Friday, 2005/05/27
Thanks for the waves. I'm waving back.
Today's theme is freeway speed.
I had an eerie confidence in traction this morning. Going out to lunch, I started practicing swerves on that piece of scored concrete freeway that gives me the willies when I try to keep stable. It was actually fun. And I cruised it at 65+ instead of 60, which helped a lot when it came time to cross the merge lanes to exit.
So after lunch I pointed south to Maricopa road, then east on Queen Creek, and north on Price. Mostly open highway with moderate traffic. Then I decided to get home I'd just hop on the 202 and take it all the way.
And it was fine. Plenty of cars, though not quite rush-hour crowded. Most were passing me, because around here 65 is the de facto minimum and 74 is where the cops start getting antsy. So I got up to 70 for a while.
And then it got exciting.
As I was crossing under the I-10 my fuel pressure dropped. I was only at 100 miles on the main supply, and it usually takes 110 before I have to switch to reserve and go looking for gas, but maybe all that downtown cruising I did yesterday cut my mileage. Out here in Ahwatukee and the East Valley the lights are a mile apart, mostly; down there only a block or two each. I thought at first it was a headwind, but by the time I'd rolled-on an extra quarter turn I realized it had to be the gas. So I fumbled for the valve and inverted it and three seconds later got back all my horsepower.
Not the way I'd have chosen to try that for the first time at full speed in a turn on scored concrete in a depression under an ovepass on the freeway in traffic (pickup to the left; nobody in front or behind), but hey. I've done it now and know I won't freak out. I just wish I hadn't looked down for the valve. I should be able to find it without taking my eyes off the road.
Travels of a Squid: Blair's beginning motorcyclist journal
Saturday, 2005/05/28
Two snafus and a wild ride.
Snafu 1: coming home from lunch, I stopped by the guitar store to get some strings and picks, and felt way too cool pulling out of the parking lot. So of course I almost ran out of gas a mile later, but noticed the extra popping and the sudden loss of power - and this time almost a sputter - and twisted the fuel valve on. Duh.
Snafu 2: can't quite remember the exact situation now, but I've got a note from earlier that I'd missed 1st gear on a takeoff. Sometimes for no reason the bike goes to neutral instead of down to 1st when I downshift while braking to a stop. I don't notice because I don't let out the clutch in 1st while slowing; standard procedure. Standard, but on this bike maybe not so smart. I do remember that it stuck me in the lane I was crossing watching cars coming at me. But, I'm still not taking risks so the cars were a reasonably ridiculous distance away.
Wild ride: I was at a buddy's house for a basketball playoff party; and his band was playing his own backyard, so it was a good time, even though I did NO DRINKING. But the Arizona version of weather kicked in, and we got gusting winds, and it looked like it might rain, so I had to beat it home so I wouldn't get wet. I didn't get wet, but it was my first experience with high crosswinds.
Very interesting dynamics. Someone in another thread said something about feeling like the bike would go down. It sorta felt that way the first few gusts, but then I got what the bike was doing. It was taking the wheels to the lee side to provide stabilizing force against the wind. Without any conscious effort from me, the bike was keeping itself upright. My inputs were merely maintaining my course.
I'm starting to understand better how something designed to fall over has remained a staple of transportation for over a hundred years, even in the hands of uncoordinated dopes. It actually takes a directed effort to put one of these down it's rolling. But of course a neophyte is overcontrolling the bars and throttle, and puts in a lot of directed effort without experience of which directed effort will work, basically flying it into the ground.
The scariest part of the roller-coaster ride was realizing that I was enjoying it. Although, I did avoid the twisty portion of the direct route home and jogged to a straight, flat road. Though the jog put me through what I'd estimate was a 110 mph gusting headwind, including the speed of the bike. Which was itself a phenomenal experience.
I bet I go out tomorrow and have almost zero fear of losing control or traction, and don't even notice the wobbling on the scored concrete.
----
Oh yeah. I did the wild ride at night. But it wasn't my first night ride. That was actually last night. I needed a couple of things from the store, so I took my bike, just to get in that first night ride. Distracted tonight by the wind, I hardly noticed the dark. I switched between low- and high-beams a couple of times, but had no sense that it was any different from driving at night in a car.
----
And I'm already looking at (pictures of) bigger bikes...
Two snafus and a wild ride.
Snafu 1: coming home from lunch, I stopped by the guitar store to get some strings and picks, and felt way too cool pulling out of the parking lot. So of course I almost ran out of gas a mile later, but noticed the extra popping and the sudden loss of power - and this time almost a sputter - and twisted the fuel valve on. Duh.
