On love, motorcycles and the art of being a passenger

Six months after I met the man who would become my second husband – after 25 years spent as what I used to call “a solo operator” – he announced that he was signing up for motorcycle school. Jim was about to celebrate his 60th birthday , and although he had loved driving cars all his life and handled his 15-year-old Porsche Boxster like a pro, riding a motorcycle would be a new skill.

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