ART and Art ( sort of )

I taught an ART ( Advanced Rider Training ) course this week. This class was organized for a HOG chapter. Their Safety Officer also happens to be one of our instructors. She put the whole thing together and recruited students. A tip of the helmet to her. A double tip to the members who signed up. One or two had been through ART previously. Some had taken basic training when they got their endorsements. Riding time varied between a couple of years and three decades. What was really interesting is that, for some of the long time riders, this was their first formal training session.

Classroom was fun. What a great group of folks! They were obviously there to learn. Egos got put aside in the interest of skill development. As you can imagine all the bikes but one were Harleys. We had 17 Harleys and 1 Goldwing.



I had stashed a camera on the bike as I always do. For some reason I think I'm going to have time to make all these cool photos. What happens in reality is that we're so darn busy there's barely time for a snapshot. Like this one. Oh, well.

Dean W was also teaching. There were four of us on duty. While I taught classroom the other three were busy playing outside with a group of instructors participating in a cornering clinic. Since we have the track for the day we offer our instructors a chance to come brush up on skills.


Please don't tell Dean this, but I really value working with him. ( Don't want to make him have to buy a bigger helmet ) Many of us make it our goal to strive for excellence. I like to think I'm pretty sharp but Dean can sometimes out think me. I tend to make intuitive leaps while it seems to me that Dean is more methodical in his approach. It's a blessing to work with someone who can help me grow and also hold me accountable. Ok, you can tell Dean. If you value someone you should really let them know while you can.

Dean shared with me something one of our students had written about an ART class he attended. I thought it was worth sharing. Especially since some of you will know exactly what he's writing about, having been there yourself. Dean and I were both teaching this one.

Before I do, though, I wanted to make a quick mention of the other "Art" in the post title. Or temporary lack thereof. I'm playing with the backgrounds color and stuff. The goal is to find a combination that will help showcase the photos better. Since I don't seem to have time all at once to see it through, it has to be a work in progress. Bear with me. Suggestions are even welcomed.

Anyway, here is what the student wrote.

Team Oregon's Advanced Rider Training

Team Oregon's Advanced Rider Training (ART) is held on a go-kart track, with dedicated classroom sessions in the morning and riding drills in the afternoon. The ART is held at Pat’s Acres in Canby, Oregon (and a location in Medford, Southern Oregon) and is a 2nd to 3rd (touched 4th once, but only with a clear straight in front of me) gear challenging and technical little circuit. The ART’s syllabus is designed after mishap studies of Oregon motorcyclists; they found that crashes were not on the first, but the second or third corner. A training plan was formulated to link corners while giving a little bit of risk in the form of if you get the corner wrong, you get to play in the grass! With no speed limits, no left-turning cars, and a lot of really great technically challenging corners and professional instructors, this was the perfect place to learn how to link corners, and then polish those new found skills. The bike is not required to be track-prepped (tape off lights, pull fuses, remove mirrors, etc.), and the rider is required to wear armored jacket and boots.

The classroom sessions in the morning covered the basics of what motorcycle mishaps have in common: lack of cornering effectiveness. The instructors are straightforward, and relate how the material in the classroom can combat those trends. Delivery method is very professional and straightforward, with each subject clearly defined and how it impacted those in attendance. The material covered was applicable to on-street riding awareness, and the classic quote before breaking for lunch set the tone for the remainder of the day, “We want to drive the road; not the let the road, drive us.”

The track allowed different circuits for each drill, this way one could not get too comfortable with a layout, and have to really work the skills being taught to stay off the grass! The drills allowed for emergency skill polishing in a real environment, with real grass and trees, and the resulting risks associated with a real environment. Ever try maximum braking on a cambered curve staring at a three-foot diameter Douglas Fir tree? Hopefully you never will, but doing it during the ART sure makes the skill set that much more important. Throughout the day, the instructors offered ride-along’s where they’d point out when and where to look, when and where to be on and off the brakes, all while you’re sitting on the pillion!

