Step 4 Muscle Memory
This is the step we're aiming for when learning something involving physical movements. Which, coincidentally, we're required to do a lot of when riding a motorcycle. We want these physical actions to take a background role as far as the amount of concentration required to perform them. This is true of any of the physical skills involved. What we're really concentrating on, though, are the skills specific to accident avoidance. These include, but are not limited to, braking and swerving. If we want to be a bit more technical about the matter, we could include proper cornering technique and head turns.
In an interesting contradiction you could call this level of performance unconscious competence. We do the right thing without having to think about it on a conscious level. The movements required become automatic reflexes. Another way to look at it is to say they happen on autopilot. We should just automatically do the right thing. I'm sure you get the gist of what I'm trying to put across by now.
I remember Gramps teasing me at the supper table. He'd watch me eat for a while and then give me a big grin. Gramp would remark on one of my autopilot reflexes.
"You know, it's so interesting watching you. Whenever your elbow bends your mouth flies open!"
What he didn't specifically say was that the reason this happened was because I was getting ready to shove another forkful of food that I'd just liberated from my plate into my mouth.
An example from the world of motorcycling is in properly using head turns. Whenever we're preparing to change the direction of our motorcycle our unconscious reaction should be to automatically point our nose at the new target. Whenever we're faced with the need to apply maximum braking our autopilot response should be to apply both brakes smoothly with the proper modulation of front and rear brake. Believe me, this isn't the normal reaction. We have to work to get there.
So how does this happen? We talk about building the mind-muscle connection. We give it the fancy name of Muscle Memory. How many times have we heard that term? What does it really mean to develop muscle memory? How does it happen? What does it do for us?
Muscles themselves have no actual memory. The concepts of "brain" and "brawn" are always used to convey separate images. We talk about people blessed with one or the other. If we're really lucky we're blessed with both. Once upon a time I was one of those lucky ones. These days I look like a blocky desktop computer. Not much to look at but the processor and memory still work. Either way, you never hear somebody being referred to as having "brainy brawn". Which is a long ways to come back to saying that our muscles themselves have no actual memory.
So what's involved in this muscle memory thing? Think of it as taking a series of still life photographs and turning them into a movie. Individual actions are blended into one smooth movement. The actions are actually stored in our brains. Specifically in the cerebellum. I never even knew I had one of those things in my head before! I may have to explore getting a bigger helmet.
Here's an example from our basic classes. It's the process for upshifting. First we have the students sit on a non-running motorcycle. We break the process down into individual steps. We first practice each step by itself. As we move through the practice we have the students start blending the steps into one smooth series of motions called "upshift".
Here's how it goes. Roll off the throttle. Squeeze the clutch lever. Lift up on the shift lever. Ease out the clutch lever. Roll on the throttle.
Of course, that takes forever. We need to speed it up a little. So now we condense the process into buzz words. Roll. Squeeze. Lift. Ease. Roll. A bit faster but still not the automatic smooth response we're after.
Thus the time spent on the exercise where students actually practice upshifting while riding. For a while it can take nearly the whole length of the range to get into second gear. Pretty soon we start to see the individual steps merge into one smooth and fluid process. That's muscle memory being formed in the cerebellum. It's forming the individual memory of each step into a movie. Each memory is still stored as its own photo but the cerebellum creates the pathways that link the steps into one process.
Thus we get a couple of valuable clues on how to properly form these movies. Firstly, each individual step needs to be firmly and correctly imprinted into its storage space. Secondly, the making of the movie requires a lot of repetitions. The more we correctly repeat the drill the stronger the pathways linking the individual steps become. The goal is to create a near automatic playback of the stored memory of the required movements.
I've written this before but it's really appropriate for this discussion.
Amateurs practice until they get it right. Professionals practice until they can't get it wrong.
Did you get the idea that a LOT of practice is required? There's another saying that practice makes perfect. What should really be expressed is that PERFECT practice makes perfect. This is another value of professional training. Most training sessions don't allow enough time to perfect each skill. What the sessions do accomplish, however, is to show the student what each skill SHOULD look like. This provides the mental picture of the finished product. It's our target, if you will.
I think one of the reasons riders hold back from more intense skill practice is that it can be slightly intimidating. Thinking of the whole process involved in maximum braking, for example, can be overwhelming. When there's a number of different movements involved it can also be hard to self evaluate where the process is good and where it can use some help.
