Musings on connections.


The clock radio woke me up at 2 AM. It seems only minutes since I went to sleep. Thoughts of the early rising and facing the day ahead have made sleep fleeting. The radio announcer sounds as tired as I feel. Folks working the midnight watch are often at the beginning or the end of their careers. Not always, I guess. Some people like the third watch. Like Conchscooter who seems to enjoy haunting the dark streets on breaks. Either way, they're working the hours nobody else wants. Eager rookie cops run the streets in the dead of the night. Old and tired night watchmen work the same hours. Meager pensions need to be supplemented. I'm feeling pretty old and tired myself lately. All the work hours are taking their toll on me.

I've been summoned to the Mothership. These summons are coming more frequently in this economy. Corporate bean counters are in a panic. They've whipped themselves into a frenzy. Now they imagine a situation like in the photo above. I took a picture of a mural on a wall. It pretty much sums things up. Now we have meetings all the time to talk about how close Moby Dick has come. I guess they feel some comfort in group discussions. Unlike Captain Kirk, I have no transporter beam. My transport is rubber on asphalt. For hundreds of miles and many hours. I don't really want to go but I am compelled. I like my career and the freedom that comes with it. Freedom isn't really free, however. So I am once more making the trip.

Elvira's saddled up and we're on the road by 3 AM. You'd think there would be nobody else on the freeway this early. Once upon a time, but not true now. I'm fondly remembering the old days in Central Washington. Working the hours nobody else wanted. A side benefit was pulling the car to the side of the road. I'd turn off the lights on a clear night. There would be nothing but the stars, the man, and his God. These days I'm going to have to go much farther out to be closer to God.

Traffic's light enough to allow some pondering. A sane man would probably go up the night before. I've done that in the past. It means being away from Katie more. It seems I seldom see her as it is. If you believe the stereotype I'm not normal. Guys married for over three decades are supposed to like getting away from the wife. Being "normal" really hasn't been my thing. Why change now? I love being with Katie. Thus my day will be 19 hours long. 10 of them will be spent on the bike. That's not all bad. The ride home will require extra concentration. Driving rain and a stiff headwind are hard riding anytime. It will be especially difficult in my tired state. Elvira and I had a small misfortune on the return journey. Perhaps I will share it later. Now is the time to speak of other things. So says the walrus.

By 5:30 the day is just starting to dawn. Elvira and I are in Woodland, Washington. Her and I are both ready for some octane. Sophie would go all the way up on a tank of fuel. Elvira won't. She could go farther before we stop. Now is the time that works for me. I want to watch the sun come up over coffee. Actually, it's raining. I'll have to use my imagination. The frontage road has a Safeway fuel station and a Starbucks. The bike and I can both get what we need.

A dark haired girl named Annie greets me in Starbucks. Her hair is short around her face. Annie has dark eyes and a round pretty face. Annie is quite cheerful. Her dark eyes sparkle with barely contained mischief. Annie is the quintessential picture of a pixie. I warm up to her immediately. My being on the bike in the rain seems to capture her interest. She asks about my ride. Annie tells me she's headed to Seattle the next day. Some of her friends are going to a large zoo. Annie tells me she likes going to the zoo. However, she doesn't like the animals. It's an intriguing contrast.

Rolling once again, I think about Annie and her zoo trip. An editorialist in the newspaper made mention of a human zoo. Those who blog, tweet, and post on Facebook are the animals. Maybe it seems so on the surface. Maybe the writer has a personality defect. I take time to ponder that as I ride. Part of my brain is engaged in musing. Attention still needs to be on traffic in the rain.

I agree that ten minute tweet updates are a little extreme. I am an interesting person. Nobody needs to know what I'm doing each minute of the day. It would be arrogant on my part to think differently. My thoughts turn to bloggers. We are a diverse and interesting group. Tim in Utah stated once that we blog because we want to share. That's true. I share information in my blog. Does it really matter in the big picture? It does not. Then why share? Why do I feel compelled to keep blogging? Bear with me here. I am riding in the rain. It is still early. I am running on little sleep. Sometimes that is when we have our deepest insights.

I believe that humans have a need to connect with each other. There are exceptions. I am talking in generalities. Think about times past. Before our modern fast paced lifestyle. People sitting on front porches. Chatting with neighbors strolling by. Men gathered in barbershops. Church socials. Women gathering to quilt, sew, or preserve foods. Market day for farmers. People of like interests meeting each afternoon for coffee. These are but few of many examples. My musings tell me that our circumstances have changed. Our deep needs have not. I see now what the editorialist did not. Recent events have proven my insight to be accurate.