The culminating exercise was an instructor follow-behind. An instructor would ride behind and critique you for two laps. This gives me the ultimate respect for the instructors, I’ve done this before and it is harder then you’d think, but the TO instructors handled this extreme multi-tasking job with professionalism and knowledge.

I found the ART to be everything it advertised itself to be, and more, the more being the environment of a closed-course, street-based curriculum.


You can find the website this came from here.

It's pretty cool to be involved in this kind of training. Right now, though, the sun is out and I have work to do. Get ready, Elvira, 'cause we're headed out!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

I got it!!!

This is the exclamation that often accompanies reaching Step 3 of gaining competence.

Step 3 is when a person realizes that they're making progress on mastering a new skill. Being stuck squarely in Step 2 a rider may be thinking that they'll never get it right. Attempt after attempt is made. During one try a certain element works but another doesn't. Next time the second element works but the first doesn't. Dang it, dang it, dang it!

Then comes the attempt when it all comes together at the same time. Good job. Do it again. And again. I love these moments with a class, be they beginners or more experienced. I never lose the joy of seeing the light come on. Nor in exulting with a rider over their conquest. Step 2 is so satisfying on two counts. Firstly, there's the initial thrill of victory at the conquest. Secondly, the peace of mind in simply knowing we can do something is priceless. We know because we've done it. More than once.

A rider can certainly learn and conquer on their own. As I've written before, however, in my opinion there's a big advantage in learning under the watchful eyes of professional trainers.



This is true for whatever level of experience we have. Here's a group at the end of a Basic class. They're feeling pretty pleased with themselves.



As well they should. These folks have worked hard to master the building blocks. On those blocks they've built some skills that will serve them well on the streets. On top of it all, they conquered a bitterly cold weekend. There's always more to learn, though, isn't there?



This is a group of more experienced riders. They're spending a warm afternoon brushing up on rusty skills plus learning some new ones. The skills being worked on are more advanced but that same joy of conquest and satisfaction is just as strong as the beginners. The satisfaction scale is actually probably a lot higher at this stage. Nothing like having a full tool box and knowing how to use them, is there?

Even professional riders seek out training from qualified instructors. Their investment of time proves that these riders find value in formal training and feedback.



An instructor can share with a rider some valuable feedback. One really valuable thing we might not think of is just plain positive comments. Knowing what we're doing right frees us to concentrate on other things. It's the typical, "I got that down, now I can work on this other thing".

Instructors can see things that the rider often isn't aware of. A great example is during maximum braking. There's more to the process than just a short stop without falling down. We practice under controlled conditions. The braking chutes are clean, if not always dry! There is no conflicting traffic. Students do feel a certain amount of stress and tension. It's nothing compared to what they'll feel on the streets when their maximum braking is done in response to a critical incident. In those kind of situations their technique absolutely must be right. During practice, however, the students can sometimes get away with less than perfect technique. Which is where the instructors come in. We help to make the technique perfect.

For basic riders we're looking for certain things like one smooth and progressive squeeze of the brake lever. That's pretty much what the beginner riders are capable of absorbing. As the experience level of the class goes up, we're looking at things more closely.



We watch how the front cowling progresses downwards toward the front fender, for example. Granted, some bikes don't have a cowling. Like certain Bonnevilles without tachometers in Key West, for example. Nonetheless, we know what to look for, even then. We can then offer very precise feedback for improvement.

While a rider may only be aware of how firmly or smoothly they're squeezing, instructors can break it down further. We see the initial squeeze. We see variations in the whole progression of the lever application. We see the end of the squeeze. Did you know that a rider can skid the front tire at the end of the stop as well as at the beginning? We can see exactly where in the process mistakes are made and help with some very fine tuning.

Same goes with the rear brake application. I've had riders ask me why they keep sliding the rear tire with too much pressure? On the surface the answer may seem obvious. One would be tempted to simply tell the rider not to press too much with their foot. There's more to it than that, though. There are dynamics involved that most people aren't really aware of.

