A girl on a motorcycle drove down a divided highway, carefully weaving in and out of slowing traffic. The motorcycle was black with wide tires and unmarked, no brand name visible.
Her helmet was black, with a visor that she pushed up at a stoplight. On top of her helmet was a row of pink triangles, running in a center ridge from the front all the way down the back. She wore a tight pink, cotton, sleeveless shirt and tight black pants. Her bare arms were darkly tanned and she had a large, elaborately curled tattoo draped on her left shoulder and upper arm.
When the light turned green, she took off, and was seen ahead in the distance, turning into the left of the two northbound lanes. Later she was seen to turn left again, this time into a street next to the entrance of a medical clinic behind a wall, and vanish.
She was quite the sight with that row of pink triangles on top of her helmet, as though she was some kind of reptile. The triangles were probably attached by an adhesive strip. Stand-up decals that attach in strips were sold online, but not in that shape or color.
You would expect to see her in southern California, but not in this neighboring state, known to be rather conservative and unimaginative. Who was she? Was she a visitor or newly transplanted to the area? Where was she from? Where was she going in that up-scale residential neighborhood behind the clinic? Some drivers who noticed had questions.
Four years later, she was seen again, in mid spring, in the same area. So she could be a local, with an artistic bent, who motorcycles occasionally.
This time she wore a sleeved dark jacket and rode a motorcycle of the same description. Her helmet was white, but mostly overlain with a horizontal pattern of vividly colored images. The design was contemporary – at a quick glance perhaps a series of overlapping people in profile. That helmet was far more unique and colorful than anything else on the road that hour.