Knowing that the longest journey begins with the first step ( don't know why I'm spouting sayings today but there it is ) why not just take a step? We also now know that our brains still store the individual steps and links these together. Our brain doesn't store "upshift". It stores ROLL-SQUEEZE-LIFT-EASE-ROLL. Why not take advantage of that process and separate our practice into individual steps?
Here's how it can work. Pick a day that we're riding. To work, for work, for recreation, whatever. For that day focus on smooth braking. Just that step. It's simple and effective. It's easy to get feedback on how our brake application is because that's all we're working on. Smooth or not? Simple. Work on cementing the single photo of smooth braking. One correct memory stored.
Pick another ride and concentrate on putting your knees against the gas tank ( or fake plastic thingy up there ). Take the next ride and concentrate on the fine feel possible on the rear brake lever by using the smaller muscles of the lower leg and foot. The next ride can be dedicated to keeping our eyes up and looking well ahead while braking. After that concentrate on a progressive squeeze of the front brake lever.
This may all sound over simplified but it's exactly what our brains need. Remember that the overall movement is a movie made up of individual photos. The key is to make sure that each photo is correct for the movie theme. Once that's accomplished we then work on the whole. Ultimately it's going to require practicing the whole sequence together many times to establish the pathways. You'll find it much more effective and less intimidating having practiced each step individually.
Our goal is actually two-fold. Yes, we want the right movements to automatically be there, as it were, when needed. That's a very valuable component, to be sure. There's an even more compelling reason to get to this point. It's something we've probably thought about but never really delved into. That's the subject for an upcoming post.
Here's a hint: Action is always better than reaction.
Miles and smiles,
Dan
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday the 13th Special
I'm working to finish the last post in the series of gaining new skills. This will be the very important Step 4. In the meantime I came across this. I had posted it with permission in 2006. Some of you have seen this before but I'm sure you'll laugh again. If you haven't seen it, prepare to enjoy. For some reason it just seems fitting for Friday the 13th! This, by the way, is not of my originality.
Written by Daniel Meyer, author of a book called "Life is a Road, the Soul is a Motorcycle".
DISCLAIMER: If you're drinking something, put it down for the duration.
You've been warned. All punctuation errors, format, etc. are as I found 'em.
-------------------------------------------------
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighbourhood could be so incredibly dangerous!
Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more
decisions per second, and more sheer data processing
than nearly any other common activity or sport. The
reactions and accurate decision making abilities
needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter
pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor
situational awareness are pretty much the same for
both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting
to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight
training, my instructors called this being "behind the
power curve". It is a mark of experience that when
this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the
situation, and more importantly, does something about
it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set
things right again as it gives the brain a chance to
catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential
when riding a motorcycle, at least if you want to
remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to
keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and
as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very
heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally,
this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions
daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage
that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This
is not normally a big deal either, as it happens
around here often, but usually I can accurately
predict which drivers are not paying attention and
avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed
seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took
evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I
was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational
awareness, all within seconds. I was behind the power
curve. Time to get off the freeway.
I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew
pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighbourhoods as a new route
home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face
helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface
streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently
required when riding.
Little did I suspect.
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile
shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop
immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and
must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really
was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it-it was that
close.
I hate to run over animals.and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel
should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his
feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the
oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little
beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible
second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the
scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"
as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely
in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I
would have sworn he brought twenty of his little
buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and
tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As
I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding
gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for
concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather
gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street.and in the fight of his
life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to
snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil
rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into
the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended
right there. It really should have. The squirrel could
have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and
gone on about his business, and I could have headed
home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even
an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his
little hands, and with the force of the throw swung
around and with a resounding thump and an amazing
impact he landed square on my back and resumed his
rather anti-social and extremely distracting
activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.
His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of
the force of the throw, only having one hand (the
throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy
twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle
of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made
for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the
pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie
screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in, well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn
t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe
70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
residential street.on one wheel and with a demonic
squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are
both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my
other hand back on the handlebars and try to get
control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant
squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want
to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car.
Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the
throttle, my brain was just simply overloaded. I did
manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not
paying sufficient attention to this very serious
battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of
death), and he came around my neck and got IN my
full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed
partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite
sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It
seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned
about shifting at the moment) and her front end
started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt,
and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably
80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy
squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed
full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably
getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his
tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him
to the left as hard as I could. This time it
worked, sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in
the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at
probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody
murder roars by and with all his strength throws a
live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional
control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I
then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a
cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove
back). I really would have. Really. But for two
things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about
me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they
had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol
car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the
police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often
insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.
