Throttles

Long ago, when I took the Basic Rider Course through the Motorcycle Safety Foundation, the instructor, a retired motor officer, recited over and over again his belief that there was no such thing as an accident. His argument was that every accident was in fact the result of inattention and/or making poor decisions. We offered example after example and in each instance he could lead us to one final conclusion: trouble could have been avoided if the rider was simply more aware and thus more in control.

I can't say I liked his thesis, but I must admit I could not find a hole in it. Perhaps I did not like it because it placed responsibility on me! As I thought of my own close encounters (thankfully only one of which involved an actual collision) I kept reaching the same conclusion: the "accident" could have been avoided with increased awareness or a different decision.

As a result of his teaching, one of the games I play on my daily commute is "How much can I control the bike without using the brakes?" I accomplish this by using the throttle and clutch, trying to maintain safe following distances and approaches to traffic signals with subtle inputs with the throttle and downshifting to match rpm's to the throttle input, rather than a touching of the brake. It is simply a means of staying in control and acting, rather than re-acting, to potentially dangerous situations. It is one means by which I can affirm responsibility for my own riding and thereby avoiding the need to exclaim: "It was an accident!"

For example, as I look down the road beyond the vehicle immediately in front of me, if I see brake lights coming on from the cars down the lane I decrease throttle and downshift at the appropriate time; if I see a car approaching an intersection from my right, I watch the wheels move left in the lane while decreasing throttle thus giving myself time and distance to brake if necessary; if I find myself in the blind spot of another driver I either increase or decrease throttle to move out of the blind spot. It's all about awareness, anticipation, and subtle input.

It seems to me that such an approach to many emotional encounters might be valuable as well. How often has someone let loose with a barrage in anger only to later say, "I didn't really mean it." They were angry and couldn't brake fast enough to prevent the anger from coming out of their mouth. Throttle control - input - might have helped avoid the crash! It's all about looking ahead, acting rather than re-acting, and taking responsibility for one's own situation.

Maybe my instructor was right ... there are no accidents!

Adapting

Riding a motorcycle at high speed in a straight line is not hard; give me ten minutes and I can teach anyone who has ever ridden a bicycle to balance and accelerate. What is hard to develop is the ability to effectively read and ride curves and turns. A well trained rider can watch another rider take a curve or turn and tell whether that rider is a novice, a weekend warrior, or an experienced biker.

Like all skill sets, there is a standard taught by MSF courses, referred to as Outside-Inside-Outside, which simply means that as you approach say, a left hand curve, you enter the curve from an apex on the right side of the lane (outside), move towards the left side of the lane (inside) as you round the curve, and then accelerate towards the right side of the lane (outside) again. This process allows the rider to keep the machine in an upright a position as possible, which is the safest means to take a curve. While it may look cool to stay in the center of the lane at a constant lean, by so doing one reduces the contact patch of the tire on the road and is riding with less traction. And traction is what keeps us in control!

That having been said, as with all teaching this one comes with a caveat: You can't always maximize Outside-Inside-Outside and thus have to adapt. For example, what happens if there is gravel or a pothole somewhere on your perfvect line of travel? Do you stick with Outside-Inside-Outside and just run through the gravel or pothole? Of course not, for if you do you risk sliding, blowing a tire, losing control, and all the possible injuries that come from such events! The purpose of Outside-Inside-Outside is to keep the rider safe, but when adhering to the letter of the law could result in greater danger, you have to remember the spirit of the law and adjust. That adjustment might include not only picking a different line, but slowing down so as to maximize the safe entry as well.

Much of life is like that; we have general rules for living but at times we must adapt to new or unexpected circumstances. To adhere to one way of thinking is to create an idol, seeking to cram a universal concept into a specific circumstance, and that just does not always work. As the old proverb goes, "The tongue is soft and remains while the teeth are hard and fall out."

Grapes of Wrath II?

