Posted on 06/09/2002 4:32:52 AM PDT by 2Trievers
| 06-02-02 BECOMING A BIKER: Buying the motorcycle is just step one for this beginner |
This thing might kill me. That thought is on my mind as I learn how to ride my shiny new purchase, an 883 Harley-Davidson Sportster.
Experienced riders advised me to never lose this respect for my bike. Riding is risky, no matter how good you are.
Nearly everyone recommended the three-day motorcycle rider safety training program put on by the state division of motor vehicles for $85. Anxious to increase my odds of survival, I signed up. Plus, if you pass the class, you get your license. That means avoiding the stand-alone test at the DMV.
But the earliest state safety class available was June 3. Who could wait that long?
For $50, the state will give anyone a motorcycle learner’s permit. That lets you ride in the state from dawn to dusk. No experience or knowledge required. Get on and go.
Not that I was in any hurry to do that. Just sitting on the bike and starting it up was thrilling enough. And that’s all I did for a few weeks. Then it was moving the bike a big 15 inches. What a thrill, shifting into in first gear, slowly releasing the clutch, inching forward, and rolling backward.
Next, to the end of the driveway and back. Then to end of the short dead-end street and back. Back and forth, back and forth. As boring — and perhaps silly — as this sounds, it wasn’t. Learning how to throttle, clutch, shift, turn and brake takes a lot of practice.
Finally, the big day. My outing with cars. An experienced Harley-riding friend assured me I was ready to ride a mile to the parking lot at Jenness State Beach in Rye. The big open pavement. She followed behind in an SUV.
For several weeks, she coached me on how to do figure-8s, turns, stops, and shifting at various speeds. Going straight was easy. Accelerating exhilarating. Turning frightening. But still fun.
After becoming comfortable with all this, I took to the open road. Well, almost. A slow 30-mph trip along Route 1A through Rye and Hampton. It was ideal because it’s slow, has a lot of curves to practice on and few intersections. Invariably, a line of impatient motorists would collect behind me.
I find few things natural about riding a bike. It’s not like a car. It involves your entire body. Your hands and feet control different functions, braking, shifting, accelerating. And your body controls things like the bike’s balance.
The open road
On April 17, the mercury hit a record 90 degrees. No one with a motorcycle left it at home. I suited up in full leather armor and full face helmet, and attached the windshield. My first highway ride, a 48-mile commute from Portsmouth to Manchester on routes 95 and 101.
What a drag! Noisy, vibrating and way too dangerous. Cars whizzed by way too fast and close. I found myself envying people in their cars.
Holding the throttle open for the 45-minute ride was painful. Not much different than gripping a vibrating jackhammer. By the time I arrived at work, my right hand ached and my arm was numb up to my elbow. No leisurely ride to work sipping your coffee and listening to the radio. Plus, I missed my morning stop at Dunkin’ Donuts to get a coffee for the office. Bummer.
By the afternoon, the National Weather Service had issued thunderstorm warnings. The rain never came, but the wind did. Ungodly blasts of wind pounded me. My bike blew all over the highway. I gripped the handle bars and hung on for dear life.
I tried to calm myself with words like, “Of course, motorcycles are designed to drive at highway speeds in high winds.” But this one sure didn’t act like it. Who in their right mind rides a bike on the highway?
So what’s next? It seemed like I had done it all: back roads, highway, parking lots. I even began feel pretty cocky about having logged 760 miles on my bike. I half suspected the state’s three-day safety course would be a bore, although experienced bikers assured there was plenty left to learn.
They were right.
Bike school
The course was taught by a stout man named Chico, who rode an awesome Harley. He looked the biker part with a shaved head, giant mustache, black leather jacket, black boots and black jeans. In his other life, he is a successful bass player who travels around the world playing with well-known artists such as blues singer Koko Taylor.
Chico, and an assistant instructor named Doug, imparted all sorts of valuable and potentially life-saving information to the eight women and three men in attendance. Some had never sat on a motorcycle or even driven a standard transmission car. Others, like myself, owned bikes and had put a number of miles on them with learner’s permits.
