Cars, etc.

[PMS Witch]

While we're talking bikes --

I think one of the biggest advantages of starting small and advancing to something larger is that while you're learning, the bike beneath you more closely matches your riding ability. Many of the skills a motorcycle rider must master for survival are vastly easier to acquire using a smaller, lighter, less powerful machine. Motorcycle hard-knock school has steep tuition, and it’s usually paid in both dollars and pain; hence, anything likely to reduce the price is worthy of serious consideration.

Riding with a reduced potential for disaster makes the edges of your ability less frightening and you’re more likely to visit this territory. When you do, you hone your riding skills further. You become confident and are able to replace fear and terror with exhilaration and enthusiasm when you’re faced with challenging situations or unexpected dangers. In short, you’ll be better prepared.

But perhaps the most enjoyable benefit of learning on incrementally larger machines is that later on, you can exploit the wide ability gap when you encounter others riding motorcycles with capabilities similar to yours. In this case, what’s between their knees cannot compensate for what’s between your ears. The coupling of a great machine and a well prepared rider augments the capabilities of both.

Cheers, PW.

P.S. We had a bit of snow last night. This morning, the temperature dropped and the wind picked up, encouraging me to wrap my scarf even tighter than usual. Reading a few posts and looking at photographs of motorcycles from my youth has transported me to another world at another time. I can’t believe how fast the decades fly by.

Whenever I see a guy go by on a modern motorcycle, I often wonder what they’d be like to ride. They seem so sophisticated compared to what was available when I rode. But some things don’t change: leaning into the corners, the wind pressing your chest, the spectacular acceleration and braking, as well as the unimpeded visibility. I can still dream.

P.P.S.

I stopped for a coffee last summer and a guy pulled up aboard a sport-bike. Don’t remember what it was, but the graphics made it look like it was going a hundred when it was parked. The guy’s leathers and helmet were colour matched blurring the distinction between man and machine; they appeared as one. He had the works, jacket, pants, gloves, and boots. When he pulled off his helmet, I was surprised by his age: he looked like he was in his late seventies or early eighties. He also looked very, very, happy. Good for him! Sure beats viewing life from a rocking chair.