Now how long would THAT last???
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.
101 Reasons To
Buy A Harley
They're designed, engineered assembled and built in U.S.A.
They sound Cool. Like a W.W.I Biplane!
They are not an imitation of anything but themselves.
Chicks dig 'em.
There are thousands of accessories available, so you can make your Harley uniquely
yours.
They can be painted outrageous colors, with strange murals, and no one thinks they
look terrible or silly.
They just look like Harley's.
There are more Harley mechanics around than for any other bike.
Even an old, beaten up one looks good.
They have a long, rich history and heritage.
Anyone can ride one.
Everyone recognizes a Harley.
You can get a Harley tattoo.
You can get a Harley bumper sticker.
Used ones cost more than new ones.
You don't hear songs about Suzuki's.
You can find more Harley parts at swap meets and flea markets than for any other
bike.
When you run into a car, you do more damage to it than other motorcycles can.
You can buy a fully-dressed Harley with a radio; comfy seats with armrests; a big,
useful windshield; solid saddle bags and a trunk, and no one thinks you're an old fart
when you ride it.
You never have to wonder how to spend your extra money.
You always know there's something appropriate you can give as a gift to a Harley
rider.
You can pretend you're a Hell's Angel on weekend rides, then go back to your real life
on week days without going to jail.
An old Harley rusting in a barn is worth more than a new Honda.
When your Harley is stored away for the winter, you can still polish it.
When you say you're going to clean the bike, your spouse will always know what
you're up to for the next few hours and not have to worry.
It can make you smile on a bad day.
It keeps cops wondering if you're a Hell's Angel or maybe really an influential judge or
lawyer under those leathers.
It gives you the opportunity to try out every metal polish and auto cleaner in the
hardware store.
Makes small children shake with fear when you rumble by them.
Even a small Harley is a big bike.
You don't have to dress like a Mighty Morphin Power Ranger to ride a Harley.
You can wear a Harley cap and not look as silly as 99 per cent of people who wear
baseball caps (except of course backwards, which immediately identifies you as a
dweeb regardless of the brand name... Remember: people who can't figure out which
way a hat goes on are also poor prospects for friends).
This reason missing - vibrated off.
Unlike sport bikes, you don't need to visit your chiropractor after riding a Harley for
more than 20 minutes.
You never have to explain or apologize for your choice or ride.
No one ever asks you to race them.
You will never need to go out and buy a vibrator.
You always have something to talk about with other Harley riders.
You can always find an after-market part for any Harley, no matter how old it is.
The chrome is on all the right parts, but you can always add more or take some off
and it still looks good.
You never have to get the valves adjusted.
They have only one carburetor to adjust.
They're always in style.
If you ride another motorcycle at 40, people think you're either crazy or haven't grown
up. If you ride a Harley at 40, people think you're young at heart and have style.
Harley riders always have something to talk about at parties.
Sure you can ride other motorcycles to Daytona and Sturgis, but why?
Women riding Harley's look sexy, confident and independent.
Cleaning your bike is an act of love, not a chore.
Harley riders have a better sex life. Honest!
Harley riders are recognized worldwide. Wear a Harley cap or T-shirt anywhere in the
world and someone will walk up and talk to you about your bike.
People can argue endlessly about the technical advantages and ergonomics of other
motorcycles, but when it's all been said, Harley riders get on their bikes and ride away
with a smile.
Harley riders always have a wrench handy to loan someone.
Harley riders never have to worry about their Harley-riding friends asking to borrow
money.
Harley riders learn to say 'No' early to people who ask to borrow their bike. This skill
is useful when dealing with sales people, Jehovah's Witnesses and children.
Harley riders always turn heads going through the center of town.
You are never lonely. Instant family when you buy a Harley.
Harley riders don't have to worry about their bikes being obsoleted by the next year's
model.
