Ride to Work: A Deeper Look.

I start off by asking Andy Goldfine to forgive me for using his trademarked phrase in the title of this post. It's for a good cause and I did provide attribution. This isn't a polished post and the photos aren't anything to brag to Art Wolfe about. I'm just letting this one rip and writing what's on my mind.

To all who rode a motorcycle on Ride to Work Day this year I offer sincere thanks. Rather, maybe I should say that Andy thanks you. Actually, we should all thank each other because we're comrades working for a common cause. I, along with a lot of you, have been observing this day for years. That is a totally awesome thing. As Paul Harvey, a radio broadcaster of much note in the USA ( and God rest his soul; he passed away a couple of years ago ) used to say,

"And now you're going to hear the rest of the story!"

Riding a motorcycle to work on Ride to Work Day is a great thing. After all, it's the riding to work that makes the day possible, right? I mean, if we all walked to work, for example, then it would be called "Hoof it to Work Day". Which could be confusing because we'd not know if the day were about, cows, sheep, pigs, or whatever. Can't you just see a Ride Your Hog to Work Day? Would that be HOG, Hog, or Hawg? Even though you could conceivably ride a real pig to work, there could be complications. Like getting home after lunch time, if you get my drift. I'm not sure how we got here, exactly. I think my visor is sealed too well and I'm suffering from lack of oxygen or something.

So what was the point? Oh yeah, riding a motorcycle to work. I'm crossing into that dicey no man's land of speaking for Andy ( who started this whole thing in the first place ) so let me offer this disclaimer that I'm giving you my intrepretation of what I think Mr. Aerostich is shooting for. By the way, you might be interested to note that it started as a cheeky variant of the Ride to Live, Live to Ride slogan. Andy's slogan was "Work to Ride, Ride to Work." Geez, take some guy with a weird sense of humor, put a twisted slogan on a t-shirt, and see what happens. You end up with guys like me spending, who knows how much time, supporting your cause. As if I didn't have other things to do. Like go research the cost of buying my own t-shirt silk screening machine. Now if I could just come up with some great sayings.

Like I said, riding to work on the designated day ( and hopefully more often than that ) is awesome but there is more we should be trying to do. We need to change people's perceptions of motorcyclists. More specifically, we need to help non-riders ( and maybe some riders themselves ) see the value of using a motorcycle for practical things like everyday transportation.

Here's a couple of examples of what I find out there. They are also examples of why we need Ride to Work Day in its full expression.



I encountered this woman, her kids, and her mother in a rest stop. She asked me where I was headed. The gal seemed disappointed when I told her I was on my way to a business meeting. I'm sure she had visions of two-wheeled adventure. It could be the fact that she was hungry for adventure herself being the mother of some very active kids. I grabbed one of her little tykes who was running to the restroom by himself while Mom was distracted. The trouble was that he was dashing in front of a car in the process.

It could also be that there's this stereotype associated with how I looked. A sleek sport touring bike with luggage. My Aerostich riding suit added to the look. People don't see "commuter", they see "traveler". Or, in my case, "Dashing Adventurer!"



I get this reaction a lot. Rest stops like this one in Wilsonville are a regular part of my routine. This stop is particularly valuable because a few minutes down the road lies the southern part of Portland. Some mornings will see us sitting in a traffic jam for a long, long, time. It's very prudent to drain a cup of coffee or two before such an encounter.

If Elvira were a mid-sized UJM with a milk crate strapped to the back seat folks might think "commuter". That's certainly not what comes to most people's minds when they see my sleek and beautiful Elvira, though.

These kind of impressions and stereotypes lead to bigger things. Like this example I encountered recently.



This is a photo I took early in 2010. I may have published it on the blog. Who knows? I'm over 50 and have too much on my mind to try to remember such things. The point is that this is a city street next to a state government building. There are many such buildings in this area. Being in the state capitol there are hundreds and hundreds of people employed in these buildings. A whole section was reserved for motorcycle parking. In a city where it costs to park, this area is free to motorcycles. Notice the nicely indented area, too. The bikes are well out of traffic with some safe room to maneuver. Elvira is by herself. On the other hand, it's a rainy winter day. You probably wouldn't expect many bikes that time of year.