You may have noticed. I walked away from blogging for a bit. Too much time spent at work. Too little energy left after that. I've blogged for years. What is left to say? There's only so much riding wisdom to dispense. Only so many unique things to note. When I started blogging I was one of a very few. Now there are many. Who would notice the absence of a single voice? Such was my thinking. During my wet ride I was thinking of connections. That is the real secret of our world.

On our blogs we share of ourselves. It is not an effort to draw attention. I believe that we share for a different reason. I share so you will share. We are interested in each other. We reach out hoping that others will do the same. Learning about you makes my life richer. It is the essence of human contact. We learn from each other. We affirm each other. We benefit from each other. Often we are entertained by each other. Doing so in person is preferable. Today's world robs those opportunities from us. Thus we connect by means of the internet. Using cyberspace makes the connections no less valid. In some ways it can be richer. People all over the world can come together here. We come to know and treasure those we would never meet in person.

Blogs are about the connection, not the content. That's my two cents worth.

A new visitor to our blogs made a comment on mine. He had read many of the comments. One statement rang clear. He stated that it was evident we all cared deeply for each other. I didn't really appreciate to what extent. Until now.

I am deeply touched by those who expressed concern for me recently. It's nice to realize that one is missed. The comments have reinforced the value of the connections we have made. I was surprised by how many have made comment. My own son called to see if I was ok. As I am writing this I received an e-mail. Here's a snippet.

Dan,
I received this e-mail this morning from a student. Sounds like they are worried about you.


Hello,
Dan Bateman hasn’t posted anything on his blog since 23 April.
Is he OK?

This was forwarded to me from TEAM OREGON headquarters. The writer knows I am an instructor and used that means to check on me. I cannot tell you how touched I am.

So I end this with my gratitude. Thank you for caring. Thank you for sharing. Our blog based relationships are truly precious. Value them as I do. In the final tally that is what we are left with. Material things come and go. Personal connections are the true gems.

Today I am headed over the Cascades to Central Oregon. I need to rack up more paid miles to pay for my BMW. :) I'm looking forward to catching up on all your blogs. I've missed you more than you know.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

The things you see!

Riding to work is fun. Riding FOR work is even more fun. When you park your bike multiple times, there's no telling what will be next to your bike when you come back to it. Such was the case yesterday. How many can say they've come back to their bikes to find the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile parked next to it? I am now a member of that club. For whatever it's worth.

I spent Monday and Tuesday with the Boss. Since he spends a great deal of time on the cell phone, we have this arrangement. I drive and he talks on the phone. It works out anyway, as he's from Spokane and I know the local area better. The Boss is all for me using the bike for work. It is so cool to talk to him on the phone and tell him that if he needs me he'll just have to leave a message. Being on the bike, I just can't answer the phone. Where it gets tricky is when he's down and we're making calls together. I haven't figured out a good way to ease him into riding as a passenger on the bike.

"Hey, Boss! Welcome to town. Ready to ride Bitch?"

Maybe one day he'll get his own bike and we'll terrorize the town together.

I was finally on my own yesterday. Last week I'd purchased a new shield for my Arai Corsair helmet. The parts guy was close, but no cigar. I didn't notice until I got home and tried to mount the new shield. Yesterday was my first chance to get back up to Portland and exchange it. The dealer is Bob Lamphere's, the same place I bought Elvira. So far I'm impressed with their customer service. Anyone can make a mistake. There was no problem getting it corrected.

The dealer opens at 9 AM and I was there when the doors opened. What can I say? I'm an insomniac! Remember, it's a 70 some mile ride for me in commuter traffic. Getting into and out of the dealer fairly quickly, I headed across the freeway to the mall. Starbucks with hot coffee and a breakfast sandwich was calling to me. Finishing both, I emerged to find this parked next to the bike.




I've seen it a couple of times before. Or maybe there's more than one. Both times, though, it was passing me in the opposite direction on a freeway. This time it was up close and personal. Come to think of it, I hope the driver wasn't trying to tell me something! Don't you all dare, either!


By now the mall's open for business. Starbucks opens much earlier. It was interesting to see how many people stopped to take photos. I had the point and shoot small digital. The folks I saw were using their cell phones. I hung around a while but the driver hadn't emerged by the time I had to leave. It would have been cool to take a quick peek inside. Oh, well. You can take a virtual tour by clicking here.