Long-term marriages are safer with a Harley because the husband will be too
preoccupied with the bike to bother meeting other women. And the wife always
knows where hubby is when he's not in the house... he's in the garage, polishing
something or out riding around town showing off.
When someone asks "What do you ride, you don't have to explain what a
"GSR783ATF-I Inducer" is. You simply say "A Harley".
You meet more people at bike shows and rallies who ride Harley's.
When people drive to slow in front of you, you just get to ride longer.
Harleys even make good rat bikes.
You can ride a Harley in rodeo and field day competitions at bike rallies (try riding a
sport bike in the barrel push... or the weenie bite).
If you want speed and power, you can pump it up to your satisfaction.
There are more Harley riders at any gathering than any other bike rider.
Harleys never die.
"Arnold" rode one in T2.
When you do the wave to another Harley on the highway they wave back.
Every Harley made will be sold to someone who wanted it. No "last years model".
You get more grins per mile, even in the rain!
You don't need to understand "double overhead cam's" to maintain them.
Harley riders understand that if you have 2 Harley's you are not rich, if you have 2
Harley's you have no money at all!
Non-Harley riders will never borrow your tools.
Harley-Davidson's feel better than any other bike.
You can feel the rumble pulse through you as you ride.
You don't have to drop the engine out to work on it.
You can find any style of seat for every year.
You can build one from the ground-up, and everyone thinks its cool.
You get to tell people "If you have to ask you wouldn't understand".
You don't have to talk your girlfriend into going for a ride.
If you're old, the idle shakes like a pacemaker.
They can be slow AND bitchin'.
Fat people gotta ride somethin'.
When people ask "Isn't there a waiting list?", you can tell them "Yeah, I waited 33
years and 9 Jap bikes".
Harley salesmen don't have to sell them.
Help keep your neighbors from sleeping too late.
Old ones keep the highways properly lubricated.
Lots of extra protein from those bugs in your teeth.
You always know where the cars with alarms are in your neighborhood.
You don't need to remove any bodywork to do a tune-up.
Don't need any weight lifting equipment. Just knock it down and pick it back up.
You don't have to explain your mid-life crisis in detail -- "got a Harley" will suffice.
If someone cuts in front of you in traffic, they are almost always intimidated.
If you get stuck in boring business meetings, you can always think about that last
ride you took.
"Honey, it's economical -- gets GREAT gas mileage!"
You can putz along at 20MPH, and still look cool.
It's like getting to ride your savings account around.
reserved for future use.
Instant non-aspirin pain reliever.
If someone's head doesn't turn, you know they're still envious.
You never need to buy a paint shaker.
When someone asks what color it is, you can answer "mostly chrome"!
Because you've wanted one since you were 11 years old.
Now how long would THAT last???
AA Recovering Alcoholic's Co-Dependent country love song
" Ah Don't NEED you Baby, but I'd LIKE toooooooo!"
That bike sort of looks like the automatic spanking machine we used to scare each other with that the principle kept in the basement for bad kids back in kindergarten days...Wow, how times have changed...Students today are completely unconcerned about punishment, and suffer in life for the lack of discipline they got as kids.
A lot of us with Asian bikes are on tourers with guts, like the Yamaha Ventures from 83 to 93 or so...and their reincarnation with the Royal Star Ventures.
Smoothness of four cylinders and mechanical comforts of a V-design give you more foot and legroom, too.
Best bike I ever had was an 83 Venture, I swear, your mother could do circus tricks on it like an athlete.
I hear ya. People forget about the tour bikes. However, the really really obnoxious ones are typically found on the crotch rockets.
You pro-risk people are causing the downfall of America. With fatherless families, single mothers are raising children without proper earnings. With motherless families, single fathers are unable to impart the proper morals and instruction. And then there are the damaged people, the injuries, that jack up your and my insurance bills and cause irreperable harm to the medical system.
ANY MOTORCYCLE IS AN UNACCEPTABLE RISK! THEY MUST BE BANNED! You risk-junkies are killing our country!
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