Showing posts with label riding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label riding. Show all posts

Saturday 19 November 2016

Riding on ice is hard

It dawned a cool, foggy morning on Thursday.  If it's hard to take a photo of it I get particularly interested in trying to do it, and foggy, early morning weather is particularly difficult to photograph.  

I hustled out of the house to find the moist air particularly cold.  When I got to the end of the street I turned right instead of left, thinking that riding down the dirt back roads to work would yield some exceptional photo ops, it did:


Frost on the grass and the ice forming on my visor suggested that this was more than just fog.  After the photo stop I proceeded up the road very cautiously having to constantly wipe the icy condensation off my visor.  Unfortunately, no one else had decided to take the back way that morning and the fog was slowly condensing onto the road as well.  I approached the stop sign to a paved cross road very cautiously but the moment I applied the brakes both wheels locked up.  

If you've ever locked up both wheels on a motorcycle you know how quickly things can go pear shaped.  The Tiger started to skittle and my heart rate went through the roof.  Reflexively, I got off the front brake immediately and was able to keep the bike upright (barely).  Since the rear brake was the only thing stopping me at all I had to keep my foot in it.  The back wheel was locking up pretty much every time I touched the pedal, but I kept at it.  I hadn't been going that quickly but when your coefficient of drag is zero you aren't shaving off much speed.

By this point the white line is coming up quick.  I'm auto-locking the rear brake but I'm not going to stop in time.  I get back on the front brake and it grips this time and I stop right on the line.  A woman thumping down the road at 20 over the limit (in thick ice fog) suddenly bursts out of the white to my left and leans on the horn as she flies by inches in front of my front wheel.  It's nice to know that my hands are what saved me and not her considerate driving.


Once on well used pavement it was pretty stable.  I got myself the rest of the way into work without any problems other than having to constantly wipe the ice forming off my visor.  Sometimes being a photographer is a dangerous business.  At least I've got quick reflexes and don't panic when things literally go sideways.

Wednesday 28 September 2016

All Else Is Washed Away

I'm feeling listless and under
the weather, I know what'll
cheer me up...
A rough week at work discovering just how untrustworthy people can be had gotten me down.  On top of that (or perhaps because of it), I was fighting an imminent cold.  If you're reading this then you probably already know it's better in the wind, so I went looking for some.

I was originally thinking of pushing up to Beaver Valley, but it's a long slog across tedious Southwestern Ontario to get to any good bits, I wanted to get to twisty roads sooner.  The most direct route to the Niagara escarpment, one of the few places not tediously flat around here, is through Orangeville.

I fired the Tiger up and aimed it north east.  The air was cool, in the high teens Celsius, and the traffic light.  I dispatched appliance coloured (and shaped) minivans as I came upon them and quickly made my way over to The Escarpment.

Bypassing Orangeville, I rode past what must have been a forty pound beaver lying in the middle of the road.  This thing was big enough to knock someone off a bike or damage the underside of a car, but the Orangeville police officer fifty yards up the road running a a radar trap was more interested in revenue streams than road safety.  Stay classy Orangeville popo.


The only way to make a sign like that better is to
make the number on it bigger!
Hockley Road seldom has you up on the crown of your tire.  I was alone going east but was passed by several groups of bikes coming the other way from the GTA.  After the never ending flatness it was nice to drop down into the valley and lean.  Leaning on a motorbike is as close as you'll ever come to flying.  It feels more like flying than flying does.

When I'm riding all of the negative things my mind impulsively chews away on are washed away in the wind.  It's partly to do with the complexity of piloting a motorcycle.  You're deeply involved in the progress of the machine; hands, feet and whole body balance, so your mind is focused away from those nagging thoughts.  It's also partly to do with the sensory flow you experience.  The wind, the smell, the temperature, the sound and sights are powerful as they accelerate around you.  You are busy, involved, and the world demands to be experienced when you ride a motorbike.


Home made turkey pot pie
warmed me up.
After sixty plus kilometres of twisty roads I was ready for a break.  My hands were actually getting cold since I'd been spending my time weaving through shady, leafy green valleys.  Coming back down River Road, I stopped at the Terra Nova Public House for lunch.  It isn't cheap, but the food is locally sourced and well prepared.  Sitting in the sun on the patio watching the bikes go by is a nice way to spend an hour on a sunny Sunday afternoon.