I have to say the this is one case where DRIVING for work could be fun, too!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Rusty skills

The weather has suddenly turned warm. At least for a while between rain storms. When the sunshine comes out so do bikes. Who wouldn't want to enjoy a sunny day by being on a motorcycle? In my case I didn't get to spend much time riding. My weekend was spent conducting a couple of instructor training sessions up in the Portland area. I did, however, have a wonderful ride home last night among the backroads.

Many of the riders who are venturing out haven't ridden for months. Skills particular to riding have become rusty. I don't think folks actually realize how quickly things can fade when they don't ride for a while. The skills needed for driving a car have similarities to riding but there's unique differences. Rather than take some time to ease into riding while letting skills catch up, a lot of riders just plunge right in. Predictably, there's disastrous consequences.

A couple of weekends ago it was sunny and warm. There were a lot of bikes out and about. Unfortunately, we had four fatalities in this area as well. I really hate to see that happen. Today I checked my e-mail and there was the following dispatch from the Oregon State Police.


News Release from: Oregon State Police
SERIOUS INJURY CRASH - INTERSTATE 5 SOUTHBOUND NORTH OF EUGENE
Posted: April 19th, 2009 3:56 PM

A Medford-area man was seriously injured Sunday afternoon when his
motorcycle collided with a sport utility vehicle southbound Interstate 5
just south of the Brownsville interchange.

According to Oregon State Police (OSP) Recruit Trooper Tiffany Makin, on
April 20, 2009 at approximately 12:35 p.m. a 1987 Jeep Cherokee driven by
THOMAS C. OLSON, age 52, from Redding, California was southbound on
Interstate 5 near milepost 216 in the right hand lane following a 1996 Honda
Goldwing motorcycle operated by RICHARD R. GRAYBEAL, age 76, from Medford.

As the Jeep moved into the left lane to begin passing the motorcycle, the
motorcycle also began to change lanes and collided with the right rear
quarter panel of the Jeep.

After impact, the motorcycle and GRAYBEAL both fell onto the freeway and
traveled nearly 300 feet before coming to a stop on the right southbound
shoulder. OLSON was able to drive the Jeep to a stop on the same highway
shoulder just south of the downed motorcycle and operator.

GRAYBEAL was wearing a protective helmet and was seriously injured. REACH
Air ambulance responded to the scene and the southbound lanes were closed
about one hour. GRAYBEAL was transported by air to Sacred Heart Medical
Center at RiverBend in Springfield.

OLSON and his two male passengers, ages 14 and 15, were not injured. They
were using safety restraints.

OSP troopers from the Albany Area Command office are continuing the
investigation. Halsey Fire Department and ODOT assisted at the scene. One
lane was re-opened about 2:00 p.m. and both southbound lanes opened by 2:30
p.m.

Is this a case of rusty skills? I can't say for sure. Things like this happen in a car, too. However, the consequences of a mistake on a bike are far worse than when driving. The reflexes and skills have to be extra sharp. Good judgement is especially critical when riding. It does strike me as interesting that the SUV was mostly past the bike by the time the rider changed lanes. There's no statement regarding the relative speeds of the vehicles. It really doesn't matter. What counts is that nobody in the SUV was injured. In contrast, Mr. Graybeal was seriously injured and had to be taken to the hospital by helicopter. It's also unclear what gear he was wearing other than a helmet.

Whatever the case, here's hoping that Mr. Graybeal makes a full recovery.

There's a couple of reasons why I'm posting this.

No matter how long we've been riding, the basics are important. It's easy to become complacent about them. I see this with experienced instructors in their classes. The basic steps of range control can be somewhat glossed over as not important. You know what, though? No matter how long the instructor's been teaching, range control for safety still matters a bunch. The same applies to riding. Don't get lazy about the things that are vital in protecting us. Things as simple as making a headcheck to ensure our lane change won't crash us into another vehicle.

The second reason is that I would urge you all to offer your riding friends reminders. We all know people who haven't ridden in a while. Heck, there's a lot of bloggers who haven't been able to ride for months, as well, due to snow and ice. Ease into things. Ride where there's as little multi-tasking required as possible. Give the reflexes and motor skills time to shake off the dust and rust and come back up to speed.

I don't want to read about anybody having accidents. Especially not you and your friends!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Ending the ride...gracefully.

There's a song out called "100 Years". It's by John Ondrasik who goes by the stage name of Five for Fighting. The song talks about the fleeting moments of time. When you've only got a hundred years to live, time seems to fly by. One of the lines talks about how halftime goes by. Judging by that, I'm solidly into the third quarter.

