Getting my motorcycle license started just before the summer of 2020. The novel corona virus pandemic had been going on since March, and in a deadly cocktail of boredom and spontaneity, I decided that I’d wanna drive a motorcycle across a continent.
My buddy Fred had just gotten his motorcycle, a Yamaha XT600 from ‘96, so the bike was as old as I was. It was a beautiful bike, and I decided that I also wanted to ride 2 wheels.
Fred was entranced by the bikes themselves. I was captured by the thoughts of touring, adventure, and the connection with the world that bikes offer as you traverse an open and winding terrain.
Luckily for me, Fred was also excited about my newfound interest, so he was a huge help in getting things going. We decided that we’d get a bike and start practicing (illegally) ourselves to save money. I scoped out a Yamaha YBR-125 being sold by a stereotypical MC dad. A busride to Norrtälje and some awkward haggling later and it was ours.
Fred drove it back to my place, and a couple of joyrides in, I quickly realised that the peewee bike was good enough to start, but really wasn’t gonna cut it to learn how to ride properly. So I sold the bike (for a profit mind you!) and went back to the drawing board. Another MC dad and busride later, and I was the proud owner of a ‘98 BMW F650.
We spent the rest of the summer joyriding and practicing in empty parking lots in the evenings. In paralell with jumping through the hoops of mandatory theory and risk tests for the Swedish Transport Administration, Fred was guiding me through the maneuvers required for the driving test. It was grueling at times, creeping through the slow speed course and then waving wildly through the high speed maneuvers. But by the end of the summer, I felt ready to take the driving test.
Then my bike suddenly started acting up.
I had to sell the bike to avoid having the weight of a broken bike on my shoulders and cancel my driving test. In hindsight, it was a blessing in disguise, as I wasn’t at all ready for the traffic part of the test. At the time however, I was devastated.
Fast-forward to early summer 2021. The tests I had finished the last year were only valid for a year, so I was racing to get a driving test time before the end of June. When I did finally get a time (through an MC school) and showed up for the test, ready as ever, the inspector informed me that a minor error in their system meant I wasn’t allowed to take the test. I told him that I only had a few weeks before my other tests became invalid, I’m here now and I’ve got a bike, just let me show you I know how to handle it. He couldn’t do anything, so I walked away without a license and 1 test fee poorer.
I really didn’t think I’d get the license at this point, and with the lack of driving test times due to COVID, I was ready to throw in my gloves. Miraculously, the school managed to get a time just a week later, which would certainly be my last chance before my tests expired a week after.
I showed up to the test, much more nervous this time, and it didn’t help that the guy who went before me failed almost instantly. But all the practicing I’d done up until then sat deeply in my bones. It wasn’t flawless, but I progressed through the sections and finally the inspector told me I passed. With a gesture of a handshake (one has to adapt congratulations during a time of social distancing) and some typing on an iPad, it was all over.
I was proud, but more than anything I was just relieved. The whole experience had started off as a lockdown identity crisis, and now it was finishing as a young dude who was honestly just too stubborn to NOT get the license as this point. A weight lifted off my shoulders.
I don’t know how much motorcycle riding I’ll be doing in the near future, but I’ve been dreaming of a bike trip down to Africa, and this license brings me one step closer to it.