I never realized just how much motorcycling would make me a better grandmother. First I “TCLOCKED” the event. Not Tires, Controls, Lights, Chassis and Kickstand but Time, Clever snacks, Legos, Old clothes, Child seats and Keys to their mother’s minivan.

At the playground I found myself constantly scanning for hazards. My eye work was great for picking the best line to the 2-year-old and skirting the kicked-up gravel thrown by the nearly 4-year-old. I never looked down. I waved at nannies and other grandmothers who passed; wiped off the wet seats and swung bottoms onto them anyway. We were there to play, regardless of the rain. We refueled often, high octane gummies and granola bars and stayed hydrated with 100% juice… I have an app to find it.

And of course we wore the right gear…