The state supplied the motorcycles: lightweight 150cc and 250cc Hondas and Suzukis. Some were brand new. Others were battle-scarred. Mine was an abused Honda CB125. Most of the red paint was scraped away from the dented gas tank. One rear view mirror was missing. The gear shifter was bent, and a parking light had a missing lens. But it ran great and was perfect for learning.
Real-world knowledge
Chico taught us about the official and unofficial rules of the road. Every day we learned more about how to ride safely. Stuff like where in the lane to ride, how to be seen in traffic, how to minimize the risks such as a car turning in front of you, and lots more. We went over numerous potentially dangerous situations (from oil on the road to a dog giving chase) and how to ride through them. It was all good stuff.
To my amazement, even the people who had never ridden before did great. They stayed upright and balanced. They even rode pretty well for their first day of ever sitting on a bike. In hindsight, I can see it would have been a lot easier and if I had taken this course before I ever got on my bike. Even bikers who have years of experience say this. Many take this course because it has a lot to teach even veteran riders. The state offers advanced riding classes, too, which I intend to investigate.
Everyone in the class had a blast. Occasionally we dumped the bikes, but by the end of the three days, we were all weaving through tightly-spaced orange cones, swerving around an imaginary school bus, accelerating through sharp turns and skidding to a short stop.
The third day of our class was the big evaluation day. Each of us had to successfully maneuver the bike through four exercises: weaving and sharp turns, quick braking, hard accelerating through a tight turn and swerving — all stuff we had been practicing for two days.
We were all ridiculously nervous and jittery. Many of us rode like we never had before, which is to say terribly. We hit cones, overshot turns and such. But we all did well enough to pass by a decent margin.
By the day’s end, Chico handed us all little graduation cards. All 11 of us became bikers right then and there. The real thing. And more.
As Chico said, we didn’t just get our license. We had joined the universal brotherhood of bikers. Very cool.
1) Get a headlight modulator and a tailight modulator (Kisen is a good brand),
2) Know your bike thoroughly; know its limitations and its stregnths.
Gonna sell the Fat Bob next spring. Too late in the year now to be fooling with it. I'm going to keep the frame,tanks,and other parts from my Denver bike though,"just in case". I lost the engine and tranny in a house fire.
I learned on a dirt bike (like I think all kids should)
After woods, jumps high speed slides and wheelies (intentional or otherwise) mud and diverse terrain, you are ready for anything.
The last really lousy motorcycle to come from Japan was manufactured in 1969, and I owned one; a Bridgestone BS350. If you mistakenly reversed the plug wires on this two-stroke rotary valve twin, the engine would run backwards!
Last year, a friend of mine asked me to ride his new Road King (to the local Bike blessing; another story in itself). As I looked over this behemoth prior to riding it, I envisioned truckish, mediocre handling, unforgiving ground clearance, awkward parking lot handling, etc. In short, I was expecting a handful.
My initial presumptions were so totally off the mark, I felt stupid for having them. Everything about the bike was uniformly excellent. Plush, sumptuous suspension that would make a Gold Winger green with envy. Light, perfectly positioned, easy to use controls. Roomy seating position that invited you to move around, and made you feel like you were on a throne. Astounding brakes. The acceleration, while not up to Suzuki 'busa standards, would easily dispatch just about anything on four wheels you'd likely encounter on the street. And all that torque, from the basement on up.
I thought of all the disparaging and condesending comments I'd read in the magazines regarding the Road King, and laughed out loud. The magazine writers just didn't get it. They still don't . . .
Nov., 2001 he traded in his Honda and purchased a 2002 FLHTC Peace Officers Special from New Smyrna H-D.
He told me it was the most comfortable bike he ever owned. He said the Honda was actually too smooth and he didn't feel the road they way he wanted. He told me he's keeping this Harley forever. It's not as fast as the Honda, but the feel of the bike is unmatchable.
Now all I do is rib him for what his kids told me he said about leaky, stinky, loud, ugly Harleys. :-)
He's presently on a 30 day bike excursion with his wife and his stinky ugly 2002 Harley.
AND>>>>>>He took my saddle bag liners for the trip. He better not smudge 'em!! :-)
Thanks dude! I'm proud of her... Decided to start out slow and easy seeing as how I didn't grow up with bikes like most other folks here and I spent too much $$ and time on my noodle so far to get it bashed up again, haha... Folks here might think I'm crazy and f-ed in the head but I'm no daredevil with Baby Girl.
