life, for many years!
Having loved the serene, and thankfully smooth, beauty of Skyline Drive, my next limit came the following evening at the summit of a mountain on the Blue Ridge Parkway. The limit this time was my first ever rain (Jim still insists that it was a “mist”) and, to top it off, it was dark. Terrified and almost hyperventilating through my snot and tears, I beg Jim, almost unintelligibly through our Bluetooth helmet intercom, to stop so I could abandon Cybil in a lay-by. He point-blank refused, knowing that it was fear and not ability talking. I was forced again to face a fear, I am not all too happy about. I continued to sob and give him the full silent treatment, as I tried my hardest to navigate the slippery and curvy roads in the dark and rain. After what feels like a lifetime, by some miracle, we finally make it down to the bottom and as we do, Jim notices a layby we can pull over and regroup. As I completely freak out, he takes my hand and leads me to a forest, just off the road, and whispers in my ear “Look up”. As I did, there, through the branches of the trees, I saw the most beautiful starlight. As my breathing calmed, and my pulse slowed, I saw luminescent glow worms streaked across the sky. The trees, which I have always had a special bond with, provided a comforting hug around me. I was safe!
The culmination of the advanced course was my third and final limit – The Tail of the Dragon! We spent the morning putting Cybil and me through our final paces on the Cherohala Skyway. (If you’re a motorcyclist and have never ridden this road, drop everything now and ride immediately there!) At the start of the Dragon’s Tail, there’s a wee turn-off, just after the Fontana Dam and parking area. We paused here to reflect on the utter craziness of conquering the forthcoming course and the high likelihood of having to be airlifted out, with the remaining parts of our motorcycles unceremoniously strapped to the famous “Tree of Shame.” As you can imagine with a whole tree dedicated to it, accidents happen fairly often, Google ‘Tail of Dragon fails’. As we ready ourselves, another new female rider approached and we chatted about our journeys, Yay!” I think to myself, “I am not alone in my craziness!” I high-fived my kindred spirit goodbye, and took a gigantic deep breath, as I gave Jim a final shaky squeeze he said “Trust me you are ready!” With the focus and intensity of a Buddhist monk, I pull out of the lay-by, and in the quiet of my helmet listen to Jim over the intercom repeat “Set up for the curve, look where you want to go, hit the apex, track out!”.
As I rounded curve number 318 of 318, Deals Gap store and gas station came into focus and I realized that I had made it! I dismounted Cybil and high-fived every person in the car park on my way into the store. I bought every memento as if it were a trophy that would forever be displayed on my bike, body, neck, and head forever more. I had accomplished an amazing feat, one that I could not have imagined as a 20-year-old, scolding my brother for his crazy love of motorcycles. Jim was right, through defying my limits, my confidence was at an all-time high!
Me on Cybil, riding the Tail of the Dragon for the first time.
Love the live-action shot with the leaf in the foreground. Notice the absolute focus!
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Tree of Shame at Deals Gap. Look at that smile!! I was brimming with pride from the accomplishment of really overcoming my fear.
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Things just got better and better over the next few years. In 2017 after the buffeting on I-81 with Cybil, I traded my 500 cc’s for an 850 and bought Joy (named for the Joy I had grown to feel from riding), a BMW 850 GT, which had heated hand grips and a jack for a heated vest (pure bliss!).
Joy and I at one of our favorite stops, Sheetz, on the way to Hawk Mountain
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On the Cabot Trail in Nova Scotia with Joy, Feejer, and Jim
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After visiting many far-off places, including Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island, and Nova Scotia. We discovered that a fuel limitation required a bigger tank, so I bought the first-year BMW 1250 GSA in Fall 2019 and named her Georgia the GSA.
Buying Georgia, the GSA with Bob Lilley from Hermy’s BMW in Port Clinton, PA.
Our riding continued to expand my horizons, and as it did, we became more connected with a like-minded, and supportive community of riders. From chats at rest stops with strangers, online communities, YouTube channels, in-store events, group training, and rallies, I’ve built amazing and rewarding friendships. These bonds have also helped me build confidence by stretching my skills and overcoming my doubts.
Soon after buying Georgia, the COVID pandemic forced us to make the difficult decision to park our motorcycles until the highest risk had passed. By September of 2020, we felt comfortable venturing out again on our usual route to Bloomsburg, PA. With a new bike and minimal recent practice, I unexpectedly dropped Georgia while turning left at a busy junction. What shook me more than the pain of dropping Georgia was the thought of what might have happened if the oncoming driver had not stopped when I tipped over in their lane. Two weeks later, on that same route, I did it again! My old friend fear kicked in and convinced me that I could no longer turn left. Then, I lost my confidence in riding all together. How did I get back here?