Things like the human response to brace themselves for an impending impact. Isn't that really the thing that's on our mind during maximum braking? Sure, we're hoping to avoid the impact by stopping short of the hazard, but what if we fail? See, that's the thing our mind is thinking about deep down. We hope we stop but our deep primal urge is to brace for the possible crash.

In a car we brace with all four limbs. Or all we have, anyway. Two on the steering wheel and two on the floor. Both feet press hard. The left foot on the floorboard or clutch and the right foot on the brake pedal. In a car we want hard pressure on the brake pedal. Not so much on a bike. Okay, not much at all, really. Yet our brains tell us from deep down to press hard. Both from the motor skills we've picked up from driving and from the instinct to brace for a worst case outcome.

In answer to the rider's question, then, my answer would be to tell the rider to brace their knees up tight against the tank of the bike. With knees out, the large muscles of the upper leg are pressing down on the brake pedal. By pressing the knees hard against the tank, it both helps keep the rider down in the seat of the bike and forces the smaller muscles of the lower leg and foot into service. Since these muscles are less powerful but capable of receiving greater feedback from what they feel, much more control of the rear brake application is possible.

Again, I'm not saying that a rider shouldn't practice on their own. Just the opposite, in fact. Perfect practice is what makes perfect. There isn't enough time in a class to get to that point. On the other hand, there is a big difference between training and practice. I'll go into that in some other post.

Having trained under a professional, our practice is more productive because we're practicing the correct things. We move from "I THINK I got it" to "I KNOW I got it!"

That's where the real fun and satisfaction of Step 3 comes from.

I was going to tell you a story or two about a couple of individuals who are great examples of what this post is about. Going to have to save them for the next post, though. You'll really enjoy them, so please come back!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

"That skill could use some work!" aka That Sucked!

So it is when we are at Level 2 on the gaining competency ladder. It's that moment when we discover we're not all that good at a particular skill or skills. My desire would be that this discovery is made either during formal training or when practicing on our own. I sincerely hope that it's not after having done the wrong thing during a critical incident on the street. Sadly, though, this is how way too many riders discover that they're a few vital tools short of a well stocked toolbox.

After having missed my corner, washed the bike ( and a personal garment ), and ridden a little more, the urgency of getting some formal training subsided. It's so easy for us to justify things to ourselves, isn't it? I reasoned that it wasn't a fundamental lack of cornering and braking skills that had led to my mishap. Rather, I had simply made a single mistake and I'd be sure not to repeat that same mistake. What is it about guys and ego? Especially when it comes to something like riding a motorcycle. There's this pervasive thinking that guys are just naturally born with the inherent skill to do certain things. When this proves to be more wishful thinking than reality, ego prevents the admission of said truth. I'm sure that this keeps a lot of guys from taking advanced formal training. Ego and the fear of looking foolish in front of equally inept guys.

So a lot of chest pounding takes place accompanied by a figurative waving of clubs. There's a lot of noise but no improvement in riding happens. I reluctantly admit that I was a member of that clan for many years. Two more bikes came and went. I was three bikes removed from my previous unintentional off road excursion. I tip-toed through the streets and bragged by the campfire. Life would have gone on like that except for a visit from a particular man.

I was the Road Captain for a motorcycle club. The core of the group was comprised of L.E.O.'s. There was Larry, a lieutenant in the sheriff's office ( my supervisor, in fact ), Bob V. and Clyde who were also patrol guys, Bob W. who was a state patrol guy, and Jeff from a local city PD.

One morning a guy from a motorcycle training organization came to our breakfast meeting. He stated that there was this new program being offered to experienced riders. ( the newly launched MSF Experienced Rider Course ) This guy also stated that he thought we would all greatly benefit from taking the course. Yes, the guy made it out alive. On the way out, however, he had to run the gauntlet of several pairs of firmly crossed arms in front of chests below very stern and intimidating looks. The last words he heard from us on the way out were:

"We're macho cops. We don't need no stinkin' training!"