Snafu 2: can't quite remember the exact situation now, but I've got a note from earlier that I'd missed 1st gear on a takeoff. Sometimes for no reason the bike goes to neutral instead of down to 1st when I downshift while braking to a stop. I don't notice because I don't let out the clutch in 1st while slowing; standard procedure. Standard, but on this bike maybe not so smart. I do remember that it stuck me in the lane I was crossing watching cars coming at me. But, I'm still not taking risks so the cars were a reasonably ridiculous distance away.
Wild ride: I was at a buddy's house for a basketball playoff party; and his band was playing his own backyard, so it was a good time, even though I did NO DRINKING. But the Arizona version of weather kicked in, and we got gusting winds, and it looked like it might rain, so I had to beat it home so I wouldn't get wet. I didn't get wet, but it was my first experience with high crosswinds.
Very interesting dynamics. Someone in another thread said something about feeling like the bike would go down. It sorta felt that way the first few gusts, but then I got what the bike was doing. It was taking the wheels to the lee side to provide stabilizing force against the wind. Without any conscious effort from me, the bike was keeping itself upright. My inputs were merely maintaining my course.
I'm starting to understand better how something designed to fall over has remained a staple of transportation for over a hundred years, even in the hands of uncoordinated dopes. It actually takes a directed effort to put one of these down it's rolling. But of course a neophyte is overcontrolling the bars and throttle, and puts in a lot of directed effort without experience of which directed effort will work, basically flying it into the ground.
The scariest part of the roller-coaster ride was realizing that I was enjoying it. Although, I did avoid the twisty portion of the direct route home and jogged to a straight, flat road. Though the jog put me through what I'd estimate was a 110 mph gusting headwind, including the speed of the bike. Which was itself a phenomenal experience.
I bet I go out tomorrow and have almost zero fear of losing control or traction, and don't even notice the wobbling on the scored concrete.
----
Oh yeah. I did the wild ride at night. But it wasn't my first night ride. That was actually last night. I needed a couple of things from the store, so I took my bike, just to get in that first night ride. Distracted tonight by the wind, I hardly noticed the dark. I switched between low- and high-beams a couple of times, but had no sense that it was any different from driving at night in a car.
----
And I'm already looking at (pictures of) bigger bikes...
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Nice, uneventful day.
Saw a lot of riders out. Lots of 2-ups, and 2- and 3-bike packs. Waved to everyone, got waves from everyone I could see well enough to tell.
On the ride home I practiced keeping to one side of the lane, including corners at intersections. Looks like a good way to practice perimeters is to pretend there's another bike owning the outside half of the turn.
As expected, I didn't notice the instability on the scored concrete. It was there, but I didn't perceive it as a threat. I did notice a tendency to make a curve a hair wider than expected. I wouldn't call that a traction issue, as I expect I could hold just as much lean on that as I could on asphalt; but the ridges cause the curve to slowly work its way outward for a given lean.
And I began to think. The metaphor of "iron horse" is exactly right for a motorcycle. It's much too big for you to force to do anything, and it knows better than you how it works. You don't actually control one. You learn to suggest to it what it should do, and it does it the way it sees fit. As your experience becomes more detailed and your errors more subtle, you coordinate with your mount, the wind, and the ground to achieve exactly the same decision, often without making any decision at all. You go where you think, without thinking, but not without paying attention.
Lesson learned. By doing.
Saw a lot of riders out. Lots of 2-ups, and 2- and 3-bike packs. Waved to everyone, got waves from everyone I could see well enough to tell.
On the ride home I practiced keeping to one side of the lane, including corners at intersections. Looks like a good way to practice perimeters is to pretend there's another bike owning the outside half of the turn.
As expected, I didn't notice the instability on the scored concrete. It was there, but I didn't perceive it as a threat. I did notice a tendency to make a curve a hair wider than expected. I wouldn't call that a traction issue, as I expect I could hold just as much lean on that as I could on asphalt; but the ridges cause the curve to slowly work its way outward for a given lean.
And I began to think. The metaphor of "iron horse" is exactly right for a motorcycle. It's much too big for you to force to do anything, and it knows better than you how it works. You don't actually control one. You learn to suggest to it what it should do, and it does it the way it sees fit. As your experience becomes more detailed and your errors more subtle, you coordinate with your mount, the wind, and the ground to achieve exactly the same decision, often without making any decision at all. You go where you think, without thinking, but not without paying attention.
Lesson learned. By doing.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Monday, 2005/5/30 - Wednesday, 2005/6/1
I was thinking about graduating my blog from newbie to experienced, but a few things I've done this week tell me I need to keep the training wheels on a little longer.
Monday:
I took off a little too full of myself this morning. Tried waving at a bike in the cross-street while I was making a left turn, and I flared the throttle when I regrabbed the clutch. Doy. Did exactly the same thing waving at cross-traffic riders while I was going through another intersection. I've got to stop waving when I know I should be nodding or busy.