That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could
see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the
patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam
and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I
think he was shooting me the finger.
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a
patrol car.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made
an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced
with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers,
or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll
take my chances with the freeway. Every time.
And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves. ___________________________
Miles and smiles,
Dan
I'm working to finish the last post in the series of gaining new skills. This will be the very important Step 4. In the meantime I came across this. I had posted it with permission in 2006. Some of you have seen this before but I'm sure you'll laugh again. If you haven't seen it, prepare to enjoy. For some reason it just seems fitting for Friday the 13th! This, by the way, is not of my originality.
Written by Daniel Meyer, author of a book called "Life is a Road, the Soul is a Motorcycle".
DISCLAIMER: If you're drinking something, put it down for the duration.
You've been warned. All punctuation errors, format, etc. are as I found 'em.
-------------------------------------------------
I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighbourhood could be so incredibly dangerous!
Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more
decisions per second, and more sheer data processing
than nearly any other common activity or sport. The
reactions and accurate decision making abilities
needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter
pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor
situational awareness are pretty much the same for
both groups too.
Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting
to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight
training, my instructors called this being "behind the
power curve". It is a mark of experience that when
this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the
situation, and more importantly, does something about
it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set
things right again as it gives the brain a chance to
catch up.
Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential
when riding a motorcycle, at least if you want to
remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to
keep up with the machine.
I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and
as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very
heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally,
this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions
daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage
that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This
is not normally a big deal either, as it happens
around here often, but usually I can accurately
predict which drivers are not paying attention and
avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed
seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took
evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I
was not even aware was there!
Two bad decisions and insufficient situational
awareness, all within seconds. I was behind the power
curve. Time to get off the freeway.
I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew
pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighbourhoods as a new route
home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face
helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface
streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently
required when riding.
Little did I suspect.
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile
shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop
immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and
must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really
was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it-it was that
close.
I hate to run over animals.and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel
should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves!
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his
feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the
oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little
beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible
second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the
scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!"
as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely
in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I
would have sworn he brought twenty of his little
buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and
tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As
I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding
gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for
concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather
gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street.and in the fight of his
life with a squirrel. And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to
snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil
rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into
the right curb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended
right there. It really should have. The squirrel could
have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and
gone on about his business, and I could have headed
home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even
an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his
little hands, and with the force of the throw swung
around and with a resounding thump and an amazing
impact he landed square on my back and resumed his
rather anti-social and extremely distracting
activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all.
His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of
the force of the throw, only having one hand (the
throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy
twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle
of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made
for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the
pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie
screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in, well, I just plain screamed.
Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn
t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe
70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet
residential street.on one wheel and with a demonic
squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are
both screaming bloody murder.
With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my
other hand back on the handlebars and try to get
control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant
squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want
to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car.
Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the
throttle, my brain was just simply overloaded. I did
manage to mash the back brake, but it had little
affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not
paying sufficient attention to this very serious
battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of
death), and he came around my neck and got IN my
full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed
partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite
sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It
seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however.
The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned
about shifting at the moment) and her front end
started to drop.
Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt,
and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably
80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy
squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed
full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably
getting a little hoarse.
Finally I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his
tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him
to the left as hard as I could. This time it
worked, sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome
cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in
the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at
probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody
murder roars by and with all his strength throws a
live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine...
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional
control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I
then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a
cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove
back). I really would have. Really. But for two
things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about
me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they
had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol
car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the
police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often
insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway.
That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could
see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the
patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam
and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I
think he was shooting me the finger.
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a
patrol car.
I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made
an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood.
As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced
with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers,
or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll
take my chances with the freeway. Every time.
And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves. ___________________________
Miles and smiles,
Dan
Monday, May 09, 2011
It's Great to Know for Sure!
I want to make one more comment on Step 3 of gaining new skills before I finish off with the oh-so critical importance of Step 4.
Since it's been so long between posts let's take just a moment to re-establish continuity.
I've been posting about the four steps I've discovered happen when a person is learning a new skill. In this series these are skills related to riding a motorcycle successfully. I believe the same steps happen in other contexts but this is a blog about motorcycle riding. So we go with our strengths and interests.
Briefly, the first step is what I call finding out what we didn't know. Something new catches our eye and we want to try it. At this point we don't know what we don't know. Training and self discovery tell us what's lacking.
Step 2 is when we discover where we are in gaining these new skills. Mostly it consists of realizing that we really need some more work and practice!