That's where it would have remained if not for Larry. A friend of his had taken the course earlier. Little by little the friend was getting to Larry with things he'd learned. Larry probably needed training more than any of us. Seriously. One example was a recent ride we'd taken. We'd stopped at a little store out in the middle of nowhere. The parking lot was gravel. The drop-off from the paved road to the parking lot was about 5 inches. Larry dropped his bike ( a standard bike with a Windjammer type add-on full fairing ) making the transition from road to gravel. In the process he shorted out his battery.

To show you all some mercy I'll make the long story short. Ultimately Larry and I decided to take the class. Although I do have to share another story ( but very short ) about our arrival at the training site.

The parking lot was cordoned off by means of flags strung between various poles and trees. Very similar to what you can see in the background of the photo below.



Larry picked a stretch of flags strung between two poles about 10 feet apart. Since the poles were close together the flags were fairly taut with no sag. Larry starts under the flags. He ducks his head. His short windshield cleared the flags. So did his helmeted head. Not so fortunate was the sissy bar sticking up on the back of Larry's bike. The flags were surprisingly strong. So much so that the flags against the sissy bar arrested the bike's forward motion. Larry fell over in the process of arriving at a course for experienced riders. Hmmm, maybe it was a good thing we were here!



I learned a lot about head turns and how the bike goes where you look. Look where you want the bike to go. Don't look where you don't want the bike to go. I was grooving on my newly developed low speed control skills. My face was wearing a big grin. This was fun. Until the instructor announced it was time to work on maximum braking. My south end puckered so much it pulled the corners of my mouth into a deep frown.

OMG!!! You want me to do what? The instructor repeated what had been said in the classroom earlier in the day. We were expected to use a LOT of front brake.

I was really getting pissed for a while. The instructor kept urging me to use more front brake on my stops. I kept thinking that this fool was getting his jollies by getting me to do something that everyone KNEW was dangerous. Hadn't they heard of how touchy and unpredictable the front brake was?

As I was waiting in line I was watching other students making much shorter stops than mine. Ego reared its head, but in a good way this time. I was determined that these guys weren't going to show me up. Larry and I had made no secret of who we were. The instructor had used that to describe how to apply the front brake. He'd said to squeeze just like we would a trigger if we were shooting for accuracy.

Guess what? I opened my mind and gave it a shot. Pun intended, by the way. I talked to myself all the way up to the braking chute. Eyes up. Wait for the cone. Squeeeeze and downshift. I made a fantastic stop. I couldn't believe I was still rubber side down but there we were. I had conquered my own worst enemy, which was me.

That day of training has probably saved my riding bacon several times over. Not only from the actual training day, but from the hunger for more. It was also this day that first put the notion into my head to become an instructor though years would pass before that came to fruition.

When we talk about motorcycle training we often think of beginners.





I want to offer something else to think about. It's often the riders who have two or three years of riding under their helmets that are in the most danger. This is just enough time for them to have been exposed to a fair number of real world conditions. We think we've seen it all; that we have it all dialed in, as somebody put it in a comment on a previous post. Complacency can keep us from digging any deeper into training. We may sincerely think we have enough skills to get by so we don't need more. After all, we've done all right so far, haven't we? In some cases we don't know what else is possible. In other words, we don't know what the next level might be. There's another reason we might not train like we should. I'll come back to this one in a bit.

There is always a next level. We never get to a point where we've seen everything. There's always something else out there. A rider should never cease to become a student. I've recycled some photos from an advanced class I really enjoyed teaching last year. These are great examples of seeking a higher level.








These photos are of fellow riding instructors seeking to improve their craft. In the first photo they are in search of the perfect demo ride techniques to better serve our students / customers. In the second is an example of an instructor seeking to master skills on his own bike.




These next photos lead us up to my parting thoughts for this post.

This is a parking lot exit at the south end of a community college in Eugene. As you can see, the slope is quite steep. I watched a guy on a motorcycle trying to deal with stopping on the hill, coping with other traffic, and getting underway. As he was getting underway he dropped his bike. I was watching him as I was approaching the same place myself. This was a very familiar place to me. Pretty much my whole first year of teaching motorcycle classes was spent at this location. I'd mastered stopping on this this hill long ago.