With some hot food inside me, I was ready to leave these lovely roads and begin the long ride back into the agricultural desert in which I live.  I took my time heading toward Horning's Mills (where I once thought of buying a house), getting the corners right that I hadn't on the way in.  There is one particularly twisty section that has a decreasing radius corner that catches you out if you come in too hot.  On the way in I'd overcooked it and had to brake, on the way out it was a smooth, throttle only proposition.

There are a couple of more big sweepers passing north over Shelbourne on 17 through the wind mill fields, but after that things get pretty straight.  By this point I was loose and feelin' good.  On the straights I found curves in the form of mobile chicanes, and passed them.  It felt like I was in a time machine, I was home almost before I left.  Motorcycles can make even straight roads exciting if you approach them with gusto.

Once back the cold closed in and the nagging doubts returned.  If I could ride a bike forever, I'd always get to sit in that meditative saddle.  When I watch around the world trips on the TV I think the best part would be getting to be out in the wind every day, always seeing something different, having the world wash over you.  No wonder Ted Simon and others come back from their trips hearing the sound of one hand clapping.



Some spontaneous art from the ride...






Tuesday 24 May 2016

That Moment When You Realize The Difference Between Road Tires & Multi-purpose Tires

I went out for a blast on Saturday of the long weekend.  It wasn't a long ride, just up and down the few windy roads near where I live that follow the Grand River before heading home for an oil change.

The Tiger was frisky and I was enjoying exploring its limits.  After a run up and down the north shore I crossed the river on a road I don't usually take.  Coming up the south river bank hill, I think I'm still a few hundred yards from the stop sign when I finally pick it out of the growth on the side of the road and realize it's only about forty yards ahead of me; I'm doing 80km/hr and the Tiger doesn't stop that quickly from 80km/hr.

Ahead on the right you can see the stop sign, but this spring it's in long grass and the trees have filled out around it.

Between smaller tires in general and a curved profile to
manage cornering on half as many contact patches,
motorcycle tires do an amazingly good job.
Motorcycle tires do an astonishing job of gripping the pavement with barely any contact patch.  I've had to dig deep into braking at various times and have always come away surprised at how well they grip with so little contact to the pavement.  Of course, I've only ever ridden road bikes with road biased tires until this spring (the KLX doesn't count, I barely road it and besides, those big, knobby tires slapping on the pavement were a constant reminder that it wasn't a road bike).

Finding myself astride an athletic Tiger coming in too hot to a stop sign with through traffic doing the better part of 100km/hr had me realizing I'm in a bit of bother.  You can feel remarkably naked on a motorcycle in that moment.  If I can't stop in time I'll end up in the intersection, possibly side swiped by a two ton box.

As the adrenaline begins to course through me I'm happy to note that my right foot is already deep into the rear brake and my right hand is squeezing the front brake hard.  Meanwhile my clutch hand has me in neutral already.  The rear has locked up and is snaking about back there.  I've never had a rear lock up that quickly before.  The bike is shedding heaps of momentum but I'm not going to stop in time.  I go deeper into the front brake where all the bike's weight is concentrated and it starts to skittle as it too locks up.  You can slide down the street in a car all day, but staying vertical on a bike with two locked wheels seldom happens.  All of this is flashing through my mind while my body is doing its own thing, I'm not consciously doing anything at this point.  My foot remains locked on the rear brake, but to my surprise my hand immediately eases off and reapplies brake over and over whenever the front starts to wobble; I didn't know it would do that.  Even with all that adrenaline I'm happy to learn that I didn't freeze up or lock up and drop the bike; I'm glad I have smart hands and feet.  Maybe all that reading about motorcycle dynamics has paid off.


The big Tiger is crouched down on its long front suspension, trying to shed all that forward momentum into the ground.  I would have stopped already on the Ninja with its sticky Avon road tires and hard suspension, but this isn't a purpose built road bike with pavement biased tires, it's a tall trail bike with multipurpose tires - tires that are evidently very easy to lock up, though I didn't know that until now.


These are wicked all rounders - they handle the road well
and are magical on loose stuff, but there is compromise in that
I've shed the majority of my velocity but I'm still not going to stop in time.  Things have slowed enough, and my hands and feet seem to know what they're doing without me telling them, so I glance up and down the road as I near the intersection; it's all clear in both directions.  I immediately release the brakes and roll over the painted white line marking where to stop - impending lock up on that wouldn't have gone well.  I glide through the intersection, release the clutch and continue down the country road in front of me in too high a gear.

