Back in the beginner's class for me, despite a year and a half riding.
Yesterday I had been riding for about two hours straight on roads I had never visited before, enjoying the sunshine, lack of traffic, and gentle curves. I approached a sharp, and blind, right turn. I barely slowed down, such was my inflated self-esteem and feeling of oneness with the motorcycle and the road. (How many rookie mistakes have you checked off so far?)
Around entry point I saw that there was a lot of gravel ahead and that at the lean required I would probably spill. There was enough room to straighten up and head across the road, leaving about 15 feet in front of oncoming traffic. I noticed that the second car was tight behind the first so it is possible the first car had braked suddenly. At the very least the driver saw another irresponsible motorcyclist and for that I am more than a little ashamed.
I stopped in someone’s front yard, upright on grass (what luck-no fence!), quite shaken by my textbook idiocy. (I was actually at a loss as to what to do next—remind me how you get off a motorcycle?). Another very considerate and experienced rider (in his fifties, riding since he was 11) who was behind me had pulled over. He was remarkably assuring and tactful, but in brackets I guess at want he either meant or wanted to say:
“Are you okay?”
(…in the head?)
“How long have you been riding?”
(…about a week I’d wager, considering we are pushing your shiny red Honda out of someone’s front yard.)
“Where are you from?”
(…not these parts, given your profound ignorance of the roads)
“My friends and I practise slow maneuvers in parking lots”
(…go back to basics you complete tw@ and once you can take a corner at 5mkh try a real one at, say, 20.)
“It’s a dangerous corner”
(…for you, in that it requires actually turning, and the myriad of techniques involved. Techniques you might have read about or seen on YouTube, but clearly haven’t understood or internalised.)
“Snake Road is closed”
(…so you might actually get home in one piece.)
“We all do stupid things”
(…you do stupid things)
“Ride safe”
(…preferably on a bicycle. Or perhaps an escalator to begin with.)
If my interpretation of his words is correct, he was 100% right. And I sincerely thank him for his concern and insight.
The odd things is that I am the epitome of a careful rider. I am a 45 year-old accountant with three young children. I always wear full gear, I have taken two motorcycle courses and I read about technique and safety a lot. I obey traffic rules, and I arrogantly scoff at riders who lark about or don’t wear full gear (but at least know how to ride). I also entered motorcycling reluctantly: a new job required that I travel further and faster than my cycle could take me and without a license of any description two wheels was the only way I could do it without an 8-month delay. So riding is not a lifestyle for me, it is my daily commute. However, it took about two weeks for me to be utterly seduced. I deeply regretted not starting 30 years ago. And a big part of the joy of riding is the focus required. It is extreme mindfulness: doing everything as well as I possibly can and gaining satisfaction from a well-executed lane change, smooth deceleration, or perfect lane positioning. But the focus must be constant, and one moment of carelessness quickly undoes all the attention, training and hard work. (I will add that I was riding to see a 20-year old nephew who is undergoing brain surgery today to remove a large tumour. I had told myself before setting out that I cannot crash as there is simply no spare emotion left in the family. How selfish it would be!)
I was able to continue riding as the mishap was completely my fault and I had control over it happening again. Had it been a car crossing lanes and narrowly missing me I probably would have needed a much longer pause. Or a Manhattan.
So after riding every day for months I am taking a few days off to reflect, and then I will start afresh, back in the beginner’s camp, hopefully lesson learned.
P.S. Most fatalities occur in the third year of riding. The first year the rider is green but overly cautious. In the third year the rider is green and overly confident. Surely just knowing this should be prevention enough?
Yesterday I had been riding for about two hours straight on roads I had never visited before, enjoying the sunshine, lack of traffic, and gentle curves. I approached a sharp, and blind, right turn. I barely slowed down, such was my inflated self-esteem and feeling of oneness with the motorcycle and the road. (How many rookie mistakes have you checked off so far?)
Around entry point I saw that there was a lot of gravel ahead and that at the lean required I would probably spill. There was enough room to straighten up and head across the road, leaving about 15 feet in front of oncoming traffic. I noticed that the second car was tight behind the first so it is possible the first car had braked suddenly. At the very least the driver saw another irresponsible motorcyclist and for that I am more than a little ashamed.
I stopped in someone’s front yard, upright on grass (what luck-no fence!), quite shaken by my textbook idiocy. (I was actually at a loss as to what to do next—remind me how you get off a motorcycle?). Another very considerate and experienced rider (in his fifties, riding since he was 11) who was behind me had pulled over. He was remarkably assuring and tactful, but in brackets I guess at want he either meant or wanted to say:
“Are you okay?”
(…in the head?)
“How long have you been riding?”
(…about a week I’d wager, considering we are pushing your shiny red Honda out of someone’s front yard.)
“Where are you from?”
(…not these parts, given your profound ignorance of the roads)
“My friends and I practise slow maneuvers in parking lots”
(…go back to basics you complete tw@ and once you can take a corner at 5mkh try a real one at, say, 20.)
“It’s a dangerous corner”
(…for you, in that it requires actually turning, and the myriad of techniques involved. Techniques you might have read about or seen on YouTube, but clearly haven’t understood or internalised.)
“Snake Road is closed”
(…so you might actually get home in one piece.)
“We all do stupid things”
(…you do stupid things)
“Ride safe”
(…preferably on a bicycle. Or perhaps an escalator to begin with.)
If my interpretation of his words is correct, he was 100% right. And I sincerely thank him for his concern and insight.
The odd things is that I am the epitome of a careful rider. I am a 45 year-old accountant with three young children. I always wear full gear, I have taken two motorcycle courses and I read about technique and safety a lot. I obey traffic rules, and I arrogantly scoff at riders who lark about or don’t wear full gear (but at least know how to ride). I also entered motorcycling reluctantly: a new job required that I travel further and faster than my cycle could take me and without a license of any description two wheels was the only way I could do it without an 8-month delay. So riding is not a lifestyle for me, it is my daily commute. However, it took about two weeks for me to be utterly seduced. I deeply regretted not starting 30 years ago. And a big part of the joy of riding is the focus required. It is extreme mindfulness: doing everything as well as I possibly can and gaining satisfaction from a well-executed lane change, smooth deceleration, or perfect lane positioning. But the focus must be constant, and one moment of carelessness quickly undoes all the attention, training and hard work. (I will add that I was riding to see a 20-year old nephew who is undergoing brain surgery today to remove a large tumour. I had told myself before setting out that I cannot crash as there is simply no spare emotion left in the family. How selfish it would be!)
I was able to continue riding as the mishap was completely my fault and I had control over it happening again. Had it been a car crossing lanes and narrowly missing me I probably would have needed a much longer pause. Or a Manhattan.
So after riding every day for months I am taking a few days off to reflect, and then I will start afresh, back in the beginner’s camp, hopefully lesson learned.
P.S. Most fatalities occur in the third year of riding. The first year the rider is green but overly cautious. In the third year the rider is green and overly confident. Surely just knowing this should be prevention enough?
I learn something new during during every ride. 
