When we planned our first motorcycle trip together as 2 riders rather than a rider and pillion, we were ignoring one vital detail. On the one hand we had traveled together before through South America and an Eastern European trip, so we knew we were on the low end of the likelihood to kill each other.
Side Note: If you think this is us being melodramatic then you absolutely must do a trail run before committing to long term travel with anyone, let alone your romantic partner. Go on a long weekend trip first, if you both come out with all your limbs and you still like each other, try a longer trip! If one of you is missing vital organs due to lack of shower/fire/food/wild animal that you fed your travel partner to rather than listen to them whine over the lack of fire/smoke from fire/the cold/the dampness/lack of available supplies to maintain sex appeal/or just because of their unwillingness to maintain sex appeal while camping, then you might want to reconsider your travel plans.
So we knew that so long as Sherrie had something to eat everyone in the vicinity would get to keep their eyeballs and the hateful comments would be kept to a minimum. (Hence our emergency chocolate stash, for those times when you are in the middle of nowhere and nothing is to be found or when it is closed).
We had two motorcycles, two riders, experience traveling together, everything more or less, except one vital detail, Sherrie’s drivers license.
And so began the hellish experience of the German motorcycle license, with the additional pressure that if I failed, our trip was delayed by 2 weeks.
And THAT hopefully explains the shrieking like a banshee.
Or it could just be genetic….