Finding a quick place to park Elvira, ( which is easy on a bike ) I went to help him pick up his bike. He decided to go around the long way rather than tackle this slope again. That was his usual practice. Rather than conquer the situation, he avoided it. This day he had been pressed for time and had taken this route with the hope that he wouldn't actually have to stop.




So here's the moral of the story, as it were.

In my version of gaining skills, Level 2 is a place of discovery. The goal is to discover what we're not particularly good at. Once we find that out we know what we need to conquer to have a complete skill set. We can find this out through our own efforts to practice riding skills. We can also do it through formalized training. I would much prefer that riders make these discoveries by participating in training classes conducted by professionals. Here's why.

Firstly, professionals have the big picture. Training classes are usually designed to cover all aspects of riding. A person on their own may not be aware of what they really need. Professional training provides the 30 thousand foot view. A rider may be at 8 thousand feet and climbing. That's absolutely commendable but the view isn't quite as comprehensive as the higher one will be.

Secondly, there's another factor. We don't always push ourselves in the areas that we should. I've never hit a ball on a golf course ( except mini-golf ) in my life and don't intend to. I do watch people, however. There are a couple of golf courses I ride by regularly. You know what I see the most?

Golfers on driving ranges. Trying to hit the ball as hard and far as possible. I'd venture to say that the majority of golfers concentrate on their long game to the exclusion of their short game. It seems to me that it's in the short game where matches are won or lost, not so much in the long game. Yet people continue to practice what's easy and "showy" rather than the things that come harder.

The same applies to riding a motorcycle in my admittedly not so humble opinion. If something is really hard for a rider or scares them, for that matter, conquering that skill always takes a back burner. I owe that original instructor a lot for goading me into effectively using my front brake. I wouldn't have gone out and conquered that on my own. Possibly to my eternal detriment.

Training teaches us what we need to practice. The question is this:

What will we do once we discover it?

Stay tuned for Level 3.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Musings on rider training.

On Saturday I had the pleasure of teaching a Rider Skills Practice class here in Albany. This class is similar to the MSF Experienced Rider Course. We help riders tune up their cornering, braking, and other accident avoidance skills. The afternoon was graced with perfect sunny weather and an awesome group of 10 riders.

This is the first course I've taught this year that wasn't a Basic Class. Being able to work with these more advanced riders was a great boost to my enthusiasm. These folks came in already possessing good skills. It was obvious that they were hungry for information and skill sharpening. By the end of the afternoon is was clear that this group got plenty of both.

At the beginning of the class our students complete a circuit ride. It's a series of exercises designed to allow them to see where they are coming in. The circuit ride consists of a 90 degree sharp turn followed by a barrel ride. The barrel ride is similar to what you see at horse events. It requires tight turns around a series of three cones. After the barrel ride comes a faster corner followed by a swerve. The swerve cones are set at 13 feet so it's fairly tight. A maximum braking stop ends the ride. This is not a pass / fail course. However, we score the run so the riders have a baseline.

Instructors have been known to get down on the pavement and wrestle over who gets to do the demonstration runs!

During the class we work on the individual elements with some extra skill work thrown in. At the end of class we do the circuit ride again, scoring the second run. Our group was a bit rusty at the beginning. By the second ride, they were looking pretty darn sharp. Huge improvement!

The benefit to the riders from the class is immediately evident.

As you can imagine, my teaching partner Aria and I were pretty busy. I did manage to get a few quick photos during the afternoon.

Near the middle of the class we spend a few minutes talking about some skills and strategies. Here's Aria and the group taking advantage of a shady outdoor classroom.

This was a very personable and enthusiastic group. I can't tell you how much I appreciated seeing them show such a direct contrast in attitudes toward training compared to most riders I see.

At the end of the day I was chatting with the group about whether we had helped them to accomplish their objectives. I found myself making this statement to them.

"Training teaches us what we need to practice."

If I say so myself, I find that a bit profound. There's two ways to look at that statement as I reflect on it.

