Before we put our helmets on, he said: "I've been doing this since I was eighteen, so don't be scared. And don't hold on too tight."
Don't be scared? I'm a natural-born scaredy cat. Have been as long as I can remember. In fact, my sister made me take an animal personality test and I came up as a cottontail. A cottontail's instinct is to run at the first sign of danger and, here I was, about to zoom up the Pacific Coast Highway on the back of a Ducati with a speed demon.
Off we went, zig-zagging through cars and up the curvy, winding pavement of the mountains. With every vroom, my heart leapt–not with fear, but with a sense of thrill! My arms were loosely wrapped around his body like a backpack, moving along with every sway and turn. Every so often, he'd give my leg a reassuring pat.
I was surprised at myself. Not once did I squeeze him tight or freak out. Boy, when you can trust someone, like, literally trust them with you life, it feels so, so liberating. After a six-hour, death-defying journey, we made it back to Venice Beach in one piece. Taking off my helmet, I asked earnestly: "Can we do it again sometime?"