It was the end of this years Long Ride; a buddy and I hit the road early on Friday out of Ely, NV and we had a brisk but lovely ride together into Austion, where I turned north while he continued west. Folks call Highway 50 the "Loneliest Road in America" but trust me when I say there are far more empty roads in Nevada and Oregon! But I stray from my thoughts ...

First, two observations about signage in Oregon ... well, actually one observation. It sucks.

Point 1: coming out of McDermitt there is a sign saying "100 miles to next gas." I glanced down at my gauge and saw four bars ... four gallons. I am a bit of a ninny when it comes to gas, having literally coasted into a gas station several years ago, so I did not take this information lightly. But at the very worst consumption I have ever had that gave me 140 miles, so no problem. Of course about five miles later the fourth bar disappeared and that left me with 105 miles at worst ... still fine.

What no sign tells you is that about 85 miles into the journey you come to a junction and of course the 100 mile gas is off to the right, while I needed to head to the left. Son of a .... so anyway, I head fifteen miles to the right, for a total of 30 miles off track and the privilege of paying $4.50/gal for 85 octane. I could just see the monkey's grinning when I drove up ...

But I am back on track after about forty lost minutes.

Point 2: Hours later I come to another junction with the next highway I need, but of course I have been winding around back and forth, it is mid-day, and so I have no idea which way is north or south. I make a decision, stop and fill up with gas and ask how far to my next marker, and the fellow responds by pointing and saying "about 200 miles down the road." So off I go ... in the wrong friggin' direction. All along the way signs tell me I have the right road, but no indication of north or south, and as I said it was mid-day so I could not even use the sun as a guide. About fifty miles down the road I happen to glance at a sign from a cross street that DOES tell me which direction I am headed, which is of course the wrong way. So I whip around and start back ... another 100 mile detour. So on the longest day of this Long Ride I add an extra 150 miles to the trip. Moron. If it were't for bad luck I would not have any luck at all (and don't start on me about GPS ...).

Now, I am not one who thinks God meddles in our day to day lives, but every now and then I think God gives me a nudge to show me something new, which is actually the point of this tale. Throughout the day I had noticed far more folks at truck stops and gas stations than I have ever seen in all my years on the road; they were all moving from here to there looking for work. Throughout the day I chatted with them and wondered at this fact.

By 7:30 PM I was bone-tired after having traveled 844 miles and badly in needed to get off that bike. So I said to myself, "The next motel I pull over." Moments later I saw a sign for a motel: "Under New Management. Truckers welcome." Cool - truckers know value. So I pulled in and as I did so I noticed there were plenty of cars, some very nice but some ... not so much so, and only a couple of trucks. Nonetheless I asked about a room, was told there is one available for $30 and I quickly forked over the cash. Only then am I told my room is "around the back." Oh-oh.

I pulled around and was shocked by what I saw. All kinds of piece-of-crap cars, about 15 ratty looking little kids running around, and a scene right out of Grapes of Wrath. I got off the bike and chatted with some folks and found a world most of us don't know about ... the world of the working poor. These folks live in this dump (kinda clean but VERY well used) because that is what they can afford. Hard working folks ... low-skilled laborers, waitresses, you know the type. All looking for work, migrating from here to there, trying to take care of their kids. My wife wondered if since it was Friday it would be party night, but these are folks with real family values and by 9 PM everyone was indoors and they were putting the kids to bed. The AC was a joke so I had the windows open all night, and my room was on the second floor right next to the stairs. I didn't hear a single footstep all night. These were decent, hard-working folks who just wanted to do an honest days work, get paid a fair wage, and take care of their families.

There was no resturant within miles, so I broke out my emergency MRE and ate it, sharing the gum and cookies with some kids. Dirty and dressed in ragged clothes, they were normal kids just trying to have fun. And very polite - "Thanks, mister." Their parents were good people - not college educated or prepared to share a learned discourse on geo-politics, but folks with integrity who expected no one to take care of them.

I continue to spend a great deal of thought on this experience. I read that the market has fallen and I have lost most of my 2011 gains .... and I have three motorcycles in the garage and plenty of cash to take a two week wander with my friends. In fact I have enough cash that I can choose to spend $90 a night or $30 on a motel room. I am so privileged ... these folks don't have that luxury.