Sometimes I wonder about how long I'll be able to continue riding a motorcycle. 10 years? 20 years? I can't say. What I do know is that, compared to the number of riding years behind me, the years ahead of me are relatively short. I'm not morbid about it. I'm still pretty healthy and don't see the end of my riding coming anytime soon. The reminder to me is to savor every moment spent on the bike. The more time that passes, the more appreciative I am of still being able to ride. Like I say, I hope to have a lot of two wheeled miles still to enjoy.

Life doesn't always work out like we might hope, though. I've often turned to the Bible for wisdom in living my life and in dealing with others. There's a particularly applicable scripture in Ecclesiastes Chapter 9 and verse 11. Not to get all biblical on you, but these are certainly words that apply in life no matter what our theological views might be. They were written by King Solomon. Even today, Solomon is used as a metaphor for wisdom. This is from a modern English translation.

"I returned to see under the sun that the swift do not have the race, nor the mighty ones the battle, nor do the wise also have the food, nor do the understanding ones also have the riches, nor do even those having knowledge have the favor, because time and unforeseen occurrence befall them all."

Life's circumstances can change suddenly. Sometimes we're forced to make decisions before we were really expecting to. In addition, we need to decide what kind of attitude we're going to have about it all.

Such is the case with Bryce Lee.

If you've been hanging around this blog for a while you may be familiar with Bryce. He's commented fairly frequently here. Speaking of which, I haven't heard from Bryce in a bit. I hope it's just because he's too busy to stop by. You see, Bryce is dealing with just such a situation I'm talking about. Bryce has Cancer and Lupus. These are enough by themselves. The chemotherapy treatment and side effects of the diseases have taken their toll on him. Bryce has another thing to deal with when it comes to riding. If I remember correctly, Bryce is somewhere around 7 feet 10 inches tall. This takes away some other options that might be open to shorter people like me!

Over time Bryce and I have corresponded on the side. We've grown to become friends. As things have progressed Bryce has shared updates with me. I try to keep him encouraged. In other ways Bryce has imparted wisdom to me in return. Recently Bryce shared with me that he has come to the decision to quit riding. He also shared some of the reasons with me. I asked for permission to publish his statements on the blog. Bryce graciously granted it. I use the word gracious with a special meaning.

When the time comes that it becomes clear I can no longer ride, I hope to be able to show the same grace and dignity that Bryce has. Truth be told, though, that time for me will probably be marked by the abundant throwing of tantrums and much pouting!

Anyway, here's Bryce's letter to me.



The reasons behind the decision:My own personal reality is riding a 28+ year old machine with accompanying parts (and eventually insurance) problems; combined with my own physical and mental failings due to Lupus and Cancer and continuing chemotherapy. A fellow female motorcycle journalist (Ms.Irwin) recently said I looked well, and I replied, "all the better for the eventual laying out in a box." :)

This simply means not having the Honda Goldwing or any other form of motorcycle. And then too the actual riding, controlling of a motorcycle means different parts of the body need to function. They don't and in all likelihood never will again.

It comes down to a matter of comfort.Am I comfortable with being on a motorcycle be it two or three wheels? Of late became tense, worried somebody in a moving vehicle, talking on their cellphone and /or drinking a coffee or smoking a cigarette will bump into me. At my age, any motorcycle accident would be traumatic.

And most likely fatal.

Before the medical diagnosis was already reducing my motorcycle riding. I have an A.T.G.A.T.T. (and a reflective vest) attitude, and as very warm weather has never been my friend, found full leathers were too hot and uncomfortable. And non-leather materials simply aren't made for elephantine sizings.Have looked for textile alternatives, they exist however the cost is far beyond my meager abilities.And these days having reviewed alternative machines including sidecar rigs, realize motorcycles are constructed for physically smaller, far more agile bodies. I don't qualify!:)

Motorcycling is a very personal thing! A pleasurable activity of the past with numerous friends riding and destinations elsewhere. Many of those friends now no longer ride or are part of this world. As we age, our friends slip away, mentally and physically.

The Goldwing is for sale, listed on the local Buy and Sell list. It will be listed elsewhere, am willing to dicker and accept a lesser price. I want it removed from my possession quickly and yet, it will be difficult to remove the black beast from my mostly pleasant memories.