However, when you would expect bikes there really weren't many. So much so that the parking area was changed recently. Now it looks like this.





There is still motorcycle parking here. In fact, there are nine spots. Notice how they're now all crammed into one end, however. The slots are much narrower than they were. Not nearly so friendly a place as it was. On the other end are now four parking spots where four wheelers can park. State government wants to be "Green". It's sad that the perception is what it is. How four cars or SUV's with car-pool permits can be considered more friendly to the environment than many motorcycles is a mystery to me. You know that most car pool arrangements are usually made of two people and seldom more. On the other hand, the four vehicle spots will probably see more regular use than the motorcycle parking area.



In fact, there doesn't actually have to be two or more people in the car for the vehicle to legally park here. I took these photos on a Friday morning when folks were just starting to arrive for work. A guy in a big Toyota SUV parked at the end away from the bikes. There was a sticker on the back bumper that qualified him for the spot. Except he was alone. I couldn't help but ask. You know me. One of these days I'll learn not to be so shy. I challenged him on the matter. The man told me that all you had to do was fill out an application and state that you sometimes had somebody else with you in the car.

I can't blame the guy for using the system that was in place. My concern is with the system itself. People in "official" positions do not see motorcycles as a valuable means of transportation when it comes to being environmentally friendly. They don't often see the benefits to the overall traffic system, either. We're still mostly seen as recreational riders and get treated as such.

So what can we do about it? We have to be hens and not sturgeons.

Ok, now I'm sure you think I've lost it. Let me explain.



I was riding for work and stopped to pay respects to my Grandfather. Like most parents he gave me a lot of advice. Some of it was shouted at me during heated moments. Other times it was disguised as sage expressions of wisdom. There's a mix of helpful advice and pure bulls**t so parents can get their own way. Control issues, you know. Scattered in the mix are things that you're just not sure what to make of. Like a little story Gramp told me once. It was started because of a noisy hen we had.

This creature would lay an egg and then squawk like crazy. Just like she wanted to make sure everyone and everything around was aware of the wonderful thing she'd done. One day I was told to pay attention.

"You see, she lays one egg and makes a bunch of noise. Makes sure everybody notices. Take a sturgeon, now. She lays thousands of eggs under the cold, deep, water. Who the heck ever knows about that? "

We were cowboys. We liked chicken eggs for breakfast. The rest of the day we were disciples of things that started with the letter B. Burgers and Beer. When it came to fishing we went to warm shallow ponds and stalked Bass. Neither of us had ever fished for sturgeon in our lives. Granted, mine had been much shorter than his. Caviar wasn't a word we knew although we used to go up to the hatchery and see Moe, the giant sturgeon once in a while. We knew fish eggs made good bait but our experience was limited to trout and salmon eggs. So I'm pretty sure Gramps was repeating something he'd heard elsewhere. There was still a nugget to be mined in there somewhere, either way.

I guess what Gramps was trying to tell me was that sometimes it paid to advertise.

That's the rest of the story behind Ride to Work Day, I think.

Not everybody can ride to work every day. Although more folks could do so if they put a bit more thought into it. Those of us who are hardcore committed motorcycle commuters have learned about the right gear and riding skills that enable us to do so. Share these with other riders so they can commute more, as well. Sometimes that's the only thing holding some back. Help them get over the hump, as it were. Others may decide to remain as recreational riders. That's totally acceptable. It's a personal choice, after all. There has to be some passion for riding that leads to our dedication to do something different than the majority of folks. My thought is to show everyone the possibilities and provide help to take advantage of them as needed. Then their decision will be based on facts and not stereotypes and such.

In the July issue of American Motorcyclist Magazine an article featured three riders who have made the decision to use a bike as much as possible. Andy Goldfine was one of those featured. In the article Andy is quoted as saying,

"By definition, motorcyclists aren't normal. The clinical term is 'non-normative', which means that riding a motorcycle is not the normal choice, because the default in our culture is cars."

This means that most folks aren't going to see the world as we do. They won't see the great benefit to riding. We all know about the mental benefits and the stress reduction that comes with riding. We know how riding a motorcycle asks so much less of the earth's resources. We know how many motorcycles can park in a space designed for just one car. We know how much better traffic would flow if there were a lot more motorcycles and a lot less cars. We know how riding makes us so much more self reliant and able to handle things that go wonky. The list goes on.