Our so-called leaders argue and fuss based on ideological perspectives and the latest election popularity polls instead of considering how this great country wastes such precious human resources. I listened to some "religious" TV the other day and heard how America is a Christian nation, and I almsot threw my coffee cup at the TV. How can we call ourselves "Christan" when we refuse to adapt to new economic realities and help the least among us find jobs and take care of themselves? Authentic Christianity is not the nonesense about homosexuality or individual rights, but about taking care of the least among us. At least that is what Jesus said, and it seems to me he should know.

From the files of "You're kidding me!"

The following is for your entertainment pleasure and should be consumed along with copious amounts of alcohol, which will make the tale quite palatable.

Having exahusted my search for a higher "umph" commuter bike with ABS (more accurately, too cheap to pay $12K for a higher "umph" with ABS fourth motorcycle) I did my reaserch and discovered I could increase both HP and torque by about 10% on my lovely little KLR, and more importantly drop peak torque by about 500 rpm's, if I purchased an aftermarket exhaust.

Once more I did my research and found two suitable candidates, the Jardine RT 99 or Two Brother's M7. I preferred the sound of what was purported to be the Jardine, so placed my order with said company.

About ABS I can do nothing for the KLR, but I can improve braking simply by changing out the OEM pads and replacing the rubber lines with braided ones. Said order was placed, I received confirmation via email, and the parts arrived as promised.

As to the exhaust, not a word. I tried for two days to contact the company, with no success. On the third day some poor sap answered the phone and I asked about my order. I was put on hold and when he returned he explained that the pipe was on back order. "How long for back-orders?" I queried. Again I was placed on hold, but to his credit he returned and said, "Well, actually we will not start manufacturing that pipe for another eight to twelve weeks."

You're kidding me!

Needless to say I cancelled that order, made some gentle suggestions about customer service, and headed on down to the local bike shop for the Two Brothers M7, which just happened to be on close-out for 50% off. Nice!

The Missus was off to San Diego to care for our newest grandchild as his mother goes back to work, so the weekend was free and I looked forward to the task at hand.

Saturday morning I was up early, had a stout breakfast, laid out the tools, reviewed my plan, and started to work.

Old exhaust off - no problem, just filthy from this nasty black stuff I ran through in the desert in Arizona. New exhaust on - no problem. Fired up the bike, more umph as promised and the sound is definitely a neighborhood irritant if I should arrive home late at night. Nice.

Now for the brakes. Bleed the line dry - no problem with my handy-dandy Mity-Vac bleeder. Remove the caliper and OEM pads, replace with new aftermarket pads, and replace caliper. No problem, all by the book.

Remove the old brake line, replace with new braided line (in Kawasaki green, of course), thread the line through all the various parts of the friggin' front end, hook up the banjo bolts. A bit of twisting for an old man to get the line where it needed to be, but no problem.

Now, according to Mr. Clymer, the last thing you do is open the master cylinder, remove any remaining fluid, and refill while bleeding. No problem. Except that the screw holding the cover on is made of putty and with a simple twist of my wrist I sheared the head off.

You're kidding me!

Mr. Universe I ain't; for that screw to strip so easily is a statement in poor quality control.

So it was off to Ace Hardware, where for $8 I purchase a titanium bit (I had already busted two bits trying to tap the friggin' screw) and a little reverse threaded goomer which is placed in the pre-drilled hole and then screwed out with a pair of pliers. Nice.

Instructions followed, the screw comes out. No problem.

So it's off to the local Kawi dealer to get a replacement screw. I was going there anyway to get a new air filter. Even thogh the OEM foam filter is reusable, mine was so filthy from Bud making me ride in that black shit that I thought I would give the new exhaust a fighting chance and buy a nice, new clean filter.