My tire pressure is down maybe a pound since I last touched them up. This is way easier to maintain than bicycle tires. Surprising, as bicycle tires have tubes and motorcycle tires don't. Marvin Minsky says he likes to stump Nobel Laureates by asking them "how does a car tire work?" Whoever invented the tubeless tire was a mad genius.
When I ran out of gas this time, I was 3 miles short of where I expected to switch tanks. I blame leaving the fuel valve ON overnight. It's really easy to tell from the smell in the garage, now. Funny thing is, I ran out exactly as I was stopping on the slope of my own driveway. Maybe the slope adjusted the effect. But I was detecting the signs that it was coming, so I was within a mile in any case. I need not to leave that valve on, ever, when getting off the bike.
Tuesday:
I took the 202 freeway all the way from 40th street to Price Road for dinner. Twilight out, dark back. The winds in this area die down a lot when the sun goes down, making for a significant lack of turbulence at freeway speeds.
Wednesday:
On the way to lunch I took the I-10 for a couple of miles. I managed to pick up both a tailgater and some crazy bimbo who decided to cut across two lanes to poach my frontal safety zone to make the exit. If intimidation weren't a crime - or, I guess, if I were a criminal - she'd have had a crescent wrench waggled under her fake nose.
With nothing better to do after lunch, I decided to finally go back over to Joeta's Leather in Mesa and order a size 44 tan jacket. I tried on the 42 and the 46 again, and, what the hey? My workout program must be doing alright, because now the 46 is about perfect. I was geeked, so I decided to get a vest as well, which also fits exactly how I want it (tight when the side-laces are pulled tight). And what do you know; for some reason I was remembering the jacket was $249, but it turns out to be only $199. And somehow they gave me a 10% discount, just because. Great stuff, great service, great deals. Huge selection and all the accessories you see in any of the online leather catalogs. I can't recommend this place highly enough. Well worth the ride over if you're within any sort of riding distance.
Rode the jacket home. As suspected, it actually kept me cooler in the sun and 95+ degree heat. But it significantly increases the drag on my torso. And at higher speeds the smooth, gently rounded surfaces get all Bernoulli. So the jacket lifts up off my shoulders.
Wore the vest to ride to dinner. Works great for keeping the flapping fabric down. I folded it up and stowed it in a saddlebag while I ate. I didn't bother putting it on for the ride home from the bookstore afterward. So my saddlebags were loaded with: folded up vest; dark visor in helmet bag; crescent wrench (for adjusting loose mirror); high-spf sunscreen; seat cover; and two books (one on PHP & SQL and the other on how to play guitar licks like blues-rock gods like Clapton, SRV, Buddy Guy, Jimmy Page, et al.) "Look at that trunk. You could fit three bodies in there."
On the way to dinner, I zoned and missed a turn, and had to take the I-10 to go around the (mile-wide) block. At the transition ramp from the 202, doing about 65 mph between two concrete barriers, with a pickup truck not far behind me, I ran out of gas. Caught it, switched to reserve. It's possible that I was within about 20 feet laterally and 50 feet vertically from the spot where I ran out last time, on the bottom of the same stack.
It's amazing how many gas stations let their pumps run out of receipt tape. Probably a side effect of having 20 pumps at every convenience store. And having one GED-squeakout droid to run the entire place. You notice these things when you're trying to track gas mileage.
----
I still have not found a single motor-cop who will wave back. I'll have to ask one if it's policy.
I was thinking about graduating my blog from newbie to experienced, but a few things I've done this week tell me I need to keep the training wheels on a little longer.
Monday:
I took off a little too full of myself this morning. Tried waving at a bike in the cross-street while I was making a left turn, and I flared the throttle when I regrabbed the clutch. Doy. Did exactly the same thing waving at cross-traffic riders while I was going through another intersection. I've got to stop waving when I know I should be nodding or busy.
My tire pressure is down maybe a pound since I last touched them up. This is way easier to maintain than bicycle tires. Surprising, as bicycle tires have tubes and motorcycle tires don't. Marvin Minsky says he likes to stump Nobel Laureates by asking them "how does a car tire work?" Whoever invented the tubeless tire was a mad genius.
When I ran out of gas this time, I was 3 miles short of where I expected to switch tanks. I blame leaving the fuel valve ON overnight. It's really easy to tell from the smell in the garage, now. Funny thing is, I ran out exactly as I was stopping on the slope of my own driveway. Maybe the slope adjusted the effect. But I was detecting the signs that it was coming, so I was within a mile in any case. I need not to leave that valve on, ever, when getting off the bike.
Tuesday:
I took the 202 freeway all the way from 40th street to Price Road for dinner. Twilight out, dark back. The winds in this area die down a lot when the sun goes down, making for a significant lack of turbulence at freeway speeds.