By the time we got on the bike in May 2021, I was so frightened I couldn’t even ride her out of the driveway and turn left! When I tried to get on the bike, I would freeze. My body would shake convulsively and my heart would pound in my ears. I was unable to think, and my palms were so sweaty that I couldn’t even pull in the clutch and push on the throttle! I listened to podcasts on how to get back on a bike. I spoke to my therapist about anxiety and how to overcome it. I started meditation and breathing techniques. After considering a smaller bike, Jim and I agreed that I needed to rebuild my confidence again. We returned to the local car park, I had once frequented and Jim patiently coached me from the very beginning motorcycle skills to the more advanced skills I had once mastered. Finally, I felt confident enough to get back on the road. Could I overcome my fear once more?
My confidence and underlying skills did slowly return, and on this new journey of overcoming fear, I met an amazing person who would become one of my greatest mentors – a woman named Kimi. Kimi has been riding for 17 years now and can do amazing things with a motorcycle, not just on the road, but off-road too. She truly understood the emotions and anxiety I had experienced from a woman’s point of view and helped me build a reservoir of grit and determination and a love of motorcycling once more. Enough in fact, that I decided to try a beginner class in off-roading with Kimi and her husband, Bobby. Although the GSA is purpose-built for both long-haul touring and off-pavement adventure riding, I had never attempted to (purposely) take Georgia on anything more challenging than a short stretch of well-maintained gravel forest road. I loved the newly found confidence that this wee taste of off-roading gave me. So, when they both asked Jim and I to join them on a two-day off-road course with BMW Performance Center in Spartanburg, SC the next year, we jumped at the chance!
June 2022 was going to be EPIC: I was improving my confidence and skills in the whole new motorcycling discipline of off-roading, and I was headed to Europe where I would get to hug my parents again after 3 long years! I felt my fear was melting fast, and I was on fire with inspiration and happiness.
Excited to learn new skills and join a whole new community of riders exploring the world beyond the pavement on two wheels, we started the 2022 season in preparation mode. Both Jim and I worked hard to become as comfortable as we could with two-finger clutch and brake hovering and low-speed maneuvers, absolutely essential for off-roading! Feeling confident, we bound down to Spartanburg, SC, ready and eager to take on our next adventure.
Just a half hour into the training the instructors had me piloting the motorcycle standing up, with one foot on top of the seat, sitting sidesaddle, and even hanging off the side of the motorcycle with only one foot on the foot peg!! I finally felt that I could accomplish anything that I put my mind to. Three hours in, we headed to our first ride through the Enduro forest, and I amazed myself again as I maneuvered my beast around the tightest of corners and trees while standing up! I was truly in love with off-road motorcycling!
And then IT happened: I stalled the bike as I took a very sharp corner. Because I was so confident at this point, I truly believed I could get down from my new standing position and, in all the mud and roots, hold onto my bike and keep it upright. That split-second decision felt like a lifetime and, instead of dropping my bike gracefully, as I was taught, the bike fell on top of me, quickly trapping my left foot under the engine. The next few moments were a blur, but I turned off my engine and beeped my horn to signal for help. Seconds later our trainer appeared, rescuing my trapped boot and straightening up my bike. He encouraged me to get back on, as he knew how ecstatic I had been from the morning’s accomplishments. By this point, the pain was starting to peak and my foot was swelling rapidly. Through my tears I instead requested help, hoping against all hope that it was a bruise or twist and I would be back on again soon!
Soon after buying Georgia, the COVID pandemic forced us to make the difficult decision to park our motorcycles until the highest risk had passed. By September of 2020, we felt comfortable venturing out again on our usual route to Bloomsburg, PA. With a new bike and minimal recent practice, I unexpectedly dropped Georgia while turning left at a busy junction. What shook me more than the pain of dropping Georgia was the thought of what might have happened if the oncoming driver had not stopped when I tipped over in their lane. Two weeks later, on that same route, I did it again! My old friend fear kicked in and convinced me that I could no longer turn left. Then, I lost my confidence in riding all together. How did I get back here?
By the time we got on the bike in May 2021, I was so frightened I couldn’t even ride her out of the driveway and turn left! When I tried to get on the bike, I would freeze. My body would shake convulsively and my heart would pound in my ears. I was unable to think, and my palms were so sweaty that I couldn’t even pull in the clutch and push on the throttle! I listened to podcasts on how to get back on a bike. I spoke to my therapist about anxiety and how to overcome it. I started meditation and breathing techniques. After considering a smaller bike, Jim and I agreed that I needed to rebuild my confidence again. We returned to the local car park, I had once frequented and Jim patiently coached me from the very beginning motorcycle skills to the more advanced skills I had once mastered. Finally, I felt confident enough to get back on the road. Could I overcome my fear once more?