"Get your head on straight!" I say to myself as I gear down and move off down the road.  You don't miss stop signs until it's too late on a motorcycle, especially when you're going to be entering a through way with high speed traffic.  Getting t-boned in a car there would probably have been fatal, getting t-boned on a bike would have been a certainty.

There are two take aways from this little incident.  Firstly, pay better attention and approach unfamiliar, overgrown intersections in a more circumspect manner.  The Tiger's big triple gets you going quickly so easily that it's easy to forget how fast you're moving - keep that in mind too.  Secondly, those Metzelers may feel fantastic on gravel and loose dirt (and they do, the bike is astonishingly stable), but they aren't grippy like road tires and they'll lock up early on you in an emergency.

I was remarkably calm afterwards and enjoyed the rest of the ride.  Even during the emergency braking and immediately after I didn't get the shakes or anything like that.  This turned into a good learning opportunity about a few key items.  I now know how I handle emergency braking (better than I could have hoped), and I've learned the dynamic limitations of multipurpose tires, all with no penalty.

If it happens again I might give myself a smack in the head, but it won't.

A picture perfect day for a ride along the Grand River...


Back home and all cleaned up - that engine will get you going faster than you think you are, and the bike's athleticism
will encourage you to push it, but those tires aren't up to 10/10ths road riding, so keep that in mind ya big git.


Saturday 12 September 2015

Why Do You Like Bikes So Much?

Part of the pleasure is in the simplicity of the experience.
It's analogue, immediate and visceral, yet still mentally
stimulating, meditative even! Mark Webber knows.
Asked by a grade 9 this week upon seeing my wall of motorbike photos ranging from Coventry Eagles to Kawasaki H2s.  My answer:

"Bikes are faster than cars in every way that matters.  They cost a fraction as much, insurance is less, they barely use any gasoline and when you go around a corner you feel like you're flying."  The kid nodded and then said, "I'm gonna get a bike."

Beyond all of those excellent reasons there is also the involvement.  Cars have you sitting in a box, watching the world go by from behind a screen.  On a bike you're out in the world.  You see more, smell more, hear more, feel more, and you're expected to do more.  When you ride you're using both hands, both feet and your entire body to interact with the machine.

In a car you spin a wheel and it goes around a corner.  On a bike you counter-steer out of the turn to drop the bike toward the corner and then lean into it.  Once you get the hang of it, it feels like dancing.  The first time they had us weaving through cones at the introduction motorcycle course I said to the instructor, "I could do this all day!"  Bike acceleration is astonishing, but the cornering is magical.  If you want proof, find any twisty road on a sunny summer day and see how many bikes you see.


Bike cornering is magical.
In the hands of a genius it's ballet.

I've driven some pretty involving cars.  The best get you about 40% of the way to what a bike feels like, and I'm comparing sports cars that cost as much as a house to regular road bikes - I've never ridden a supersport or track bike.


There are lots of other reasons why you should ride a bike (the camaraderie and sense of belonging to a group that recognizes their own, the exercise it provides, the ability to go places a car couldn't, the rich history, the technological know-how), and only one reason why you shouldn't.  Yes, riding a motorcycle is dangerous (mainly because of all the people in boxes), and it demands attention and skill, but the benefits are epic.




Tuesday 16 June 2015

Perfect Moments

Lexus has this ad about being in the perfect moment:


Other than the narrative (I find that I'm lost in moments like this, not narrating them in my head), I like the idea. I was editing footage from riding last week and had trouble finding a frame where I didn't have a perfect moment look on my face:


Even pausing during the high speed sections of that video shows a series of very content micro-expressions.  You might find a perfect moment once in every blue moon in your Lexus, but I find them almost constantly when out on the bike.  I'm starting to get the idea behind the 'you never see a bike in a therapist's parking lot' saying.

The real question is: what is it about riding a motorcycle that causes this kind of continuous immersion in the perfect moment? (redundant perhaps, every moment is perfect isn't it?)

When I ride well I find myself immersed in what I'm doing I lose myself in it.  It's only when conscious thought arises that my corners aren't carved perfectly and my gears are wrong.  Some of this has to do with the fact that I'm still relatively new to motorbiking and very conscious of improving my process, but the majority has to do with the immersive nature of riding a motorcycle.

