My wife and I race motorcycles, which is how we met. (She's a 2-time New England women's champ.) We got married on our bikes in the woods surrounding our house, racing to the altar from either side around our (startled) guests. That morning she'd just given me her wedding gift: a new Italian Beta racing machine, because she didn't think it was right that her bike was so much better than the old Yamaha I was holding together with duct tape and prayers. So this is our official wedding picture, taken right after the ceremony. She's holding up the grease stain on the hem of her dress, which got caught in the chain when she dropped the clutch and it almost threw her over the bars. Right after this she took that number plate off and threw it backwards to the gathered single ladies instead of a bouquet, and attached her new plate with her married name to the bike. We then left to honeymoon at a racing bed-and-breakfast in TN. This lady likes to ride.
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