I had a different kind of ego-check recently.
I have felt a little defensive about having a smaller/slower bike since last weekend’s group ride and the track day last Monday. I got my back up about some of the riders (who were asshats, so I don’t know why I care about their opinion) sneering at my 250. I also got tired of being passed in the straights by people who were slower in the corners than me at the track.
Both of these are ridiculous reasons for wanting a bigger bike.
But wait! I commute daily on my bike! Sometimes (…like, um, once maybe?) I feel like I need more power! A 250 is too small on the highway!
Uh, no. Still not a good reason. Most of the time I have plenty of power, even on the highway.
Truth is, I believe that most people out there can’t ride their bikes to even 75% of their full potential – certainly not if they’re riding a modern supersport or superbike. Doubly so if they only ride it on the street. I want to ride this bike until I know that I can consistently come close to riding it to at least 75% of it’s potential.
That being said, Paul is thinking about moving on from the FZ6R. I like my bike more than he likes his bike. He’s not emotionally attached to the FZ6R, where I love my Ninja, and can’t think about getting rid of him (I want to keep him even when I do get something bigger). If Paul does decide to move on I’m not sure if he’d sell the Yamaha or if the Ninja would become a track-only bike. This isn’t going to happen this season, but it’s been on his mind a lot lately.
We went for a group ride yesterday with a huge turnout, there had to be more than 50 riders at the start, though of course we not everyone stayed for the whole trip. We met up at PRS to ride through the Mission back roads to Hope and then on to Hell’s Gate for lunch. We met up with Horace and surprise surprise: Chris from our PRS & ARS class was there with his friend Matt (also from the ARS). Chris took the lead of our group, and until someone pirated it from him he did a good job of keeping us together, especially in traffic and merging onto Highway 1.
The start of the ride got off pretty inauspiciously. We had a group of 11 that was fairly inexperienced and/or had never done a group ride before. We warned the group before we left (and reminded them when we stopped for gas on our way out) that all these groups of motorcycles were sure to attract police attention. We had a jackass doing wheelies (both purposely and because he couldn’t control the power of his R1) and the n00bs (who all claimed to have been riding for years but seriously? No way in hell. Or else they spend their time thinking twisting open the throttle on a straight road is all there is to riding) going sloooow through the corners holding up the back up the pack and then racing off at 130kph through the straights. Which meant that I eventually got dropped off the back of the group because my bike can’t get up to that speed from 50kph fast enough. A pace of 50-130-50-130 is just stupid. Although it was nice to not be the slowest rider in the corners for once. We had other riders breaking off from the group to race ahead and then merge back in, it was chaos.
I don’t know what it was about our group, but the antics made me extremely pissed. I don’t think I’ve been that angry in…I can’t even remember. Any group ride I’ve been a part of (as a rider or a passenger) has had rules about what to do (and what not to do) and being an asshole wasn’t tolerated. I know that I get (very!) cranky when I’m dehydrated and that was a part of it, but it was teetering between anger and tears through most of Mission and into Hope.
We stopped for gas in Hope and decided to head up to Hells Gate on our own. I needed some time to cool off (literally and emotionally) and drink some water. Horace left, also too pissed off to continue. Kramer invited us to join his group and promised a more reasonable pace – I don’t know if he saw that we were left behind (I think that’s what it looked like) or he picked up on how upset I was. Whatever the reason, we headed up with their smaller group.
After lunch we headed home with Chris and Matt and had a great ride home. Chris was frustrated with how the group had been acting and told them that they were on their own for getting back. Matt had been sweeping the group but got dropped because traffic got in front of him and he was about 20 minutes behind us.
What I learned: if I attend another of these events I’m going to go with my own group. Oh, and even though I know how to move off of the bike in corners, it’s not always necessary (See Dat’s rule about making corners straight whenever possible).
It’s been a while. New job is going well, but for the first few weeks the commute was really kicking my ass. The torrential rain was just freaking awesome. So was the windstorm on my first week. I used to really worry about riding in the rain, but it’s not a big deal anymore. Can’t say the Ninja has “never seen rain” now, I guess.
Paul and I did take Pacific Riding School’s Advanced Riding School. The track day was yesterday and I am stiff and sore. But the discomfort today was so worth it; I came away feeling (mentally!) great.
Theory was the usual fare from PRS: a lot of information presented in a way that wasn’t dry or boring, but interesting and informative. It was taught by Dat, who I didn’t get a chance to meet when I did the first course last summer. He’s a Canadiens fan, so I knew he had to be an alright guy, heh.
The track lessons were taught by Dat, Mark, Taro, and Kyle. Taro and Mark were our instructors last year, and Kyle is fairly new to PRS so I hadn’t met him before. I volunteered to be in the slow group with Paul (though he was put into a medium group after lunch), lead by Kyle.
