Part OneFor ten years I had dutifully ridden behind my husband on his Harley. God what a noisy machine! I like quiet. My helmet broke some of the potato-potato-potato noise, thank god, and for a long time I wore earplugs underneath; that helped a lot. Then my great aunt died and left me with some money. Not a huge amount, but enough that I felt like I could splurge on a motorcycle of my own.  I got a Honda Gold Wing. It i...