I even look happy parking the bike at work!
Being in the wind means you are enveloped by the world you're passing through.  Your senses are alive to sounds, smells and the panorama around you.  You aren't seeing the world through a letterbox wind shield and smelling recirculated A/C.  The sensual nature of riding, the wind tugging at your clothes, the sun on your back, goes a long way to making you the ride rather than you doing a ride.

If the sensual side of it isn't enough (and it's often overwhelming, ask any biker who has felt the temperature drop and smelt the ozone as they've ridden into a thunderstorm), there is always the mechanical intimacy of riding a motorcycle to make you forget concious thought and become one with the moment.

Unlike the hand on the wheel, one foot on the gas approach to driving, the motorcyclist is changing gears with their left toe, rear braking with their right, operating the clutch and indicators (and sometimes horn, lights and choke) with their left hand and twisting the throttle and applying the front brakes with the right.  On top of that they are using both arms to counter-steer into corners and their whole bodies to manage those turns.  Motorcycling is a viable and complex form of exercise for both the mind and body.

So what we have here is a mode of transport that is physically taxing, mentally demanding and sensual.  On top of all that, if you do it badly it can very quickly become fatal.  You very quickly want to be able to fall into the zone when riding.  Peak performance and awareness it fosters isn't nice to have but a necessity when operating a motorbike.  Fortunately, getting to that state is fantastically rewarding.  There are a lot of ways to get there but seat time seems to be the magic ingredient.

In a cruel twist, this morning I got the bike out for the short commute to work.  The rain had stopped and the smell of water soaked plants filled the humid air, but my up-until-now bullet proof old Concours wouldn't start, it had a dead battery!  Maybe I left the ignition on?  Maybe some water got into things?  Maybe something broke?  Suddenly that string of contented moments I was looking forward to became a morose push back into the garage after changing out of my gear.  My commute turned from fifteen minutes of bliss to the tedium of driving.  The bike is a wonderful form of therapy, except for when it doesn't work.

Wednesday 13 May 2015

Living On The Concours

It doesn't happen often, I'm usually the one taking the photos.
A student of mine saw me riding in to school from her school bus.
I've been riding the Concours for over a month now.  It came to me with a broken speedo reading 25073 miles.  Today it's 25784 on it - 711 miles so far.  With some commuting and longer trips in the mix I'm starting to get a good sense of what the bike is capable of.

My most recent refill took me 175 miles and took just over 20 litres to refill (pardon my half imperial/half metric measurements).  It looks like I'm getting about 41mpg out of it, which is quite a surprise considering how often I push the RPMs up (it just sounds so good doing it).  I've been told you can get up near 50mpg if you don't wring its neck, which should be doable if I'm on a longer road trip, especially if I'm covering miles at speed on the highway, which I never normally do.

The only time I pushed too hard was winding on the throttle when entering a main road a couple of weeks ago.  Being so torquey, the Connie broke loose on the back wheel when I rolled on the thottle.  I caught it in time but it was exciting!  Hooking up the bike and keeping it upright was surprisingly easy, this Kawasaki is remarkably responsive for how big it is.  Easing off the throttle and letting the tire reconnect was enough to get me straightened out and launched up the road right quick.  Other than that one bit of excitement the Concours has been an easy bike to live with.  It handles two up duty well, swallows the horrible roads around here with much better suspension than the Ninja had, and the engine has only gotten sweeter as I've started using it regularly.

With the Connie sorted I've been working on the rider too.  I started working on my weight in February when I was shocked to learn I was over two hundred and sixty pounds.  Most recently I was down to 248lbs, which is a 14lb drop, which isn't bad considering I'm exercising regularly and have put on some muscle as well.  I'm aiming for under 240, but I'm going to keep up the exercise and eating choices and just see where it lands me.  The goal is still to eventually head off to racing school and not look like a tool in one piece leathers.

Friday 5 September 2014

Perfect Moments

Riding a motorcycle feels special every time I do it, but I had a couple of perfect zen moments on Wednesday that approached nirvana.  After dropping off my son at day care I was trundling down an empty country road in a golden, early morning fog on my way to work.  

You feel more connected to the world around you on a motorcycle because you're vulnerable and exposed to it, and in that moment the beauty of creation came flooding in.  Unimpeded by windshields or closed off in a box, the sights, smells and sounds of the world filled me with happiness.  The machine and I were a single thing, gliding through the golden morning mist.