My confidence and underlying skills did slowly return, and on this new journey of overcoming fear, I met an amazing person who would become one of my greatest mentors – a woman named Kimi. Kimi has been riding for 17 years now and can do amazing things with a motorcycle, not just on the road, but off-road too. She truly understood the emotions and anxiety I had experienced from a woman’s point of view and helped me build a reservoir of grit and determination and a love of motorcycling once more. Enough in fact, that I decided to try a beginner class in off-roading with Kimi and her husband, Bobby. Although the GSA is purpose-built for both long-haul touring and off-pavement adventure riding, I had never attempted to (purposely) take Georgia on anything more challenging than a short stretch of well-maintained gravel forest road. I loved the newly found confidence that this wee taste of off-roading gave me. So, when they both asked Jim and I to join them on a two-day off-road course with BMW Performance Center in Spartanburg, SC the next year, we jumped at the chance!
June 2022 was going to be EPIC: I was improving my confidence and skills in the whole new motorcycling discipline of off-roading, and I was headed to Europe where I would get to hug my parents again after 3 long years! I felt my fear was melting fast, and I was on fire with inspiration and happiness.
Excited to learn new skills and join a whole new community of riders exploring the world beyond the pavement on two wheels, we started the 2022 season in preparation mode. Both Jim and I worked hard to become as comfortable as we could with two-finger clutch and brake hovering and low-speed maneuvers, absolutely essential for off-roading! Feeling confident, we bound down to Spartanburg, SC, ready and eager to take on our next adventure.
Just a half hour into the training the instructors had me piloting the motorcycle standing up, with one foot on top of the seat, sitting sidesaddle, and even hanging off the side of the motorcycle with only one foot on the foot peg!! I finally felt that I could accomplish anything that I put my mind to. Three hours in, we headed to our first ride through the Enduro forest, and I amazed myself again as I maneuvered my beast around the tightest of corners and trees while standing up! I was truly in love with off-road motorcycling!
And then IT happened: I stalled the bike as I took a very sharp corner. Because I was so confident at this point, I truly believed I could get down from my new standing position and, in all the mud and roots, hold onto my bike and keep it upright. That split-second decision felt like a lifetime and, instead of dropping my bike gracefully, as I was taught, the bike fell on top of me, quickly trapping my left foot under the engine. The next few moments were a blur, but I turned off my engine and beeped my horn to signal for help. Seconds later our trainer appeared, rescuing my trapped boot and straightening up my bike. He encouraged me to get back on, as he knew how ecstatic I had been from the morning’s accomplishments. By this point, the pain was starting to peak and my foot was swelling rapidly. Through my tears I instead requested help, hoping against all hope that it was a bruise or twist and I would be back on again soon!
Off-road class photo in Spartanburg, SC. I am on the far left.
After being rescued by a handsome fireman, transported by an ambulance to a beautiful hospital, and examined by a portable X-ray machine, my foot was confirmed to be broken. The emergency room staff splinted my foot, and sent me back to the training center to practice my new one-foot skills, this time supported by crutches!
A few days later, I showed up at my surgeon’s office in tears, willing him to let me go to the next part of our epic June, with a non-weight-bearing boot. It had been 3 long years since my daughter and I hugged my parents, and it would have been devastating to everyone if we had to cancel our forthcoming trip to Europe. He reluctantly agreed to the boot but warned me that my decision could result in the foot needing to be rebroken, surgically repaired, and rehabbed for 6 weeks upon my return. I summoned that good old courage again, took the gamble, and became a certified pirate with a peg leg for 6 weeks traveling through the hills and valleys of Scotland and Northern Italy.
Thankfully that gamble paid off, and I didn’t require a second surgery. But I did miss the entire 2022 riding season.
A few days later, I showed up at my surgeon’s office in tears, willing him to let me go to the next part of our epic June, with a non-weight-bearing boot. It had been 3 long years since my daughter and I hugged my parents, and it would have been devastating to everyone if we had to cancel our forthcoming trip to Europe. He reluctantly agreed to the boot but warned me that my decision could result in the foot needing to be rebroken, surgically repaired, and rehabbed for 6 weeks upon my return. I summoned that good old courage again, took the gamble, and became a certified pirate with a peg leg for 6 weeks traveling through the hills and valleys of Scotland and Northern Italy.
Thankfully that gamble paid off, and I didn’t require a second surgery. But I did miss the entire 2022 riding season.
Sporting my peg leg in Milan
Knowing how much just the thought of disaster happening had impacted me in 2020, Jim and my motorcycle friends were worried about my return. In January 2023, Bobby reached out and asked if we wanted to go on our first International tour of the Alps with his new company Motos-America. This amazing once-in-a-lifetime tour would start in Munich, spend 6 days surmounting real mountain passes, and end at BMW’s 100-year Motorrad celebration in Berlin. Having something to practice for would give me no excuses and so we signed up.