Arrive at Dealer, get filter and inquire about screw. Here is the dialogue:

Kevin: "Hey, I managed to shear off the head of the front master cylinder screw so I need a replacement."
Parts: "No problem."
(pause)
Parts: "Well, we don't carry those in stock."
Kevin: "I'm sorry, I must have misunderstood. Can you repeat that?"
Parts: "We'll have to order the screw."
Kevin: "OK, how long?"
Parts: "Seven to ten business days."
Kevin: "You're kidding me!"

So here I sit, beer in hand, KLR on stand, for seven to ten business days. The moral of the story: "Always have more than one motorcycle in your garage."

So when I sober up I think I will take a ride on my trusty Vulcan .... always have a Plan B.

ATGATT

It is amazing what the mind can do, even (especially?) in times of danger.

A few weeks ago I took the four day course "Ride Like a Cop" offered by the Northwest Motorcycle School. The training consisted of various slow- and high-speed exercises and at the end of the four days we were tested against four benchmarks: high-speed braking and evasion; a timed slow-speed precision course; lock-look-lean (tight figure eights); and counter steering.

The high-speed braking exercise required that we enter a gate (a set of cones) at a miminum of 40 MPH and then come to a complete stop within 62 feet, all the while down-shifting into first gear, checking the rearview mirror, and then immediately turning left or right around an imaginary object stopped in front of us and pass through another gate without knocking over any cones.

I was doing well and all through the course had been trying to increase my entry speed. The precision drill looks neat and requires skill, but it is the braking and evasion that will save your life. The instructors had both praised and warned me that I was coming close to the edge (the edge being locking up the front tire). Feeling quite confident of my ability, I hit the gate at 48 MPH and pressed on the brakes ... too hard and too long on the front brake as it turned out.

One of my fellow students later said all he heard was a screech and turned to see me flying sideways off the bike ... at 48 MPH, according to the radar gun. At that moment time slowed down for me, and as my kevlar covered shoulder skidded along the pavement and my DOT approved helmet bounced off the blacktop, I thought to myself "Huh. This is why you buy good gear."

I was later told that I came up kicking and cussing at my own stupidity. The instructor immediately came over and asked if I was OK, to which I replied in the affirmative. Not a scratch. He then asked me if I knew what I did wrong, and I responded, "You mean besides crashing the @#&* bike?"

He later said that when I came off the bike I did a perfect shoulder roll. To which I must thank all the years of martial arts training. My martial arts instructors always said our most dangerous opponents would not be others, but ourselves. Who knew how right they were ...

I thought of this moment often during the past two weeks as I engaged in another summer Long Ride. Too many times I saw other riders with little or no gear on whatsoever. While in Sturgis I happened to see a man in shorts on a bike, with a three or four year old child in front of him and an eight or nine year old behind him, neither of whom had any gear on what-so-ever. Though I am not really a confrontational kind of guy, I turned around to have a word with him but he had disappeared by the time I returned. That man was an idiot and his own hubris will get him - or more tragically someone else whom he claims to love - hurt.

At another time I chatted with someone about wearing gear and he simply said "I don't plan to crash."

No shit. So who does? I certainly didn't, but it happened. I am an experienced rider and had been practicing that particular exercise under controlled conditions for four days. But nonetheless down I went, and good gear saved me from road rash and sprains at best to something potentially far worse. Far bigger surprises can happen in a nano-second while on the road and faced with so many other X factors.

None of us plans to crash, but we better be prepared if we do crash. This is true not just for motorcycling, but for many things in life. None of plans to lose a job, but we better be prepared if that crash comes; none of us plans to hurt others, but we better be prepared to respond if we do; none of us plans for all the hurts in life, but we better be prepared when they come, for they will.

ATGATT: All the Gear, All the Time. For motorcycle riders and for life.

