The idea of carrying a motorcycle passenger is about as romantic as it gets. Someone you love holding you tight as the two of you speed off into the sunset, wind in your faces and each other’s voices in your helmet comms. The reality of carrying a pillion, however, is a lot more stressful — yet so incredibly worth it.
Last week, I carried my first-ever motorcycle passenger. It was a quick trip through Brooklyn, dropping a woman I love off at her place after a date. She’d never been on a motorcycle, and I’d never carried a passenger, which meant we got all the romance of sharing a first. You see the appeal here.
Of course, this also meant that my first time carrying a passenger would mean ferrying someone who had no concept of the way a bike responds to shifting weight. Add my hulking, top-heavy adventure bike into the mix, and you start to see where the stress came from. My GS with its 34.5-inch seat height is tippy at the best of stops, and now I’d have someone on the back who might move unexpectedly, and whose weight was perched even higher on the bike than mine.
Yet, the romance of the idea was enough to push me through that anxiety, and get me to the point where we both sat geared-up on the bike and ready to go. Setting off with your first passenger is a lot like setting off for the first time at the MSF, all wobbly and teeter-tottering like a drunk toddler. Two drunk toddlers, I guess, in this case. Maybe stacked in a trench coat. Maybe that’s how they got drunk in the first place.
All my smooth left-foot-down red lights suddenly became unsteady two-foot-down stops, using both legs to brace the bike against the (admittedly very cute) happy swaying coming from the rear seat. We took corners at a snail’s pace, reducing lean angle anywhere possible to add stability. I think we hit the speed limit once.
But, as always, with time came comfort. The constant anxiety of don’t drop the bike don’t drop the bike don’t drop the bike faded, replaced with the romance that fueled the idea in the first place — the shared wind in our faces, the comfort of being held close atop the humming engine, the ability to actually find a spot to park at her place for once. Carrying a pillion is scary, absolutely, but it’s so worth it once you do. Just, if you can, maybe start on a bike that’s a little lower to the ground.