I got to work with a smile on my face that wouldn't go away.

Later the same day I was riding home from a meeting after dark.  The half moon was so bright it lit the few scudding clouds in the sky, the rest was a dome of stars.  

Riding through the dark countryside I would drop down into pools of ground fog, my head just above the silver mist.

If you're on two wheels you feel like you're flying most of the time, but as I tore through that ground fog I felt like I was was truly learning to fly.

From the golden fog of sunrise to the moonlit night, it was a beautiful day to be out in the world, and my motorbike delivered it to me as only two wheels can.


Night Ninja
beneath a darkened sky
skimming through the dark
under a dome of stars

Thursday 30 May 2013

Appliances & Commitment

Car companies use special effects to show what
 their cars can't do.  This only underlines the
absurdity of it all
I'm having trouble enjoying car ads.  I've always loved cars since I was a kid, but when I'm watching ads that show driving a car on the road as some kind of noble physical pursuit I'm finding them impossible to take seriously.  When you factor in the increasing use of special effects to show what the car being sold can't do, it only serves to underline how absurd it is to market the idea of car as a physical extension of the self.  In addition to being dishonest, it isn't how and why the vast majority of people drive.

More than most cars, the Acura RLX can make a claim to be a driver's car.  The end tag line about how amazing things can happen when man and machine connect is where this is beginning to break down for me.  How connected can you possible be to an automatic, climate controlled machine that weighs two tons?  It isn't what you could call an intimate relationship.

GM seems to have gone all in with the special effects.  Their econo-box is a skateboard, robot dogs abound, and the new Corvette can help you battle aliens.  The use of special effects to show what a car can't do (but how it's supposed to make you feel)  is becoming a key part of marketing these transportation appliances.

At the bike course one of our instructors talked about how tiring it is to ride a bike, especially when you're starting out.  We were all sitting there sweaty and tired in the classroom after a couple of hours manhandling bikes around increasingly complicated courses.  He asked us about our commute to the course that morning, what were we doing as we drove our cars?  One hand on the wheel, a foot on the gas?  Listening to the radio?  All in a  controlled environment remote from the road.

Now, he says, think about what you were just doing out there.  One foot on the gear shift, one foot on the rear brake, left hand on the clutch and indicators, right hand on the front brake, both arms steering, using your whole body to lean the bike into corners and resist the wind.  Riding is a calisthenic activity, and it demands much more of your attention because the result of inattention is never just a fender bender.

The only time I've come close to the same experience on four wheels was when I was cart racing in Japan or doing advanced driver training at Shannonville.  Knowing how intense and demanding that kind of driving is helped me a lot in taking the bike course, but it's not how most people will ever drive a car.  To 99.9% of drivers a car is a transportation appliance, a necessary means of getting somewhere; it's why everyone is so attentive and skilled on the road.  You can try and market a person's connection with their car in mystical undertones of human/machine perfection or simply paint it absurd with special effects, but the fact remains: the vast majority of  automotive drivers are in it for the same reason that we buy any appliance: to get a job done we'd rather not do ourselves.

Having ridden for a couple of months now, I'm beginning to see why bike riders tend toward a sense of superiority when it comes to being on the road.  Watching car companies go into graphic detail about how athletic you'll be in your two ton box starts to look absurd when you consider how drab the process of driving a car on public roads actually is; it requires a bare minimum of commitment.

One of the things that strikes me every time I get on the bike is how naked I feel.  I've never looked at the surface of a road so closely, or been so aware of where the painted lines are, or of what the weather is doing, or what condition my bike is in.  I think all riders feel this, even if they don't articulate it.  It's one of the reasons they tend to give each other a wave as they pass by; they are recognizing the commitment to the road that is lacking in appliance drivers.

This isn't to say that driving can't be athletic.  I'm an avid Formula One fan and I think those drivers are some of the finest athletes in the world, a truly balanced blend of physical endurance, strength and intelligence.  But on a public road there is only one form of driving that comes close to that level of commitment, dedication and focus, and it has never been on four wheels, no matter how exciting car companies want to dress up the operation of their appliances.

Tuesday 28 May 2013

Hot Gear

After getting the basic gear and riding as soon as snow was off the road, I'm now wondering how the summer will go. I've been wearing jeans when I ride in to work, but they aren't particularly comfortable, though they are cooler than the bike pants I got on sale.  Those pants, other than a zip up the side, are solid with no venting.  They're great on a frosty April morning and they are nice and wind proof, but the thought of putting them on in a thirty-five degree summer day is daunting.  I didn't even need the liner in them when it was 5°C, I can't imagine when anyone would need that liner (riding in a snow storm?).