Wednesday:
On the way to lunch I took the I-10 for a couple of miles. I managed to pick up both a tailgater and some crazy bimbo who decided to cut across two lanes to poach my frontal safety zone to make the exit. If intimidation weren't a crime - or, I guess, if I were a criminal - she'd have had a crescent wrench waggled under her fake nose.
With nothing better to do after lunch, I decided to finally go back over to Joeta's Leather in Mesa and order a size 44 tan jacket. I tried on the 42 and the 46 again, and, what the hey? My workout program must be doing alright, because now the 46 is about perfect. I was geeked, so I decided to get a vest as well, which also fits exactly how I want it (tight when the side-laces are pulled tight). And what do you know; for some reason I was remembering the jacket was $249, but it turns out to be only $199. And somehow they gave me a 10% discount, just because. Great stuff, great service, great deals. Huge selection and all the accessories you see in any of the online leather catalogs. I can't recommend this place highly enough. Well worth the ride over if you're within any sort of riding distance.
Rode the jacket home. As suspected, it actually kept me cooler in the sun and 95+ degree heat. But it significantly increases the drag on my torso. And at higher speeds the smooth, gently rounded surfaces get all Bernoulli. So the jacket lifts up off my shoulders.
Wore the vest to ride to dinner. Works great for keeping the flapping fabric down. I folded it up and stowed it in a saddlebag while I ate. I didn't bother putting it on for the ride home from the bookstore afterward. So my saddlebags were loaded with: folded up vest; dark visor in helmet bag; crescent wrench (for adjusting loose mirror); high-spf sunscreen; seat cover; and two books (one on PHP & SQL and the other on how to play guitar licks like blues-rock gods like Clapton, SRV, Buddy Guy, Jimmy Page, et al.) "Look at that trunk. You could fit three bodies in there."
On the way to dinner, I zoned and missed a turn, and had to take the I-10 to go around the (mile-wide) block. At the transition ramp from the 202, doing about 65 mph between two concrete barriers, with a pickup truck not far behind me, I ran out of gas. Caught it, switched to reserve. It's possible that I was within about 20 feet laterally and 50 feet vertically from the spot where I ran out last time, on the bottom of the same stack.
It's amazing how many gas stations let their pumps run out of receipt tape. Probably a side effect of having 20 pumps at every convenience store. And having one GED-squeakout droid to run the entire place. You notice these things when you're trying to track gas mileage.
----
I still have not found a single motor-cop who will wave back. I'll have to ask one if it's policy.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Thursday, 2005/06/02 - Friday, 2005/06/03
Thursday
Sometimes, there is an end to the road. Two, in fact.
I was out riding today (only the blog can remember when I wasn't...) and found myself near enough to the Helmet Harbor store that it was convenient to swing by to finally pick up a can of helmet liner deodorizer.
When I left, I had nothing to do, so I ran up to Main Street and turned East. I rode through East Mesa and Apache Junction. When I got to Highway 88, I turned around. And I rode until I was in downtown Tempe. I suppose I could have crossed the river and followed it through Phoenix, Tolleson, and Goodyear, but really, it loses its identity when it joins with Mill Avenue. And the sun, which had been behind a friendly overcast sky all day, had come out, and I was starting to get red on my arms, so I made an executive decision and called it a run.
I kind of like Main Street/Apache Boulevard. It's seedy, but it's actively seedy, in a similar manner along its whole length. Lots of Route-66 era stuff still operating there (though Rte 66 is about 150 miles north of here, you get the picture). I also saw a few small motorcycle dealers that I hadn't known about before, too. I'll have to swing back through there when I'm ready to trade up. Logan's Valley Motorcycles, where I bought my bike (for those of you who don't remember the first few volumes of this blog), is on Main; or maybe it's Apache Boulevard by then. Nope. It becomes Apache a mile farther west, at Roosevelt.
----
Friday
Today I emphasized freeway riding. I took the 202 all the way to Price for lunch, then on the way back deliberately went from the 202 West to the I-10 North and got off at Warner to check on some work. It meant merging leftward, crossing an active lane that would have ended shortly after, which complicates its dynamics a lot, passing the busy Ray Road offramp, then merging rightward into the traffic coming from the Ray Road onramp. Technical stuff. Went without a hitch. Until I picked up another $!#%ing tailgater at the Warner exit. Time to start carrying a spike-strip dispenser on my rear fender.
The vest makes high speeds a lot more comfortable, and I found myself cruising at 65+ and rolling up near 75 in spots.
I got gas without running out, today, because I knew I was about to and there wouldn't be a convenient gas station on my route. But - and this is just getting stupid - the pump was out of register tape. And this time, the poor kid running the register at the Circle K told me she could do nothing about it until the guy who services the pumps showed up. Which he does once a month. Explains a lot about the serviceability history of that particular store, where there are almost always out-of-order bags on several pumps. It isn't strictly the closest to my house, and it's not technically in the right direction, so I don't think I'll have any problem never buying gas there again. Score one for the enlightened consumer who tells the corporation to F-off vs. the penurious middle-manager who cuts customer-service costs to get himself a raise.
