I recently enrolled in the California Motorcyclist Safety Program (CMSP), a three-day motorcycle training program. Two weeks ago, I attended the first part of the course, a classroom training that covered motorcycle basics in an intensive five hours of videos and “group work” that culminated in a fifty-point test.

The skills training was last weekend. On Saturday and Sunday, I was to report to training at 11:30 a.m. sharp, rain or shine, to learn how to ride a 250cc motorcycle. Let me put this into perspective. I have ridden my Vespa, which is a 50cc , “twist-and-go” scooter, meaning I only have to twist the throttle toward me to get moving. And I have been a passenger on a motorcycle.

But I have never ridden a motorcycle.

I had hoped to wrangle a friend into taking the class with me, to no avail. It would turn out that this didn’t make a difference. Because unlike learning to drive a car, I would have no one in the passenger seat with me. On a motorcycle, I would be all alone.

Motorcycles have a manual transmission, and although I drive a stick-shift car, everything is in a different place and a car doesn’t require its operator to BALANCE it. On a motorcycle, the right hand controls the throttle (gas) and the front brake. The right foot controls the rear brake. The left hand controls the clutch. And the left foot does the shifting. Oh my.

Now.  Once I got all this straightened out (sort of), it was time to learn some skills. Going fast on a straightaway is not the tricky part of learning to ride. Maintaining control and balance while going slowly is the true test of skill. On the first day, we learned such skills as how to navigate U-turns, how to do quick stops, how to corner, and how to swerve around cones. It wasn’t easy, and danger was omnipresent. Someone in the early morning session had flipped their bike, and a girl in our group dropped her bike (on top of her). By the end of the day, I had a headache beyond compare.

I had conflicting feelings about the second day. Unlike the first day, I actually had some experience riding (I didn’t even know how to START the motorcycle on Saturday, much less make it move). But the second day culminated in an evaluation test. If I didn’t pass it, I would have to take the class again. And that thought alone was enough to have me clenching my teeth.

One of the instructors really helped me get through it. He was strict but kind. He knew I was nervous as all hell, and worked me through it. When it came time for the evaluation test, I was inches away from a panic attack. But something inside me took over, vowing that I would do the best I could.

And I passed. Just barely. But I passed.

It was quite honestly one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.