Motos, Modernism, & Metaphors

Modernism is the name given to the period which began roughly with the Enlightenment, as rationality and science began to replace superstition and religion as the primary arbiter of truth. It really gained steam with the Industrial Revolution and served as the philosophical foundation for most of the Twentieth Century. But throughout that period Modernism had its detractors, those who argued against universal truths, until finally towards the end of the Twentieth and the beginning of the Twenty-first centuries a new school emerged, which is referred to as post-Modernism (which says more about what it is not, than what it is). Science itself has lent credence to this movement, as the new physics, specifically Chaos Theory, is demonstrating that at the sub-atomic level there appear to be no rules, or at least none which are detectable to us at the present. Modernity as a system of approaching ultimate truth is rapidly crumbling in the face of various truth claims from science, philosophy, and religion.

I have been struggling with this changing reality for some time, as it has a tremendous impact on my professional life. The Christian faith, so long held (or at least given lip service) as the arbiter of Ultimate Truth, has found itself challenged in this claim from various fronts, including from within.

And now, after having read a couple of recent essays dealing with motorcycles and Modernism, I find that my struggle is extended from my vocation to my avocation! Sigh ... is nothing safe!?

Let me share my pondering. In a blog written by Paul d'Orleans (The Vintagent), he discusses the history of the "industrial suit" or one piece utility suit (coveralls). First developed as a "boiler suit" in the early 1800's to protect workers who had to climb into the fire box of coal burning steam engines to clean them, it rapidly gained favor in many industries as a pragmatic tool and became a symbol of industrial progress. d'Orleans goes on to state that Adolf Loos declared the one-piece industrial suit as the ideal expression of Modern dress, devoid as it was of useless ornamentation. The industrial suit, connected with ideas of efficiency as demonstrated in Henry Ford's mass production techniques and the Bauhaus School of architecture ('form follows function') became the "model for humanity's salvation from itself."

Let's explore this a bit. Anyone who is an aficienado of Moto GP knows full well the advantage and value of the ubiquitous one-piece riding suit, contructed of the latest in space-age developed and wartime-tested material and armor. In virtually every race one can see one of the superb riders taking a spill at VERY high speeds, man and machine sliding along not inconsiderable distances; when the dust settles 99 out of 100 times the rider stands up, basically unscratched to bang his head at the mis-step that led to the fall.

And therein lay the rub, so to speak. While it is certainly true that on occasion the machine will fail and result in a wreck, most often it is the man that fails: a poorly chosen line, an overly optimistic entry speed, a moments hesitation, a little too much brake or many other acts of pilot error usually cause the spill. Man puts himself at risk through his own hubris.

That is the Modernist error - thinking that we can save ourselves from ourselves, if only we have the right knowledge, applied correctly. The Utopian ideal of which thinkers such as Charles Fourier, Comte de Saint-Simon, Marx, Engels, William Morris, and Edward Bellamy all wrote. Yet they all failed in the same fashion; the very concept of Utopia came from the work of future Chancellor of England Thomas More, who used it to describe a perfect world which does not exist!

What does this have to do with one-piece riding gear? One must differentiate between protection and salvation; the riding suit protects us from the results of our own hubris, but it does not save us from the hubris itself. The post-Modernist understands that salvation lay beyond the self, just as the motorcyclist understands that good gear protects, but only right understanding (how to pick a good line, how to apply brakes - information which comes from beyond oneself) combined with right action (actually picking a good line and actually applying proper braking - choices one makes) saves.

Leadership & Group Riding

When I lived in Arizona I was part of the Black Mountain Motorcycle Club, a group of folks dedicated to having fun and riding safely. Group rides were always well organized, planned, and carried out with maximum fun and participation the goal. Ride Captains had scouted the routes prior to our group ride, rally points were established to make sure that if someone fell behind they were not lost, and if the group consisted of a large number of bikes (which was often the case)you were assigned to a smaller, more manageable group of ten-twelve riders.

Having relocated up here to the Seattle area some nine months ago, I have really missed the camaraderie of a club. Plus since I really don't know the area at all, I thought it would be great to connect with other riders who could show me around.

I looked around for a club and the one that caught my eye was affiliated with a local moto-store; although the store sells just one brand of bike, they are smart marketers and have a group which is open to everyone who is interested. They of course offer regular test rides of their bikes in hopes that you will eventually buy their brand, which is actually kind of fun.