Thursday
Sometimes, there is an end to the road. Two, in fact.
I was out riding today (only the blog can remember when I wasn't...) and found myself near enough to the Helmet Harbor store that it was convenient to swing by to finally pick up a can of helmet liner deodorizer.
When I left, I had nothing to do, so I ran up to Main Street and turned East. I rode through East Mesa and Apache Junction. When I got to Highway 88, I turned around. And I rode until I was in downtown Tempe. I suppose I could have crossed the river and followed it through Phoenix, Tolleson, and Goodyear, but really, it loses its identity when it joins with Mill Avenue. And the sun, which had been behind a friendly overcast sky all day, had come out, and I was starting to get red on my arms, so I made an executive decision and called it a run.
I kind of like Main Street/Apache Boulevard. It's seedy, but it's actively seedy, in a similar manner along its whole length. Lots of Route-66 era stuff still operating there (though Rte 66 is about 150 miles north of here, you get the picture). I also saw a few small motorcycle dealers that I hadn't known about before, too. I'll have to swing back through there when I'm ready to trade up. Logan's Valley Motorcycles, where I bought my bike (for those of you who don't remember the first few volumes of this blog), is on Main; or maybe it's Apache Boulevard by then. Nope. It becomes Apache a mile farther west, at Roosevelt.
----
Friday
Today I emphasized freeway riding. I took the 202 all the way to Price for lunch, then on the way back deliberately went from the 202 West to the I-10 North and got off at Warner to check on some work. It meant merging leftward, crossing an active lane that would have ended shortly after, which complicates its dynamics a lot, passing the busy Ray Road offramp, then merging rightward into the traffic coming from the Ray Road onramp. Technical stuff. Went without a hitch. Until I picked up another $!#%ing tailgater at the Warner exit. Time to start carrying a spike-strip dispenser on my rear fender.
The vest makes high speeds a lot more comfortable, and I found myself cruising at 65+ and rolling up near 75 in spots.
I got gas without running out, today, because I knew I was about to and there wouldn't be a convenient gas station on my route. But - and this is just getting stupid - the pump was out of register tape. And this time, the poor kid running the register at the Circle K told me she could do nothing about it until the guy who services the pumps showed up. Which he does once a month. Explains a lot about the serviceability history of that particular store, where there are almost always out-of-order bags on several pumps. It isn't strictly the closest to my house, and it's not technically in the right direction, so I don't think I'll have any problem never buying gas there again. Score one for the enlightened consumer who tells the corporation to F-off vs. the penurious middle-manager who cuts customer-service costs to get himself a raise.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Saturday, 2005/06/03
I dunno. I seem to be regressing in the attentiveness department.
Twice in one day I went out into an intersection I shouldn't have been in.
The first was just not seeing the car coming from the right. I guess I looked, and it was small and black and for the split-second I had my attention pointed that way it camouflaged itself between the bushes and light poles, because it didn't register among the bigger, brighter cars well behind it. And I was kind of hurrying because the pickup coming from the left was signalling for a left turn but wasn't near to the storage lane yet, and I didn't want to have to wait for him. I ended up blocking him, because as soon as I'd crossed to the center, I spotted the black micro-cage leading me like a Brett Farve TD pass: dealt out to nail me for the score. So there I was in the middle of the storage lane, an embarassed impediment who was damn close to getting waxed.
The second was about 10 p.m., after dinner with a friend who'd wanted to see my bike, cruising home through Scottsdale, taking in all the traffic just to be cool puttering past the Billet Bar. As if my second-hand, 600-cc training wheels would impress people who spend $2k on an air-cleaner cap and would drill into their pistons if it would get them more noise. Honestly, it was still kind of fun, as Scottsdale Road on a Saturday night is a motorcycle-heavy ride. Saw about 20 bikes rolling. Not one waved back (then or on the ride up earlier). I think they all buy their rides, bolt a giggly girl to the pillion, and don't admit their ignorance by asking anyone about friendly ettiquette. Either that or they're stuck-up Snottsdale tools who are scared to take a hand off the grip just to be nice. Saw about 80 bikes parked out front of the Billet Bar, which was about 8 times the number I was expecting. I was so busy marvelling at the scene, I didn't see that the SUV in front of me had expended the last of a yellow light and I was riding straight into a red. I snagged the brakes and ripped a fast reggie into the side street, echoing curses into my helmet. Luckily, the cross traffic was slow to start and I wasn't close to being flattened, but I deserved a ticket and probably a beating from my MSF BRC instructor.