We know, but the general public doesn't. Sometimes as riders we can act like sturgeons in the deep, dark, waters. In other words, we quietly ride to work, park the bike, and attend to business. Then we ride home. Despite the great satisfaction we personally feel, it's not often seen by non-riders. One of the goals of Ride to Work Day is to get noticed. Hopefully we'll get noticed on a smaller scale all along. Make sure we spread the love, so to speak. One of the reasons for a formal Ride to Work Day is to call attention to the matter on a larger and very public scale.

Look at the Ride to Work website. On it you will find a lot of promotional material. These are designed to publicize the event beforehand. I think that's where we might be missing part of the point.

This is a gentle urging to take some time to look the website over. Think of ways to make our riding to work more prominent on Ride to Work Day next year. Could we get the local newspaper to run an article announcing the day? Do we have connections at local radio stations to get a public service announcement broadcast? There are promotional materials on the website designed to be given to city officials. Some riders get their employers to allow an extra long lunch break. At Hewlett Packard for a couple of years there was a part of the parking lot set aside for an informal bike show and bar-b-q. See the potential issue with Hoof it to Work Day or Ride Your Hog to Work?

Bottom line is that we need to provide education and awareness among both our fellow riders and non riders alike. People who vote. Officials who make laws. Employers who set company policy. At the very least we want to be taken seriously as people contributing to the well being of the planet and infrastructure. Having our employer recognize the smaller space motorcycles take up in the parking lot and giving us parking right next to the building wouldn't be bad, either. After all, not all of us are as fortunate right now as Troubadour, who parks right outside his office window.

This year I commuted over five hundred miles to a company meeting. I certainly got the attention of a couple dozen co-workers. That was cool but I need to do more to promote the event locally. So I'm making bigger plans to get the word out next year. You are all cordially invited to join me. Let me know if I can help.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

A Longer than Average Commute.

First it was optional. Then it became mandatory. Okay by me. I was looking for a place to go for Ride to Work Day. The Seattle area was as good a place as any. My commute to work would end up being a bit longer than average, though.

The optional part was a sort of going away gathering for Erick. He had been a Regional Director forever before moving up the ladder a bit. Corporate rewarded him for his years of hard work by giving him a cushy position from which to wait until retirement. That time had come. Also had come the time to say farewell. Since most of us were planning on attending the social event the Boss decided it would be a good time to get everybody together for a company meeting. Thus entered the mandatory part.

With the meeting scheduled to start around 1:30 PM Elivra and I rolled out about 8. I know, nothing like getting started promptly at the crack of noon. Who says adventures need to start before dawn? Most of mine do, but that's beside the point. There is nothing in the official Guide to Having a Motorcycle Adventure that specifies a start time. On the other hand, the official Guide to Being a Grandpa specfically states that you spend time with the little one(s) while you can.

I tend to ride in 150 mile or so stretches. Somewhere around 175 miles Elvira's looking for fuel, anyway. The plan is tempered by the ease and convenience of certain stops. Like fuel, Starbucks, and a Subway sandwich shop in the same place. Woodland, Washington is only about 110 miles for me but qualifies as a good place to stop on several counts. Including the Starbucks and Subway thing. The bonus is the Safeway fuel station with 24 hour availability as long as you have a credit card.



Since I only needed fuel and a pit stop we moved next door to the McDonald's. I can't understand why this chain is spending so much on rennovations. Seems like their name would draw people no matter what. My only goal here today was to go in the side door and relieve some pressure without having to take my helmet off. A bit easier here than walking all the way to the back of Safeway drawing attention.

North of Centralia is the Scatter Creek rest area. It's not all that much farther North from Woodland. It is, however, the last "easy" stop until I get to the office.



Since I'd be pressing through for the rest of the journey I decided to grab a table and enjoy my lunch feast.



A peanut butter and jelly sandwich takes center stage. I made the sandwich and wrapped it myself. Can't you tell by the way the plastic wrap is so tidy? Fig Newtons, pretzels, and ice water round out the offerings. The sumptious meal is set off by table decorations specially picked for a motorcyclist on the road. As you can see, there is even a table cloth color matched to the helmet. No need for a napkin. If your hands get messy merely insert them into the gloves and nobody will see the food stuck to your fingers.