Firstly, coming to training helps us to identify where we are in our skills. We find that some skills are pretty solid. We also find out which ones need some extra work. Those are the ones we should give priority to when we practice on our own outside of a formal training environment.

Secondly, the training shows us the correct technique to practice later. Practicing the wrong technique just reinforces a bad habit. Training teaches us the proper way to execute a skill. It's not solely practice that makes perfect. It's perfect practice that makes perfect.

I actually had a day off yesterday. After church Katie and I went and wandered the mall. We saw The Director in a store. Saturday's class must have been great for me. I found myself enthusiastically running off at the mouth about what a wonderful experience it was when we chatted.

Here's a sincere expression of appreciation to our students. You all provided refreshment to my soul when I really needed it. Thank you so much for your wonderful attitudes toward riding and training!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Images from a weekend.

This has been my life the past week or so. Just a running blur. Mixed in between were a couple of training classes. I thought it might be fun to share a few images from the classes with you. The photos are actually from two classes despite the post title. "Images from two weekends" just didn't flow right!

I'm sure it's no surprise that I have an ego. A pretty big one, actually. It's something I try to leave at home when I'm teaching students or training instructors. Yes, I'm darn good at a number of things. Riding a motorcycle being one of them. However, training is about "them", not "me". An ego can get in the way. So I suppress mine. Interestingly, sometimes it's somebody else doing it for me. Take the first night of class, for example.

In this case it was Thursday night. Sometime right after lunch on Thursday the skies started dumping rain. Having been out in the rain all afternoon, I rode to class. So, if you're a new motorcycle student, wouldn't it be important for your instructor to have credibility as a rider? At least, that's my story.....

Truth be told, most of the students don't even notice or care. They are so inwardly involved with their own processes there's not much attention left for anything else. Obviously, it's important for an instructor to have their students trust them, but that happens during the class. It doesn't really matter if the instructor rides or not. To the students, anyway.

I just like having the reputation of a rough, tough, hardcore rider. I suffer a lot in nasty weather to keep and enhance that reputation. Maybe I rode in the nasty rain and wind just to show off. Did I mention I have an ego? Well, my ego was just about to be shattered.

Pulling into the lot near the classroom I spot a familiar bike. Perhaps you will recognize it, as well.

There was the 250 Rebel belonging to Balisada. She has a picture of our two bikes on her April 1 blog post. Balisada says she was riding because her truck had a flat tire. Let me tell you, I see her out on a bike in all kinds of weather. Pretty darn often, too. I even have photos of her riding the Rebel on a track during our Advanced Rider Training class.

I was instantly humbled. My Grandfather used to quell my youthful boasting with a couple of things. As if he should counsel me about boasting! Anyway, one of his stories was about a sturgeon and a hen.

He would tell me how a sturgeon would lay thousands of eggs but nobody knew it. The work happened deep under the water in the dark. A hen would lay one egg then run around the farm flapping her beak about it. The hen got the most attention, but which one really accomplished the most?

Weird story, isn't it? Guess you had to be raised a cowboy to understand. Right afterwards, Gramp would remind me of how it was the empty barrel that made the most noise.

One of us boasts a bit on our blog and the other one just quietly goes about her business. Who's really hardcore, after all? I hereby bestow upon Balisada the new title of Iron Tigress. To totally understand this, click on this post. Check out her helmet. Seeing as to how Balisada has a playful side, perhaps she would prefer Iron Tigger. Take whichever one you want, girl!

By Saturday afternoon we had a temporary reprieve from the rain. Construction leftovers have left a bit of mud and debris hanging about. Yes, that's Balisada's bike again. She works for the college's Security Department.

This is 6 AM Saturday morning. So far only Elvira and I are on duty. Getting ready for the day.

Training bikes getting warmed up in the fog.

By Sunday we had rain, again. Same training bikes, different weather.

One of these things is not like the others! To the students it doesn't matter if we ride or not. To other instructors? Let me say that the driver of the Ford got a load of grief! Imagine, having the audacity to park by our bikes on top of it all.