I kept waiting for good weather to sign up for a ride, but finally decided that if I continued to wait for good weather then I would never ride with the group, so I signed up and headed out last weekend.

The weather wasn't bad, the scenery was lovely, the people were nice, but the group riding discipline was AWFUL! Probably 2/3 of the bikes were high-end sport tourers (that BMW K1600 GTL is absolutely gorgeous and transcends the mere sobriquet 'motorcycle' as it is something else ... but I guess it should be at $30,000+), with a couple of bigger cruisers (my VN 1600 and a dude on a Honda Rune ... a beautiful, funky bike with a wheel base about as long as my chevy), and a couple of smaller bikes - a V-Star and a V-Strom (both 650 cc's).

Anyway, all 17 of us gathered at the store, we were handed a sheet with directions, and then it was basically every man for himself. No real ride captain, no sweep, no smaller groups, and no rally points along the way. The leader pulled out of the parking lot and the friggin' race was on. I got cut off at a stop light with about half the pack behind me (figures the AZ guy with no GPS and no clue where he is going gets put in lead) but once we got through the city and on to the highway another guy whizzed past me (for which act I was actually quite grateful, as he had GPS and I was glancing down at poorly written directions in small font) and seemed to know where he was going, so I just twisted the throttle and kept up.

I don't know if these guys have ever had any group ride training; no hand signals, the leaders just zipped out or around other vehicles with no thought to the folks behind them, no use of good intervals or staggering, poor use of lanes, and many took curves at VERY high rates of speed. I can carve as good as the next guy on a cruiser, but there is no way on God's green earth I could keep up with the speed the sport touring bikes were holding through those blind and unfamilier curves. I've had enough pucker moments in my life, thank you very much! So I had to use every bit of track day training & technique I have ever learned and a lot of straight-away throttle just to keep up ... and you can imagine what it was like for those poor guys on the smaller bikes, as well as others with little or no training.

We went to this one beautiful spot overlooking Skagit Bay (the road up the mountain was narrow and pretty hairy, with tight switchbacks and decreasing radius turns - a neat technical piece of riding) and after parking all spread out kind of looking around when suddenly the "leader" (an employee of the store) and a few guys mounted up with no warning and headed down the mountain and on to the resturant! So the rest of us hopped on our bikes and headed down as well ... hoping for the best.

This was not a group ride; this was a pack headed in the same direction. There is a great difference in life between the two assemblies and I think we have forgotten that reality in America. We have confused individuality with autonomy, and thus lost the ability to self-differentiate which often leads to a herd mentality. At first I tried to keep up with the "leaders" but quickly realized that so doing would probably get me hurt. I decided that they could call me a punk if they so desired, but I was not going to get killed just for bragging rights while doing something stupid. Looking at the faces of some other folks I had to wonder if they had not succumbed to the herd mentality and survived mostly through luck and superior machinery that kept them from killing themselves.

Leaders have a moral obligation to act in the best interests of the whole; ripping out ahead of others because you like to do it or just for fun is irresponsible and thoughtless. While leaders in every endeavor in life must be out in front, blazing the trail and establishing new goals, they must never get so far ahead of the community that by so doing they endanger others. True leaders move forward in the manner best suited for the whole; true leaders share expectations with others. If a ride is not really a group ride but the chance to show off one's ability, then say so in order for others to make free choices about participation. There is nothing inherently wrong in going fast and pushing your limits; it only becomes wrong when you do not allow others to make informed choices on their own.

Leaders don't show off nor do they lead others into blind and unfamiliar territory for which they are unprepared. Leaders are not leaders when those behind them do not trust that choices made are in the best interests of the whole. Morality dictates not in constraining oneself to the least common denominator, but nurturing and protecting the most vulnerable. A group - any group of any size, whether a moto-club or nation - that neglects that rule has by definition become immoral.

Guess I'll be looking for another riding group ....