Agree on the seating position of those rockets. They're awful. I do think, however, that most beginners are better off with something like maxwell got. A friend had one and it was great for poking around town.
Yep it's pretty sweet. You got to get up to 5th to do >30 mph though... Bwahaha... Nice classic design though, that's what attracted me... 300 lb, good solid feel, nice weight distribution and handling (I'm one a them height-challenged individuals)...
NEXT year though, when I get some cash, I'm tradin' her in and going HOG...
Don't kid yourself. I'd LOVE to have my old TT-120R Triumph Bonneville back again. Bought it new on Okinawa in 1966 for about $650.This was the bike that introduced me to Loc-Tite.
The back brake provides not more than 15% the total braking power. The front brakes are by far the more used and the more effective.
On a motorcycle, the weight shift is even more predominate than on a car. This is one reason that the front brake predominates. For a clue - look at the relative braking surface between front and back on a modern bike. It will be obvious that the manufacturers think the front is more important!!
As to which to apply first - I do the front brake almost exclusively, except for two situations: (1) when there is danger of locking up such as on loose gravel or dirt on the road (you lock the front wheel, you go down!) and (2) when maximum braking power is required - then both should be applied simultaneously.
I guess things have changed.....
Wahhhh - this sixty something wants his Wizzer back!!! A great little machine - expecially with a "bellow pipe"!
I didn't graduate to 250cc until my THIRD bike, a Kawasaki KL250 (if memory serves; the Enduro model).
That GZ250 would have been Waaaaay too much bike for me, as a first bike . . . ; )
I dont understand a lick of the rest of your post, but on this we agree. 2T's got it going on. :)
Are you kidding dude? Yeah I'm way novice and no I have no regrets-- I dig my wheels to the max-- but IF I were walking into that shop TODAY I'd go 500 at LEAST... My riding has advanced enough in a month that I could handle it, no problem.
This bike is very easy to control balance and ride. It's only 300 lbs. A kid would have no problems with proper instruction.
Like I said though, it's all I need really for putzing around town on... Don't have time right now for longer trips and whatnot...
But boy, would that bike wiggle when you stuffed it in a corner. Scheeeewww . . .
An old Shoshone Indian chief is purported to have said something to the effect that Each of us follows a path, and the path we are on is the one we must follow; but your path is not everyone elses path.
Once someone identifies their path, and if that path includes a motorcycle, it is still their path. If it does not, and they attempt to cross to another, via the motorcycle (or something else, for that matter), the resulting destination will not be as good for them, had they remained upon the path they were supposed to follow.
I learned to ride on a an old FL Harley. For me, it was not a big deal, for I posessed a natural ability. For most, if they believe that a motorcycle is part of their path, then starting out small, learning techniques and skills common to riding both small and large bikes, will serve them well. Most of us crawl before we walk. The little Honda the author rode in the class is perfect for someone looking to discover if motorcycles are included in their path; much better suited than a Sportster. which could end up being a very expensive and possibly, disappointing experiemnt.
Being coherced into learning to ride on something bigger, more powerful and faster, makes about as much sense as taking one's basic Private Pilot instruction in an SR-71 Blackbird. Not only will the experience break your bankbook, it'll scare the pants off you and most likely sour your attitude towards the whole experience.
I don't believe that there's any so-called "perfect" motorcycle. Each is designed for one sort of riding or another; designed to perform in that arena, and to perform there very well. Outside of that arena however, things are not going to be as expected. Yes, you can ride a 200-HP Japanese TT bike across the country, (humpin' a football), just as you can ride a 777-lb, 60-HP, FLH Harley bagger on backwoods trails, (bouncin' a bagger), but neither experience will leave you as fulfilled, as riding the bike in the conditions it was designed for.
My path includes the road less traveled; an environment well suited for my old FLH. This is my path; the path I must follow. It is not everyone elses path. After over 25-years of riding, with no accidents and only one breakdown on my well-maintained old Harley, I don't care whose taillight I see fading into the distance in front of me. Chances are, I'd have little to talk about with that disappearing taillight anyhow.
So, whatever you ride; ride safe, ride free.
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