There are always new groups of students eager and ready to go. Here's the group from one weekend.

Here's the group from the next. So many different personalities. I always think of myself as the catalyst that brings them all together into a harmonious whole.

These pictures are from our last exercise of the course. We set up a miniature city with plenty of opportunities for traffic interaction. The perimeter is one way to the left. Inside lanes are two way traffic. The center is a four way stop. Students have to stop before entering the perimeter. All twelve ride at the same time. We even expect them to use turn signals and cancel them. Imagine!

Static practice on the bikes on how to manage a turn from a stop and stay in your own lane.

The following photos are students riding the exercise.

By the way, a close-up of the TW's front wheel is the blog header photo at the moment.

Some instructors call this exercise controlled chaos. Sometimes the students get uncomfortably close to each other like below.

Instructors cast a watchful eye on the group to keep them safe. ( I'm playing with shutter speeds to create a sense of action and movement. )

Douglas is a long time fireman. Not much fazes him. He's a steely eyed missle man taking care of business.

Let's see. Controlled chaos. Close calls. Interacting with inexperienced vehicle operators while being inexperienced themselves. Sounds a lot like riding in the real world, doesn't it? That's the idea. This is the last stop before the students become endorsed riders the next day. We like them to have a taste of reality along with the chance to apply all the skills they've learned over the weekend.

When all is said and done, time for a nice cup of coffee to end the day. I'm at Allann Brothers Beanery. And you thought I only went to Starbucks, didn't you? Actually, I had a date with Katie and we like to sit outside on the patio when we can. Oh, yeah, I'm drinking the Storm Trooper Blend. ( actually, they do have a blend called Oregon State Trooper: State Police headquarters are just down the street )

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Expert skills; just physical?

Sorry for the lack of posts. Life gets busy and it seems blogging gets pushed aside. I feel sort out of touch with you all. It will be good to sit down and see what you have been up to on your blogs. In the meantime, I just wanted to put up a quick note. Sort of a preview, so to speak.

In what little free time there seems to be, I've been concentrating on this photography thing. I've found a few books that deal with digital photography. Maybe I'm just primed for something new but I'm finding myself really drawn into this thing. Blame Steve Williams. There's something about his photographs that are more than just a picture of a moment. In a small way I've been trying to emulate that. I find myself looking at things in a different way. Exposure is kind of a tricky thing, yet makes such a huge difference.

For a few nights I've been doing some night time security work at a volunteer construction site. A new church is being built. Since I get by on little sleep, I've volunteered to hang out from 3 AM to 7 AM. With a laptop I can actually get some work done. It works out well since the factories I deal with are on the East coast, three hours ahead of us. Rounds have been made with the Nikon and a tripod along. I've had the chance to play with some stuff. Just for fun I'm including a few pictures. Nothing spectacular, just new ways of looking at ordinary things during the early morning hours under the parking lot lights. The photos have nothing to do with the post subject. Consider them farkles.

Meals are served to the volunteer workers. Here's some bananas waiting to be introduced to some hungry workers.

Anyway, to the point. I've written quite a bit about skills. You may remember me writing things like this:

Your skills will only stay sharp to whatever level you hone them to.

We don't rise to the occasion, we default to our level of training.

And here's one I'm adding:

Amateurs train until they get the drill right; professionals train until they can't get it wrong.



Most of the time we associate these principles with physical skills. Of course, a rider really needs physical skills to be at the highest level possible. There's more to riding a bike than just getting on and twisting the throttle, though. Consider our definition of an expert rider:

An expert rider is one who uses expert judgement to avoid using expert physical skills.

So while a rider should strive for expert physical skills, developing expert mental skills is even more critical.

A couple of weeks or so ago, there was a huge crash on Interstate 5 in Oregon involving 26 motorcycles. One of the rescue personnel described the bikes as "falling like dominoes". Despite some critical injuries, there were no fatalities that I am aware of. The incident bears looking at to see what we can learn from it. Stay tuned.

Miles and smiles,

Dan