1-UP (Bryce Lee),
Burlington, Ontario

To Bryce: No matter what your body is capable of ( or not ) we know where your heart is. Even if you can no longer physically ride, you will always be a motorcyclist. Thank you for sharing these very personal words. Of whatever use it is to you, please accept our collective thoughts and prayers for your recovery.

MIles and smiles ( hard though they may be to find at times )

Dan

Tranquility amidst chaos, II.

Having decided to walk off my meal by exploring, I took the Nikon, both lenses, and the Gorilla Pod. By the way, to answer Conchscooter's question about what a Road Warrior eats at Cafe Veloce, I offer this. A Road Warrior eats chicken. You know the kind I'm talking about. The ones that didn't make it across the road. Preferably in front of a motorcycle. Despite that proclivity, I'm not sure I'm ready to stoop to taking pictures of the poor deceased creatures smothered in marinara sauce and resting on a bed of fettuccini.

Speaking of photography, being the rank amateur that I am, enthusiasm overshadowed professionalism. In other words, the smart thing to do would have been to take the whole darn camera case. Using some sort of perverse logic, the result of hours in a motorcycle seat, I thought I would try traveling light. Or maybe it was that potent red wine that went down so well. The camera with the 18-55mm lense attached hung from my neck. The 55-200mm lense was in a small fabric sleeve with a pull cord attached. I could hang that from my wrist. I have hoods for each lense. The hood for the small lense was attached backwards so I could either use it or not. The hood for the big lense was in the bag. I thought I would be smart and attach the Gorilla Pod to the camera body. Seemed like a plan to me. It worked well for just walking, although the legs of the Gorilla Pod were now hanging down below the camera. The camera was hanging from my neck. You can imagine where the legs of the tripod were hitting me as I walked. The one bit of good news is that jamming the tripod against your chest helps a lot in keeping the camera steady! As long as you don't breathe, of course.

As you can see on the website for the hotel, they claim to be located next to a bird sanctuary. I could see the small body of water.


It became a destination for my journey. Sure enough, down a short pathway I came to a sign.

The website for the hotel also shows people sitting on a concrete platform. Hmmm, that's where everybody hangs out. This adventure was about getting off the beaten path. The sign indicated that there should be a pathway. It wasn't obvious from this point. More exploration was in order. I finally found it among some cat-tails and brush.

It looked promising. Best of all, it also looked like I wasn't really supposed to go there. So, being the prudent law abiding person I am, you can guess what I did. Down the pathway we go. For a bit all I saw were trees and brush. Not one to give up easily, I finally emerged at the lake itself. All by myself which is exactly the way I like it.

I had found my tranquility amidst chaos. All around me on the horizon were signs of big city life. In my little spot it was quiet and still. One of the things I've learned from riding is being open to letting life come to me without preconceived notions. Too many people make too much noise and flap their mouths way too often. They're full of themselves and their own ideas. Often times wrong ideas. They miss so much because they just won't shut up and be quiet. Taking the exact opposite tactic, I just stood there, listening and observing. Soon the world around me began to reveal itself.

A pair of Mallards, blending nicely into the reeds, were enjoying the day's last rays of sunshine. Scanning the reeds further, I saw this denizen of the lake also enjoying the sun.

The ducks were in range of the small lense. This turtle was far enough away that I needed to use the big lense. The photo is the result of the camera on the tripod and the lense at the full 200mm focal length. Sounds professional, doesn't it? Well, let me tell you the rest of the story.

Remember, I'm on a sort of rotting dock. There's some railings around me. The space between the railings is covered by some sort of old wire mesh. There are holes in the decking under my feet. Switching lenses requires some finesse. I have to put down the bag with the big lense. I need to push a button and twist the small lense off the camera. Now I need a place to put it while I take the cap off the end of the big lense that goes into the camera. Then it's hurry and put the big lense on the camera before anything gets into the camera body. Of course, this cap now needs to go onto the back of the small lense. That's just one end of the lense. The other ends have caps of their own. My plan is to put the small lense back into the cloth sleeve. But I'll want it again real soon. I find it goes well into a front pocket of my jeans. That sounds funny but it gets worse.

The Nikon is on the tripod which is somehow balanced on the 2 x 6 piece of wood that makes up the top rail. I think the whole idea of a tripod is to balance the thing on a large surface for stability. Due to the wire mesh, I can't wrap a leg of the Gorilla Pod around the board. If I had brought along some Gorilla Glue, as well, things might have been different. Anyway, I did manage to get it all worked out while I took some shots of the turtle. After about the third shutter press, I heard a small splashing sound. Looking quickly, I saw the turtle was still there. Must have been a small fish or something. The fabric bag was on the railing a little ways away from the camera. Now I see it is no longer there. Looking down, I see the bag floating nicely on the water. That would probably explain the splash. Inside the bag is the big hood for the zoom lense. Rats! ( or something like that )

It's not the end of the problem. There's wire mesh keeping me from just reaching down and retrieving the bag. Worse, yet, the water's clear farther out but not so much up close.