Honestly, I was mostly hoping not to make an ass out of myself, and maybe pick up and apply one of the skills. I had doubts right up to and including the track day that I belonged in this course.
The first half of the day I made slooooow progression through the core skills being taught and applied. It started to rain right before we were to go into the track session for trailbraking, so we broke early for lunch hoping the rain would let up and the track would dry. We skipped ahead to throttle control, and I was the lone student in the slow group. As per usual for me, I was much better in the second half. I don’t know how I did it, but I started really feeling what I was supposed to be doing, and it just clicked.
I came away from the lessons feeling much more settled and in control of my bike. Now that I know I can do these things on the track, I can start to apply them on the street (in fact I did, on my commute today…) I feel much more confident.
All the instructors were so patient and helpful, and never made me feel bad because I was struggling. This is why I really wanted to do an advanced course with PRS because my first experience with them was so positive. I was the slowest one out there, but I don’t care about that. Here’s an example of the progress I made: I was complimented on my smoothness with the throttle…me, the girl who heard “slow hands, wifey!” yelled at her all the way through the beginner’s course.
I’d take this course again. I think it would be great to do it again at the beginning of next season as a refresher. There’s still so much I could learn from these guys even if it was the same content.
This past weekend was a glorious for riding. The sun was out, the temperature was just right, and the gas tank was full. We went out for a long ride out to UBC, then back through Richmond to White Rock, and then home.
Something happened while I was on that ride; I was flowing through corners and taking them at (the right) speed. I felt planted and firm on the bike. Things clicked! I was leaning a touch in corners, not fighting the counter-steer and I felt so good. Such a change from last weekend!
This week I’ve been off, and I’ve done some booting around on my own. I’m coming along with my confidence. I’ve had a lot of help from people at the Ninjette forum. They’ve been very encouraging, patient, and helpful.
There’s an Advanced Rider School session coming up next month that I’ve asked if I’m eligible for; I don’t meet the one-year experience criteria, but I have put a lot of kilometers on in 3.5 months of riding, and I ride every day. If not, no big deal…it’ll happen again.
Moto2 round 2 Jerez, Spain
Okay, Moto2 is crazy. Seeing those 40 bikes off the line and around the first corner is insane. The race at Jerez was really exciting, the battles and passes by Elías, Tomizawa, Lüthi, and Noyes were amazing. These guys were riding right to the limit of their tires…I think that if Tomizawa had had more rubber left he would have finished in first place.
The nine-bike crash was pretty spectacular. I don’t think it was caused by Tomizawa; his crash was from contact with Elias and the other bikes went down from oil on the track by the bike that went down earlier and “limped off” the track according to Toby and Jules. I can’t believe that no one was hurt in the aftermath; you can see riders getting hit by sliding bikes and one guy tumbled right off of his bike.
I’m glad that after the red flag the officials decided to start again with 17 laps…there was a WSBK race last season that was red flagged but both parts of the race counted as a portion towards the end placement of the bikes. It was confusing.
I never thought I would say this, but I think Moto2 is more enjoyable than MotoGP, at least in these first two races.
Feeling much better today, which is good because I had to wrestle with an uncooperative dog at work. Also feeling better mentally, too.
I’ve been given a lot of good advice and things to think about from Paul and my fellow Ninja riders over at ninjette.org.
What I’m going to do immediately is relax, and remember why I do this crazy thing: for the fun, the freedom, the joy that it brings. It’s okay to be a n00b! I have a fairly intense drive to be the best I can at everything, but it comes with time and practice.
I’m going to go to the next Pitt Meadows track day in the slow/beginner group, which gets help from the more experienced guys. I’ll do some more formal training when I’m eligible.
In the grand scheme of things, this wasn’t so bad. I got away with a few dings and scratches on myself and the bike and lessons about…well, a lot of things. Not to push myself so much; enjoy what I do well and work on the rest and it will come. Don’t brake on mud and grass. Make sure there is actually a shoulder on the road before attempting to pull off on it.
Went out for a ride this morning with Paul our friend Horace. It was threatening rain, but we figured no big deal. Went our usual route through Fort Langley…we were going to head into Mission, but I warned Paul that I wasn’t feeling up the the twisting road that gives me problems in good weather, so we decided to go a more “linear” way.
We made some turns and I realized that we were heading for a steep hill with some sharp twists, and I knew I just didn’t have the confidence today to do it. Paul disappeared around the first corner and I decided to pull over. I signaled, went over thinking there was some shoulder but instead hit grass and mud. I applied some brake and thought “oh shit, braking is bad!”. I felt the bike start to go…I fought it for a bit and realized we were past the point of no return (which was when I hit the grass and mud). I went down.