Never lose your fear.
I dunno. I seem to be regressing in the attentiveness department.
Twice in one day I went out into an intersection I shouldn't have been in.
The first was just not seeing the car coming from the right. I guess I looked, and it was small and black and for the split-second I had my attention pointed that way it camouflaged itself between the bushes and light poles, because it didn't register among the bigger, brighter cars well behind it. And I was kind of hurrying because the pickup coming from the left was signalling for a left turn but wasn't near to the storage lane yet, and I didn't want to have to wait for him. I ended up blocking him, because as soon as I'd crossed to the center, I spotted the black micro-cage leading me like a Brett Farve TD pass: dealt out to nail me for the score. So there I was in the middle of the storage lane, an embarassed impediment who was damn close to getting waxed.
The second was about 10 p.m., after dinner with a friend who'd wanted to see my bike, cruising home through Scottsdale, taking in all the traffic just to be cool puttering past the Billet Bar. As if my second-hand, 600-cc training wheels would impress people who spend $2k on an air-cleaner cap and would drill into their pistons if it would get them more noise. Honestly, it was still kind of fun, as Scottsdale Road on a Saturday night is a motorcycle-heavy ride. Saw about 20 bikes rolling. Not one waved back (then or on the ride up earlier). I think they all buy their rides, bolt a giggly girl to the pillion, and don't admit their ignorance by asking anyone about friendly ettiquette. Either that or they're stuck-up Snottsdale tools who are scared to take a hand off the grip just to be nice. Saw about 80 bikes parked out front of the Billet Bar, which was about 8 times the number I was expecting. I was so busy marvelling at the scene, I didn't see that the SUV in front of me had expended the last of a yellow light and I was riding straight into a red. I snagged the brakes and ripped a fast reggie into the side street, echoing curses into my helmet. Luckily, the cross traffic was slow to start and I wasn't close to being flattened, but I deserved a ticket and probably a beating from my MSF BRC instructor.
Never lose your fear.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Sunday, 2005/06/05
Turned my saddlebag into a cooler. I needed to get an eye round home to make some chili, because it's been a few weeks since I made chili. So I bought a $2 "thermal lunchbox": really just a big zip-lock with a foil layer, and $4 worth of frozen veggies I'm going to eat anyway, and packed it all in with the 5-lb steer mcnugget. Took the freeway a couple of extra miles to get it all home sooner, and then found out that I could probably have stopped for a gatorade somewhere, because it was all still as cold and/or frozen as when I put it in there. And it was on the muffler side. Nifty.
Messed up by not wearing a second band in my ponytail. Ten minutes at 65 mph in a headwind? I'll be untangling this for a week. (It took an hour of concerted manual detangling...the ends were fine, but up near the one band I'd put in it was like a hundred little dreadlocks...)
Saw another roadrunner. This one got airborne when it ran from me and realized it was snookered by a bush. I've seen them do that to hop a wall, but this was pretty impressive. They're all over the place this summer. It's way too soon for the increased adult population to be the result of last winter's extra rain, so I don't know what's up.
Clobbered a small tumbleweed. I could have avoided it, but they explode when you hit them, so partly out of a sense that hitting it would be safer than swerving with traffic around, and partly just to hit it with certainty of how it will explode, and partly just for fun, I aimed and popped it dead-center. It exploded. And left several long sprigs in my undercarriage, which I got to bring all the way home. Next time I just swerve.
Tried out the seatcover with the bike parked in direct sun. I guess it kept the seat cooler, but it was still pretty hot.
Turned my saddlebag into a cooler. I needed to get an eye round home to make some chili, because it's been a few weeks since I made chili. So I bought a $2 "thermal lunchbox": really just a big zip-lock with a foil layer, and $4 worth of frozen veggies I'm going to eat anyway, and packed it all in with the 5-lb steer mcnugget. Took the freeway a couple of extra miles to get it all home sooner, and then found out that I could probably have stopped for a gatorade somewhere, because it was all still as cold and/or frozen as when I put it in there. And it was on the muffler side. Nifty.
Messed up by not wearing a second band in my ponytail. Ten minutes at 65 mph in a headwind? I'll be untangling this for a week. (It took an hour of concerted manual detangling...the ends were fine, but up near the one band I'd put in it was like a hundred little dreadlocks...)
Saw another roadrunner. This one got airborne when it ran from me and realized it was snookered by a bush. I've seen them do that to hop a wall, but this was pretty impressive. They're all over the place this summer. It's way too soon for the increased adult population to be the result of last winter's extra rain, so I don't know what's up.
Clobbered a small tumbleweed. I could have avoided it, but they explode when you hit them, so partly out of a sense that hitting it would be safer than swerving with traffic around, and partly just to hit it with certainty of how it will explode, and partly just for fun, I aimed and popped it dead-center. It exploded. And left several long sprigs in my undercarriage, which I got to bring all the way home. Next time I just swerve.