Step 3 ( which is where we've gotten to in this blog ) is when we realize that we're actually starting to see improvement in our application of these new skills. It's perfectly natural and wonderul to do a little celebrating over our newfound competence. Which is what the last post was about.
Besides the joy of accomplishment there's another aspect to reaching Step 3 that I feel we should think about for a bit. It's a precursor to what happens in Step 4.
Ok. Enough Step 2, Step 3, Step 4, and big words. Here's the deal, plain and simple.
Wouldn't you like to know for sure that you can do something rather than just thinking you can?
Let me bring it home and lay it on the doorstep, so to speak. I'll use Katie and I as an example.
Katie is often on the back of my bike. She loves to ride. Sometimes I'll be sitting around the house on a Saturday. On those rare weekends when I'm not teaching, that is. I may have ridden a thousand miles during the week. I wouldn't feel deprived by not riding on a Saturday. Katie will suggest a ride. She's more tied down during the week and so weekends are her free time. Katie's a great passenger and I love having her with me and experiencing riding adventures together.
My lovely bride has an endorsement of her own. She took a class, passed the skills test, and got endorsed. We bought a bike for her. The vast majority of the time, though, Katie wants to be my passenger. Like I say, she's a great passenger and I love having her close. Katie, being an endorsed rider, is well aware of the risks. As am I. She's a great passenger because she understands what's happening as we ride. One time we were out on some country roads and riding Sophie. On a particular corner one day I gently, and on purpose, touched my right foot peg onto the pavement and held it there during the entire time the bike was leaned. Instead of feeling somebody frantically beating on my back, I heard:
"Man, that was soooo smooth!"
It's time to bring this thing home. Katie is excited about riding with me. Despite having a rider's awareness of the risk. Why? One, because it's extremely enjoyable. Secondly, she can relax and enjoy because she trusts my judgement and riding skills.
Here's my big question to myself: Am I worthy of that trust? Not just because I think I might be if the time came. That's conjecture. Conjecture may or may not save our bacon.
At the risk of sounding overly romantic, this woman is my best buddy. She's given me the precious gift of her love, friendship, and loyalty. Her being in my life has made it so much more awesome than it would have been otherwise. This is a woman whom I fiercely love and really love spending time with. Do you start to see the importance this girl has in my life?
I don't take this at all lightly. I don't want to just think I could do the right thing competently if I had to while we were riding. Conjecture isn't nearly good enough compared to the precious passenger blessing my bike seat. I want to know for sure. I know that time and unseen occurrence befall all of us. There are no magic bullets or protective force fields. On the other hand, I want to know that I have whatever skills may be required to stack the odds in our favor as much as humanly possible. If there is a failure somewhere I don't want it to be mine.
And I do know. I have actually done these maneuvers under real world conditions. I don't have to wonder if I can successfully swerve at highway speeds. Been there, done that. It takes a very firm press on the handgrip to make a bike move off line at speed. I know how much because I've done it at over 70 miles per hour. Two up, by the way. I don't have to wonder if doing a maximum braking stop at 35 miles per hour will mean I can still do it successfully at 65 or 70 mph. Hey, things happen at this speed. I've done it repeatedly at those speeds and higher. ( more on that part in just a bit )
Having ACTUALLY DONE IT, repeatedly and successfully, is a source of great comfort and satisfaction. Sure, I scared myself in the process. Yes, it was hard. But this is Katie I'm talking about. You get the picture.
How about you? Would you rather wonder or really know? I don't really mean it to sound like a challenge but then again I do. Sometimes it takes a challenge to get us out of our comfort zones. That's a nice place to be but it stifles growth.
I've been blessed with readers who have been regular here for years. Thank you so much for your support. Those who've been around awhile may recognize the photo above. It's a very long skid mark laid down by a front tire during a maximum braking stop at 100 miles per hour. Yes, this was me. Some of you may find this a little over the top. I wouldn't blame you. I don't have much to offer as an excuse save for the power of the moment.
The only thing I can say is that I now know I can do it. I will also add that I now know I really don't ever want to have to do it again. If you care to read about this adventure you can find the post here.
Stay tuned for Step 4. It's way more critical than we might realize.
Miles and smiles,
Dan
I want to make one more comment on Step 3 of gaining new skills before I finish off with the oh-so critical importance of Step 4.
Since it's been so long between posts let's take just a moment to re-establish continuity.
I've been posting about the four steps I've discovered happen when a person is learning a new skill. In this series these are skills related to riding a motorcycle successfully. I believe the same steps happen in other contexts but this is a blog about motorcycle riding. So we go with our strengths and interests.