Now that I'm getting a sense of what sort of kit I'm in need off (I tend to be warm by nature, so cooler is always better) cooler gear is what I'm looking for.

I get the sense that the super touring pants (the kind you see on TV) offer a kind of cooling that my cheaper ones can only dream of.  I wish I could get my hands on a pair of the super pants and see just how good they are, but they are expensive and no local retailer in Southern Ontario seems to have any on shelves.  My only option to buy is online, sight unseen, and that makes me uneasy when you're buying a pair of pants for upwards of three hundred dollars.

My ideal pants would have armor where you need it and lots of ventilation up and down the legs and in the seat.  They would also be a light colour so they reflect heat as well.  The Olympia pants (below) seem like a solid choice, but again, I'm only able to go off the description online, and that's a lot of money to sink into a best guess.


I like the monochromatic Star Wars
Storm Trooper look
, but the jacket
adds a nice splash of colour...
I was in Toronto recently and stopped by Cycle World in Scarborough.  They actually had the Alpinestars S-MX 1 boots in white there, so I tried them on.  Nice, light weight, low cut boots that breathe well, but for some reason they are $40 more if I drive over to Scarborough to pick them up, so I didn't.  At least I've tried them on and have a tactile idea of how they feel.  I'd have been happy to pick them up right then, if they weren't so price inflated.

I'm still happy with the Joe Rocket jacket I got.  It fits well, has a removable liner (which I've had out for a month now).  With the liner in and a sweater on, I'm toasty and windproof.  With the liner out and the vents open, I need only get moving to cool off.

The Zox helmet I got is working well, though the wind noise is something I'll address in my next helmet.  In the meantime, I'm loving the swing up face, the drop down sunscreen and the inside of the helmet is very comfortable.  For the money, I don't think I could have gotten a better lid.

Having the right kit on does a couple of things for me.  It puts me in the mindset to ride, and makes me feel like I'm ready for it.  Windproof clothing is worth its weight in gold when you're up at speed.  If you've never tried it, you'll be amazed at what you've been missing.  Being comfortable while riding is an important part of having your head on straight and avoiding problems.  So many people tend to ignore the gear you need to ride well, which is a shame, because with the right stuff, you're likely to get out and do it much more often.


My next purchase?  Then I hope I'm ready to ride in the heat... from CANADA's MOTORCYCLE

Wednesday 24 April 2013

Finessing the Ride


I've been on the bike every chance I've been able to get the past few days.  My longest ride was an hour and ten minute look over to where I used to live and back again.  Yesterday, making use of our last warm, rain free day before the temperature drops and frozen mud returns, I was out and about north of town.  I've been trying to get my shifts smoother.  When I'm gearing up I'm finding the bike plunging going up gears because the revs are so high and the engine drops off revs so quickly.  You need to give it a touch of throttle between bringing the clutch in and engaging it again to match engine revs to road speed.  It's tricky.

I've gotten out of the habit of dropping the clutch in the middle of a corner, making those much smoother, and I'm remembering to turn off the signals much more.  Only once or twice did I forget and have to do it after the fact (usually after tearing up a road after a good turn).  The roads are cleaner and less sand covered, so I'm less worried about washing out in corners.  I'm still startled by how much power the bike has.  You have to hang on tight if you wind it out.

On my way back home the gas light finally came on.  162 miles on that tank (261kms?).  It took $16 to fill it with the highest grade gas I could find.  After I've done the plugs and cleaned the fuel system, I think I can get that over 300kms to a tank.

The real excitement came when I pulled into the gas station for my first fill up.  The premium pump was empty so I went to pull in.  Just then a woman in an old Taurus started backing into the same lane, so I stopped quickly.  So far so good, except her angle is all wrong and she's driving right for the curb the gas pump is on.  She starts to pull forward so I assume (wrongly) that she is doing a 3 point turn and leaving.  Instead, she starts backing up again.  I haul on the brakes hard.  This time I can't get my legs down in time and drop the bike, still running, my hand locked on the front brake and clutch.  Rather than hit the kill switch (and because I'm in embarrassed shock), I try to dead lift a 400lb Ninja back onto its feet.  I didn't do it the first time, the adrenaline did it for me the second time (I'm a big guy).  I got her back on her wheels, still with the front brake and clutch in.  The woman in the Taurus has since backed up again because she went up on the curb and is trying to back into the slot again, except she goes over the curb a third time, then a forth time.  She finally backs it up into the slot back from the one I was trying to pull into.