Unfortunately, due to extensive road construction projects and heavy traffic I was running a bit short on time. I snarfed the sandwich, took a swig of water, threw everything else back on the bike and rolled.

I really love the 70 mph speed limit in Washington. Elvira's speedo is a bit optimistic. Her needle is buried at 80, the GPS indicates 75, and the speed limit is 70. I get to feel like I'm running at a brisk pace while still being mostly legal. Good stuff.

We arrived at the Mothership with 10 minutes to spare.



I do want to share a visual snapshot from the trip up before we go on. It's about a guy on a small scooter.

Here's the setting. North end of the Olympia / Lacy area. Interstate 5 around exit 109 where the big Cabela's store is located. I'm rolling along in the hammer lane but there's a bit of traffic keeping us somewhat slowed. Up ahead in the middle lane I spot a small blue scooter. Little by little Elvira and I gain on the rider. As luck would have it, we end up side by side for a while. Vagaries of traffic and all. The situation allows me plenty of time to look the scooter and rider over.

I'm no scooter expert but I can see it's an Aprilia Scarabeo. Mostly because "Scarabeo" is written in large silver letters across the side panel just under the seat. Plus I know that Aprilia makes the Scarabeo so it's pretty easy to deduce it's an Aprilia Scarabeo. Other than that, I'm guessing. I figure it's about 200cc or so. Maybe 250. I know there's a 500 but it looks big and plush. This thing was small.

Riding the scooter is a thin guy about my height. Short, in other words. The scooter has a temporary permit taped where the license plate would go. The rider has a shiny new full face helmet, a black Joe Rocket jacket with matching pants, and office type shoes below light brown socks. I guess after paying for the rest the boots will have to wait.

Anyway, there we are riding side by side for a while. I look over at him trying to make eye contact. I wave. I wait. He gives me a quick sideways glance but immediately turns his head forward again. Both hands stay on the grips. Unlike me with my cool black Rayban sunglasses, this guy is seeing the world through just a clear visor. Which means I can see enough of his face to figure out what's going on.

He's hanging on for dear life. Freeway speeds. Heavy traffic. 15 or 16 inch wheels on a small scooter with sensitive handling. I wonder if he's a non-rider who's decided to try scootering as a fuel saving measure. I hope it all goes well for this guy. Above all I hope he gets to the point where he starts to have fun.

The vehicle on the left in the photo above is the Boss' fancy SUV. Here he is checking out Elvira and the famous Aerostich Roadcrafter.



I always enjoy celebrity status when I ride up. I'm the "bike" guy. Although the images tend to get a bit mixed up. The Boss calls me Easy Rider which I'm sure he means as a compliment. Although I'm not sure about the birthday card he gave me. A few old geezers on choppers inviting me to join the Older than Hell Angels. Oh, well. Small price to pay for being able to ride for work as much as I'm able.

By 3:30 our meeting was over and we headed to the Lucky 7 Sports Bar for libations and farewells.

You thought there'd be a picture of Elvira in front of the place, didn't you? It would be the one and only, I'll tell you that. Truth be told, I seriously thought about posting one. On the other hand, my last name isn't Weiner or Favre. Nor is my first name Arnold. That's a photo that I just wouldn't want out there no matter the explanation. My bike is kind of unique with the personalized plate and TEAM OREGON Motorcycle Safety program stickers on the back. With my standing in the motorcycle training community I know better than to post a photo that could damage my reputation. Unlike the first two guys I mentioned. Unlike the third guy, I know when to keep things in my pocket, so to speak.

Fortunately the Lucky 7 is in a strip mall so I parked far away. This is all you'll get to see.

I've seen bikes in front of bars and made a snide comment on what they're drinking.

"Sure, they're in there drinking iced tea, right?" Snide wink to follow.

In this case I really was drinking iced tea.

Here's the guest of honor.



The G11 does pretty good inside with a high ISO and slow shutter speed. As you know, the interior of these kinds of places are not brightly lit. The only things "lit" are usually the patrons and the restrooms. Restrooms, of course, need brighter lighting so the lit patrons don't miss.