Tried out the seatcover with the bike parked in direct sun. I guess it kept the seat cooler, but it was still pretty hot.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Monday, 2005/06/06
I've found a cure for inattentiveness.
Let your battery almost die (again) and then have to ride straight home, fearing that you'll stall or kill the engine in some other way.
I was walking out of Jilly's. I'd stopped in just for some iced tea and to make some phone calls. Usually I'm in there eating and chatting with Shannon, the bartender, because she's hot and funny and friendly like a bartender should be. This time I didn't stay too long. And it was a good thing. Because when I got out to my bike I noticed the blinker was on (I was getting so good at cancelling signals, but today forgot about five times, including when I parked). Which meant the key was in and on. Which meant the lights were all on and the battery was going flat like the witch after Dorothy threw the water on her (which was an accident too, as Dot was just trying to extinguish the flaming scarecrow).
I hopped on, and tried to crank it. I got a slight wheeze out of the starter, but that's it. However, that was more than I had last time it died, at the Mystery Spot over near Baseline and 48th (you all remember that story). So I knew I could turn everything off, wait a bit, and get it started again, like I did that time. Of course, I also remember that my mistake then was thinking I could kill it and restart it immediately. So this time I wouldn't do that.
I walked across the street to Borders, bought myself a sugar-free decaf non-fat mocha (hey, it's the taste, not the drugs, that count) from their barrista (thankfully not a Starblech's) and purchased one copy each of Proficient Motorcycling and More Proficient Motorcycling. On first glance, I figured I knew most of what was in them, but I also figured I'd find things I didn't know, and things I'd disagree with, and be able to converse about them when they come up here on the TMW fora, which they often do.
Went back to my bike, got completely geared-up just to simplify things, and she fired up like nothing was wrong. Thus began the tightrope walk. I went straight home, keeping to a low-mid speed for the traffic, keeping my revs relatively high to help the alternator be productive, and making very careful stops, takeoffs, and gear changes so as not to risk a stall.
In the process, I found myself keeping a perfect line and making perfect turns, aware of every light and vehicle around me, and in the proper position for the traffic all the time.
When I got home, I took the chance of killing and restarting, and it started just fine. So I know I have some chance of being able to risk a stop after a ride after a start after a wait after draining the battery to a particular wheeze. The Chinese call a personal knowledge about the unwritten behavioral details of a system gong fu. We call it geekiness. I wonder if they feel the same about it and just use a more elegant term...
I've found a cure for inattentiveness.
Let your battery almost die (again) and then have to ride straight home, fearing that you'll stall or kill the engine in some other way.
I was walking out of Jilly's. I'd stopped in just for some iced tea and to make some phone calls. Usually I'm in there eating and chatting with Shannon, the bartender, because she's hot and funny and friendly like a bartender should be. This time I didn't stay too long. And it was a good thing. Because when I got out to my bike I noticed the blinker was on (I was getting so good at cancelling signals, but today forgot about five times, including when I parked). Which meant the key was in and on. Which meant the lights were all on and the battery was going flat like the witch after Dorothy threw the water on her (which was an accident too, as Dot was just trying to extinguish the flaming scarecrow).
I hopped on, and tried to crank it. I got a slight wheeze out of the starter, but that's it. However, that was more than I had last time it died, at the Mystery Spot over near Baseline and 48th (you all remember that story). So I knew I could turn everything off, wait a bit, and get it started again, like I did that time. Of course, I also remember that my mistake then was thinking I could kill it and restart it immediately. So this time I wouldn't do that.
I walked across the street to Borders, bought myself a sugar-free decaf non-fat mocha (hey, it's the taste, not the drugs, that count) from their barrista (thankfully not a Starblech's) and purchased one copy each of Proficient Motorcycling and More Proficient Motorcycling. On first glance, I figured I knew most of what was in them, but I also figured I'd find things I didn't know, and things I'd disagree with, and be able to converse about them when they come up here on the TMW fora, which they often do.
Went back to my bike, got completely geared-up just to simplify things, and she fired up like nothing was wrong. Thus began the tightrope walk. I went straight home, keeping to a low-mid speed for the traffic, keeping my revs relatively high to help the alternator be productive, and making very careful stops, takeoffs, and gear changes so as not to risk a stall.
In the process, I found myself keeping a perfect line and making perfect turns, aware of every light and vehicle around me, and in the proper position for the traffic all the time.
When I got home, I took the chance of killing and restarting, and it started just fine. So I know I have some chance of being able to risk a stop after a ride after a start after a wait after draining the battery to a particular wheeze. The Chinese call a personal knowledge about the unwritten behavioral details of a system gong fu. We call it geekiness. I wonder if they feel the same about it and just use a more elegant term...