The guy filling his truck makes eye contact with me and shakes his head.

I walk the bike up to the pump only to discover it doesn't work.  Excellent.  I end up walking it over to the next lane and the other premium pump and finally get to fill up my new bike for the first time.  The ride home had me second guessing everything I was doing.  After a nice ride I was shaky.  Later that night my right arm feels tight, I think I pulled something deadlifting a 400lb Ninja out of the way of the most incompetent driver I encountered on that ride.  On the upside, at least she didn't kill me driving down the road, and I can now say I've dropped my bike, picked it up and gone on.  Thank goodness the guy before me put frame sliders on it, no damage done (other than to my pride).

Wednesday 17 April 2013

That Guy...

I'm that guy! I always wanted to be that guy!
It's been spring-ish in Ontario for the past couple of days (after the ice storm).  I've had the bike out a few times.  I still get a charge out of waving to another rider.

Yesterday I went out for almost an hour.  The front end felt a bit soft, but now the bike feels balanced on a knife's edge with the right pressure in the tyres (the front was at 20psi after a winter in storage).  That was the first fifteen minutes of the ride, trying to find a gas station with a working air pump and then paying a buck... for air.  Once that was sorted I was south on the small highway out of town.  I'd never gotten the bike properly warmed up before, it's an eager, responsive creature, even at low RPMs, but it seems happiest between 3500 and 4500 rpm for cruising..  I'd also never gotten it up to highway speed before, wind noise is surprising, though it shouldn't be; a 100km/hr wind wouldn't be quiet, would it?

I'm getting better at remembering the indicators.  The stuff drilled into me on the course has stayed.  I'm always in neutral and on the clutch when I start it, and I don't get on until I'm completely suited up; good habits to have.  Had the bikes we practiced on had indicators, I would have probably internalized those too.  I don't want to look like a (dangerous) n00b riding down the street with a forgotten signal flashing.

I took a left turn off the highway onto a back road and made one of my few control errors.  I thought I was in 3rd, but I was in 1st.  I dropped the clutch too hard and was thrown forward. As I reacted I accidently pulled on the throttle... my first wheelie!  On Highway 6!  Fortunately I was sitting close (as an instructor had told me during the course).  I let go of the throttle, and with my weight forward got back on 2 wheels.  As I rounded the corner the kid sitting at the stop sign was all worked up by my wheelie, so he smoked the tires on his Cavalier.  Had he known how freaked out I was, he wouldn`t have been so excited by the whole display.

You get cold on a bike, even in good gear when it`s cool out.  I got home with cold hands and a big smile on my face.  I got to know my Ninja a bit better, and have an appreciation of just how athletic she actually is.

Friday 29 March 2013

Quiet Mind at Ten Tenths


Written March, 2013, courtesy of Straw Dogs:


I've wanted to get a bike since I was old enough to drive, but my parents did backflips to put me in a car instead (probably wise at the time).  Now that I'm older and wiser, I'm looking for something other than just thrills from riding a motorcycle.

What feels like a lifetime ago, I was living in Japan.  A colleague and I came across a student who was into racing carts.  He invited us out and it became a regular event.  I'd always had an interest in motorsports and fancied myself a decent driver, it was nice to have the lap times prove it.

One of the most enjoyable side effects of ten tenths driving in a tiny shifter cart doing 100km/hr into a left hander was how focused your mind is.  You are taking in all sorts of sensory inputs, your adrenaline is ticking, you can feel the tires on the edge of grip, the wind is thundering past your helmet, the engine is screaming behind you, and you are no where else but in that seat.  You feel burned clean of any worries, plans, random thoughts or distractions.  You feel like you're dancing with the machine under you, it becomes an extension of yourself.  It's a wonderful feeling and I have never felt so exhausted and relaxed as I did after a day at Kiowa, deep in the mountains, tearing around that track.

I'm hoping that I can find that same quietness of mind on a motorbike.  The personal space and focus needed will be therapeutic.  The chance to disappear into my senses, to be entirely with the moment... the best kind of meditation.