Seven o'clock had come and gone by the time things broke up. I was amped from drinking iced tea on an empty stomach. Time to head home. For the record, I did have a Plan B which consisted of an overnight kit and a credit card. Just in case.

I have to say I was really disappointed with the HOV lanes this time. On the trip up you know which lane I chose. Unfortunately, it wasn't a rush hour. Still, though, I somehow had the idea that HOV is some sort of secret acronym for a mysterious term that loosely translates to "go fast". Not the case this time. People get into the commuter lane and drive at exactly the speed limt. Don't you hate being passed by someone in the regular freeway lane when you're in the go fast lane? What is it with these people? Self-righteousness? Entitlement?

HOV hours are something like three in the morning until seven at night. Since it was after 7 and the rush hour had pretty much subsided, this lane didn't do me much good. However, I used the lane anyway. After all, riding a motorcycle entitles me, right? I was cruising along enjoying the elbow room. Until I nearly got my ass run over by a guy in a tiny white Honda car. Holy crap! It was surely a go fast lane now but I just didn't have the guts to run 90 in a 60 zone.



What I did have a stomach for was food. It had been over nine hours since I'd shoved any groceries down my throat. By 9 PM it was time. The sun was going down and gave things a golden glow. This is South of Chahalis at exit 72. Just so you know, Mike, there's a Subway at this exit.

It was dark for the rest of the ride. Which adds its own interesting element to the ride. For instance, there's this stretch of freeway below the Kelso / Longview area where a train track runs between the two sides of the freeway. It was really weird to look ahead of me and see locomotive lights headed right at me!

Elvira and I rolled into Portland around 10:30. On the South side of the city we promptly encountered more road construction. Crews are repaving the southbound lanes through the Terwilliger Curves. Three lanes narrowed to two which, in turn, narrowed to one. Who would have thought so much traffic would be out at this time of night?

Stop and go traffic would have been a blessing. Instead, we were treated to crawling along at about three miles per hour. In preparation for paving the existing roadway had been heavily ground and grooved. After working out the throttle hand all day the clutch hand would get a chance to catch up. Tired muscles wanted to tense up. Eyes up. Relax. Let the bike move around on the rough pavement. Just what I needed at the end of a long day. The clutch was never at rest during my constant balancing act. A couple of times I actually stopped and kept the clutch in for a very brief time. Sorry to the person in back who had to wait a few seconds. This is a lot of work. This is where I expect to hear from the scooter riders about not having a clutch lever!

I found myself thinking that a rider without a lot of experience would have dropped the bike by now. Think about it. Riding at a pace that's too slow for the bike to balance itself while being fast enough you can't really stop and get stable. Add in being tired at the end of a long riding day. Fortunately, after a couple of miles, we started heading uphill. I was finally able to let the clutch out all the way and modulate the throttle for speed control. Easier said than done with fuel injection.

After a total of six and a half miles we cleared the construction. This weird thought crossed my mind. Who the heck has to set out all those cones? I will never complain about the cones we set out during a motorcycle class again!



We rolled home at a quarter to midnight after a round trip commute of a bit over 500 miles. The temperature was actually about ten degrees lower. By the time I got the G11 out of my jacket pocket engine heat had begun to seep upwards.

Katie was already in bed when I crawled in an hour later. She immediately rolled over and embraced me. I could feel her relax with relief knowing that I'm home safely. She worries about me but accepts my need to ride. God has indeed blessed me with her.

Thus ended Ride to Work Day. Coming up I'll share something I saw in Salem last night. It caused me some dismay and really shows why we need Andy's Ride to Work Day and other attention to motorcycle commuters. We also need more folks to use their bikes more and be visible. There's a lot of perceptions to correct out there.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Ride to Work Day



Just a reminder that Monday, June 21 is Ride to Work day. I'm in a hotel room in Chicago and don't have much time for this post. However, it's important that riders use their bikes for commuting on this day. We need employers and co-workers to see how many folks ride motorcycles. Hopefully it will inspire others to ride. It can also inspire things like employers providing special motorcycle parking spots. There's more, but Andy Goldfine can explain it much better than me.



You can listen to an interview of Andy if you follow the link above. There's also more information. More from me later.

Miles and smiles,

Dan