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe
Tuesday, 2005/06/07 - Saturday, 2005/06/11
Tuesday/Wednesday
Pretty quiet. Focussed on getting my house painted. Hope it doesn't turn out pink. Again.
One fun bit, though. I went to the store for some stuff, and I zoned, and I got too much stuff. Not only that, but I forgot I'd left some stuff in my saddlebags from Monday.
So I got to discover what the extra holes on the straps are for. Both bags were stretched to their limits.
I suppose I should get some webbing so I can just tie my groceries over the pillion next time...
----
Thursday
Rode my bike to the gym for the first time. My gym bag (minus the bicycling shoes because I don't ride spin-class when the weather is warm and I can ride outside) scrunches into a saddlebag just fine. Didn't wear long pants for the first time (did wear gym shorts); didn't burn my leg on the exhaust; didn't crash and scrape myself up. Lightly travelled route, not very far (famous last words). Did wear a helmet and gloves. No jacket or vest, as I was staying under 50 the whole way. Wind chill may have been about 65F, more like 70. And, Evel help me, I wore sneakers instead of boots. I'll probably increase my safety profile if I do this again.
Got the primo spot on the sidewalk next to the front door where the other riders always park. When I came out, there was a Harley trying to park sort of next to me. This will be the only place I park on the sidewalk, because there's the perfect space for it that's out of the way of any foot-traffic; it really should be landscaped rather than paved. Maybe if I come on a place that has three or four bikes parked off the tarmac and there's a space I can take that doesn't get in anyone's way. But I'm not going to be one of those tools that just puts his bike in the way everywhere. I don't know what the deal is with them. Is it ego? or a fear that someone will steal the bike? Can't be about worrying that it will be accidentally dinged, because it's more likely to be vandalized by someone who doesn't like that behavior.
----
Friday
Not much going on today. Did a couple of deliberate perimeter turns without a wobble.
----
Saturday
Big day. Worth two blog entries.
Rode to the gym. On the way out, there was an almost identical Shadow parked near my bike. It was red, a '94, and had the original pipes; and it was in really bad shape. Dirty. The mirrors had been removed. A windshield mount added (no glass in it though). The guy's bags had melted really bad onto his exhaust. My bags are long and shallow, and his were narrow and deep. But the worst part was that his tires were almost totally bald. About an inch of thin tread remaining on each side. I should have gone back in and got a piece of paper and written him a note.
Tuesday/Wednesday
Pretty quiet. Focussed on getting my house painted. Hope it doesn't turn out pink. Again.
One fun bit, though. I went to the store for some stuff, and I zoned, and I got too much stuff. Not only that, but I forgot I'd left some stuff in my saddlebags from Monday.
So I got to discover what the extra holes on the straps are for. Both bags were stretched to their limits.
I suppose I should get some webbing so I can just tie my groceries over the pillion next time...
----
Thursday
Rode my bike to the gym for the first time. My gym bag (minus the bicycling shoes because I don't ride spin-class when the weather is warm and I can ride outside) scrunches into a saddlebag just fine. Didn't wear long pants for the first time (did wear gym shorts); didn't burn my leg on the exhaust; didn't crash and scrape myself up. Lightly travelled route, not very far (famous last words). Did wear a helmet and gloves. No jacket or vest, as I was staying under 50 the whole way. Wind chill may have been about 65F, more like 70. And, Evel help me, I wore sneakers instead of boots. I'll probably increase my safety profile if I do this again.
Got the primo spot on the sidewalk next to the front door where the other riders always park. When I came out, there was a Harley trying to park sort of next to me. This will be the only place I park on the sidewalk, because there's the perfect space for it that's out of the way of any foot-traffic; it really should be landscaped rather than paved. Maybe if I come on a place that has three or four bikes parked off the tarmac and there's a space I can take that doesn't get in anyone's way. But I'm not going to be one of those tools that just puts his bike in the way everywhere. I don't know what the deal is with them. Is it ego? or a fear that someone will steal the bike? Can't be about worrying that it will be accidentally dinged, because it's more likely to be vandalized by someone who doesn't like that behavior.
----
Friday
Not much going on today. Did a couple of deliberate perimeter turns without a wobble.
----
Saturday
Big day. Worth two blog entries.
Rode to the gym. On the way out, there was an almost identical Shadow parked near my bike. It was red, a '94, and had the original pipes; and it was in really bad shape. Dirty. The mirrors had been removed. A windshield mount added (no glass in it though). The guy's bags had melted really bad onto his exhaust. My bags are long and shallow, and his were narrow and deep. But the worst part was that his tires were almost totally bald. About an inch of thin tread remaining on each side. I should have gone back in and got a piece of paper and written him a note.
'93 Honda VT600CD Shadow VLX Deluxe