Briefly, the first step is what I call finding out what we didn't know. Something new catches our eye and we want to try it. At this point we don't know what we don't know. Training and self discovery tell us what's lacking.
Step 2 is when we discover where we are in gaining these new skills. Mostly it consists of realizing that we really need some more work and practice!
Step 3 ( which is where we've gotten to in this blog ) is when we realize that we're actually starting to see improvement in our application of these new skills. It's perfectly natural and wonderul to do a little celebrating over our newfound competence. Which is what the last post was about.
Besides the joy of accomplishment there's another aspect to reaching Step 3 that I feel we should think about for a bit. It's a precursor to what happens in Step 4.
Ok. Enough Step 2, Step 3, Step 4, and big words. Here's the deal, plain and simple.
Wouldn't you like to know for sure that you can do something rather than just thinking you can?
Let me bring it home and lay it on the doorstep, so to speak. I'll use Katie and I as an example.
Katie is often on the back of my bike. She loves to ride. Sometimes I'll be sitting around the house on a Saturday. On those rare weekends when I'm not teaching, that is. I may have ridden a thousand miles during the week. I wouldn't feel deprived by not riding on a Saturday. Katie will suggest a ride. She's more tied down during the week and so weekends are her free time. Katie's a great passenger and I love having her with me and experiencing riding adventures together.
My lovely bride has an endorsement of her own. She took a class, passed the skills test, and got endorsed. We bought a bike for her. The vast majority of the time, though, Katie wants to be my passenger. Like I say, she's a great passenger and I love having her close. Katie, being an endorsed rider, is well aware of the risks. As am I. She's a great passenger because she understands what's happening as we ride. One time we were out on some country roads and riding Sophie. On a particular corner one day I gently, and on purpose, touched my right foot peg onto the pavement and held it there during the entire time the bike was leaned. Instead of feeling somebody frantically beating on my back, I heard:
"Man, that was soooo smooth!"
It's time to bring this thing home. Katie is excited about riding with me. Despite having a rider's awareness of the risk. Why? One, because it's extremely enjoyable. Secondly, she can relax and enjoy because she trusts my judgement and riding skills.
Here's my big question to myself: Am I worthy of that trust? Not just because I think I might be if the time came. That's conjecture. Conjecture may or may not save our bacon.
At the risk of sounding overly romantic, this woman is my best buddy. She's given me the precious gift of her love, friendship, and loyalty. Her being in my life has made it so much more awesome than it would have been otherwise. This is a woman whom I fiercely love and really love spending time with. Do you start to see the importance this girl has in my life?
I don't take this at all lightly. I don't want to just think I could do the right thing competently if I had to while we were riding. Conjecture isn't nearly good enough compared to the precious passenger blessing my bike seat. I want to know for sure. I know that time and unseen occurrence befall all of us. There are no magic bullets or protective force fields. On the other hand, I want to know that I have whatever skills may be required to stack the odds in our favor as much as humanly possible. If there is a failure somewhere I don't want it to be mine.
And I do know. I have actually done these maneuvers under real world conditions. I don't have to wonder if I can successfully swerve at highway speeds. Been there, done that. It takes a very firm press on the handgrip to make a bike move off line at speed. I know how much because I've done it at over 70 miles per hour. Two up, by the way. I don't have to wonder if doing a maximum braking stop at 35 miles per hour will mean I can still do it successfully at 65 or 70 mph. Hey, things happen at this speed. I've done it repeatedly at those speeds and higher. ( more on that part in just a bit )
Having ACTUALLY DONE IT, repeatedly and successfully, is a source of great comfort and satisfaction. Sure, I scared myself in the process. Yes, it was hard. But this is Katie I'm talking about. You get the picture.
How about you? Would you rather wonder or really know? I don't really mean it to sound like a challenge but then again I do. Sometimes it takes a challenge to get us out of our comfort zones. That's a nice place to be but it stifles growth.
I've been blessed with readers who have been regular here for years. Thank you so much for your support. Those who've been around awhile may recognize the photo above. It's a very long skid mark laid down by a front tire during a maximum braking stop at 100 miles per hour. Yes, this was me. Some of you may find this a little over the top. I wouldn't blame you. I don't have much to offer as an excuse save for the power of the moment.
The only thing I can say is that I now know I can do it. I will also add that I now know I really don't ever want to have to do it again. If you care to read about this adventure you can find the post here.
Stay tuned for Step 4. It's way more critical than we might realize.
Miles and smiles,
Dan