With limited time to achieve the required technical brilliance for our dream trip, Jim and I started the 2023 season with our advanced course trip back down to the Blue Ridge Parkway, where I was surprisingly challenged by curves, something I had grown to love. There was really no time to waste, so we continued to practice every weekend with new friends joining our gang (Rick, Dave C, Dave S, Scott) and providing much encouragement, advice, and assistance.
With limited time to achieve the required technical brilliance for our dream trip, Jim and I started the 2023 season with our advanced course trip back down to the Blue Ridge Parkway, where I was surprisingly challenged by curves, something I had grown to love. There was really no time to waste, so we continued to practice every weekend with new friends joining our gang (Rick, Dave C, Dave S, Scott) and providing much encouragement, advice, and assistance.
The new motorcycle crew, clockwise from the top middle: Dave S, Kimi, Jim, Rick, Scott, Bobby, Dave C & Me
By June 28th, as we took our assigned seats on the plane on the way to Munich, I felt ready and confident! I recited my new mantra: Confident, Positive, and Relaxed. I knew I could tackle and overcome my fear of this latest challenge without intense worry and understand with confidence I had the skills necessary to survive.
At the trip briefing, we met our new community for the week, and my heart sank, as I learned all the riders were men with at least 20 to 30 years of experience. As I tried to sleep that night, I felt my old friend fear sneaking into my thoughts: Can I do it? Will I take a wrong turn and fall off a mountain? Will everyone hate me as I hold them up? As I listened to our leads tell tales of all the dangers we were about to face and the technical brilliance we would need, I repeated my new mantra over and over: Confident, Positive, and Relaxed.
At the trip briefing, we met our new community for the week, and my heart sank, as I learned all the riders were men with at least 20 to 30 years of experience. As I tried to sleep that night, I felt my old friend fear sneaking into my thoughts: Can I do it? Will I take a wrong turn and fall off a mountain? Will everyone hate me as I hold them up? As I listened to our leads tell tales of all the dangers we were about to face and the technical brilliance we would need, I repeated my new mantra over and over: Confident, Positive, and Relaxed.
The Motos America Gang in Corvara Italy. Front: our fearless leader Axel Shneider. From Left: Brent, Melissa, Dave, Kris, Jim, Yvette, Me, Jim, Howard, Shauna, Brent, Steve, Rachel & Vance (CEO of Motos-America)
As everyone slept, my mind was on overdrive as I watched each minute tick by towards dawn. I arrived at our trip start bleary-eyed, dry-mouthed, and pulse racing. Using the smile technique (trying to convince my brain that yes, indeed, I am ready), I mounted my rented steed for the week, A BMW 1250 GS (slightly smaller and lighter than Georgia). I proudly named her Ginny (I did not name my bike in Spartanburg and knowing what happened there, all bikes are now christened with a name). We bonded immediately and the confidence and skills I had worked on for so many months took over my anxiety. I rode to the front of our band of 11 very experienced male riders, sailing across the passes and mountains, through the clouds and hail (yes we actually rode down the Gavia Pass in Italy in hail and yes it hurts!), enjoying every amazing and beautiful sight I could possibly imagine. Truly a dream come true!
Me up front in the Dolomites (No, this picture is not photo-shopped!)
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Ginny and I on the Stelvio Pass
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On the last night of our amazing trip, we all gathered for our final dinner. As I shared my story, I began to see clearly my road to courage. The control I had manufactured to create safety, was really just avoidance. Had I not faced my greatest fears, I would never have met Jim, never have learned technology, or enjoyed one of my most amazing joys- motorcycling. To know you have the inner strength to overcome your greatest fears inside you is the greatest gift of all…
Jim and I at the 100 Years of BMW Celebration in Berlin, Germany.
… the following week, I finally rode beside my brother, Anth, keeping pace as we weaved around the curves of our beautiful home country Scotland. With our sibling rivalry faded, he glanced at me through his visor with a heartwarming grin and tears filling his eyes, he knew that we now shared a bond and love that few are courageous enough to explore.
My brother Anth and I out and about on his Ducatis in Scotland.
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Hangin’ with Stelvio and Monster, the Ducatis in Scotland.
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Angela Dietrich is the principal and founder of Klarite Solutions, a boutique consulting firm that is focused on bringing Klarite and calm to the complex issues that face the pharmaceutical and life sciences industries. Courage is one of the 3 C Values that drive her ambitions both on and off-road. Visit klaritesolutions.com to learn more about how she can help apply her courage to help your business in life sciences excel!