Horace pulled over and I struggled to my feet. He helped me pick up my bike (full of gas of course, so as heavy as it could be). I don’t know why I thought that I would be able to pick my own bike up, but until today I had the vague idea that I could. Nope. It may be light for a bike, but I still can’t move 375 lbs by myself. I know there’s a technique to it, but I didn’t know until know how to do it.
I was pissed. At myself, mostly. I did some minor damage to my fairing, but I was (and still am) furious with myself for doing something that damaged my bike. I’m okay; I think I may have bruised my shoulder from my landing on a rock, and my neck is a bit sore (it’s always sore, so there’s no surprise).
I guess I can’t say it’s never been dropped. The pictures are here.
We did make it to the Honda demo event, but I wasn’t feeling like trying anything out (I did consider it briefly but I wasn’t really in the right frame of mind and the only bikes they were taking new sign ups for was the DN-01 and the Silver Wing).
I need to figure out a way to get over the anxiety-causing mental block I have.
Tomorrow there is a Honda test ride event at a local dealership. I was invited to an exclusively-female BMW test ride event last weekend but I didn’t go. A friend of ours wanted to meet up with us for a ride and check out what’s available to ride so we’re going to head over and have a look. He has a VFR800 and I think he’s looking to compare it to the VFR1200. Personally, I think is an ugly bike unworthy of the VFR/Interceptor name, but I’m a huge fan of the old-school 1987 VFR750 so some people might question my tastes, heh.
Since I’m still in my first year of riding I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for me to test ride a bigger bike (because let’s face it, I’m not going to be looking at a CBR125R). I really like the CBF600 and I have it in the back of my mind for when I decide to trade up (though I’ll probably end up with the FZ6R, at least for a little while).
I’ve never been to a test ride event so I’m a little curious as to how they work. I guess I’d be more likely to swing a leg over a bike for a ride if I didn’t have to put a deposit down or be on the hook for damage, which I think is pretty unlikely. I guess it would be a good way to perhaps end up with a new, slightly damaged motorcycle…
Today I rode to work for the first time myself. I’d better get used to it, come mid-May I’ll be doing it every day.
On the way home there was another sport bike behind me on the highway, which answered my question: “if you’re riding on your own and you come up behind another rider, do you move over to a staggered position, or stay in position one?” The answer is: move over to position three and ride staggered.
The other rider wasn’t hurrying me, or anything, but I kept thinking things like:
Do I know who this person is? Am I going fast enough? Too fast? I hope I don’t look like a squid. Can he tell I’m a n00b? Oh god, I hope I don’t do anything stupid. I look like a n00b. Well, everyone was one once. Can he tell I’m riding a 250? His bike looks like a CBR, or maybe a GSX-R. I wonder if it’s a 600, 750, or 1000? His helmet looks kind of like Haga’s. Is it a guy? Yeah, looks like a guy. Do I look like a girl…?
I can almost never shut myself up.
Had a carload of teenage girls throwing their cigarette butts out of the car window on purpose to hit me. They lipped off to me at a red light, but shut up pretty quick when I lifted up my visor and invited them to come say it to my face. I may have brandished my gauntlet-ed fist. I most certainly did shut them up. I’m so hardcore, mouthing off to teenage girls.
One of the first things we learned when we got out to the lot portion of our riding lessons was that the instructors can tell how we’re feeling just by watching us on the bike. I was always being reminded (among other things) to relax and loosen up. At one point Kramer asked if I was trying to wrestle the bike into submission mentally and physically and I realized yeah, I was. I’d be better for a little while until the next challenge presented itself.
I have the best rides when I’m relaxed (yet aware) and letting the bike do it’s own thing. I have the most difficult rides when I fight the bike and try to make it do what I want – which is usually not the right thing. When I’m riding well it feels like we’re moving together. When I’m not it feels like the bike’s not responding…but it’s really that we’re out of sync…and it’s not the fault of the Ninja.
Being a novice rider can be hard and frustrating for me. I’m competitive, even with myself and not being able to do something well can really get me. Other new-ish riders seem to get it much more easily than I do, or at least that’s what their posts on forums like BCSB suggest. I know it’s not a race or competition to be the best, but it’s still sometimes a very frustrating and humbling experience.
There are times though when things are going well and I smile wide inside my helmet. I want to shout “look at me! I’m riding a motorcycle! Yay!” Those days it doesn’t matter that I’m still pretty terrible at cornering, or I don’t downshift to the right gear going uphill. I’m riding, I’m having fun, and I just took that corner a little better than I did the day before.
I think if my bike could talk to me, it would say “loosen up; I know what I’m doing, just trust me and go with it”.
I’m still learning to listen.
