Motorcycle Insurance

I've been frustrated with motorcycle insurance and the blanket approach it takes to covering a bike, even one you're not riding.  When I'm paying the same for a new car as I am for a seven year old bike that I use for only a few thousand kilometres a year, usually in very good road conditions, it strikes me as unfair.  The car does about five times as many kilometres and can do much more damage in a crash.  It also has to drive through snow storms and the other perils of winter driving while my bike sits in the garage undergoing a full maintenance overhaul.

Maintained to within an inch of its life and spending
the most dangerous driving time of the year in a garage.

Speaking of maintenance, the bike sees a heck of a lot more of it that the car does, especially in the winter.  The bike is checked before each ride and sees weekly maintenance and checks on a larger scale.  The bike is a cherished tool of self expression, the car is an appliance.

When I called up the insurance company I've been with for over twenty years and asked for a quote they said they wouldn't even consider me, but told me to come back in a few years.  Nice, eh?

I finally got in touch with RidersPlus, who specialize in bikes.  It wasn't cheap, but they got me sorted out quickly.  My first bike isn't a big cc monster, I tried to be 

One of these things is not like
the other, though both are the
same in the eyes of insurance

sensible with my first ride and only considered mid-displacement machines.  Having insured a lot of cars, I knew what could happen between a Mustang and a Crown Vic, yet in motorcycle terms these two vehicles would be considered equal simply because they have the same displacement.  

I was on the verge of getting a KLR (a big, single cylinder on/off road bike) when I came across the Ninja.  It has almost identical displacement though almost nothing else in common with the KLR.  One is a sport bike for the road, the other is an all terrain bike that rides on the road when needed.  The Ninja is fast and agile, the KLR sturdy and stable.  With such different intentions and abilities, I expected the Ninja to be a much more expensive option, but was shocked to be quoted the same price.

What is at the bottom of my insurance despair is that a second bike costs me pretty much the same as the first. At the Toronto Motorcycle Show last weekend I stopped by RidersPlus again and had a chat.  The guy there confirmed that your insurance does in fact drop quite significantly over the first few years of riding and by my forth or fifth year I'd be able to insure two bikes for basically what I'm paying for one now.

Honda CB500X, a nice fit, multi-purpose
machine that is easy on insurance

In the short term if I want to minimize insurance costs while I'm learning to ride, a low displacement bike is the key.  I sat on the Honda CB500X at the show.  A nice, tall bike that could handle a wider range of duties than the road focused Ninja.  I'd be giving up a bit of power, but even a 500cc bike still has a much better power to weight ratio than most cars.

Another option is to dig up an older enduro bike, like the Suzuki DRZ-400.  This would be a go-anywhere bike that I'd get used and not worry about tipping over occasionally.  Being an even lower cc bike, it would be even cheaper on insurance.

Notes

Some interesting Stats-Canada vehicle collision statistics - very easy to look through.  It shows a downward trend in accidents, injuries and deaths over the past twenty years.  Glad to see my insurance is coming down with it.

Forbes Article: The most dangerous time to drive - A Saturday in August in an urban environment.  It turns out the most dangerous places to drive are where there are a lot of other people - places most bikers avoid like the plague.

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).

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.

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.