I finally found a small opening in the mesh. With the help of a piece of cat-tail stalk from the trail, the soggy and now green bag was finally back in my possession. I didn't care so much about the bag, but I wanted the hood. About now the turtle's slid off his perch. I could see the air bubbles of his laughter as he made his way to the bottom.

Now I have a useless lense bag but still have two lenses. I take one more photo with the zoom lense and the tripod.

Figuring that the rest of my photos will be taken from closer distances, I ponder my choices. Finally, I opt for putting the smaller lense back on the Nikon. Once more I do the intricate dance involved. Now the question is what to do with the long zoom lense. I try stuffing it into a back pocket of my jeans. The lense sticks up far enough that I'm worried it will fall out. In a move that would make a contortionist proud, I find I can get the long lense into a front pocket. Walking is now more of a gunfighter stance. Bowlegged and ankles wide apart. I was totally humilated when I emerged near the hotel once more. Several old ladies looked my way hungrily and threw their room keys at me.

At least the bunny on the pathway had the decency not to stare at me.

This bunny was getting ready for Easter. That's a very busy day for bunnies everywhere. They get into shape for the event by indulging in plenty of eggxercise!

I surprised a woodpecker trying to install an alternate entrance at the back of the pawnshop. The bird flew away but left the evidence behind. There were several other holes hidden behind the foilage of this tree.

Thinking back, if I'd of had Mr. Riepe and his prehensile periscope along, we could have taken a peek at what was in those holes. Although the pathway would have been a little rough for his fancy new scooter. The bellboy and I both would have had to push him along. Not to mention having to stop and explain over and over the difference between the rabbit and the turtle on the dashboard. Sounds too complicated to me. Maybe some things are best left a mystery after all.

So there you have it. A journey within a journey. Tranquility amidst chaos. That's the beauty of being a motorcyclist. We tend to make our own world, don't we? And it's an interesting one, isn't it?

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Tranquility amidst chaos.

As I mentioned earlier I was summoned to the Mothership for a day of meetings on Tuesday. I decided to go up the day before and spend the night. The other option was to leave home at 3 AM. I've gone that route and it makes for an extremely long day when the meetings end at 4 PM or so. The trip is a bittersweet thing for me. The sweet part is riding so far. It's funny how we all get a reputation for certain things. Among our group I'm known as the bike guy. Gee, I sort of wonder why. Whether to our retreat in Idaho or a trip to headquarters it's expected that I'll ride. I used to get ribbed about riding when I could be more "comfortable" in a car. Now I'd get ribbed if I didn't ride.

The bitter part is the location of our corporate office. A journey there means dealing with Seattle area traffic. Granted, we're not right in Seattle. Our office is in Kirkland. To me there's not much difference. The traffic and big city feel extend their influence over an extremely large area. Seattle's just the central hub. Traffic and activity funnel in and out in all directions. This post isn't really about that part. It's about finding the places off the beaten path. Tranquility can be found by one willing to wander a bit.

I do want to mention the High Occupancy Vehicle lanes, though. Motorcycles are allowed in these lanes, as they rightly should be. Sometimes that does me some good and sometimes it doesn't. Jammed up is jammed up no matter what lane you're in. Monday afternoon, though, found me in just the right time slot. One of the slogans I've seen is,

"If only the passing lane had a passing lane!"

Well, I'm here to tell you that this came true for me on Monday. It was so glorious! Mile after mile passed speedily below the bike and I. Once in a while we'd catch up to a bus in the HOV lane. No problem. We'd slide into the regular hammer lane and pass the bus. Then back into the HOV lane. We even busted a move on an old couple in a sedan. The old man had absolutely no friggin' idea that the whole point was to be able to roll a little faster. Okay, I admit it's a conservation thing, but we all have our own interpretations, don't we? All the driver knew is that there were two people in his car so, by gum ( sorry for the old guy pun ) he was going to drive in that lane. At an electrifying 52 mph. His interpretation and mine didn't match. So long, Buddy!

There's something about riding a motorcycle that puts us into a different state of mind than cagers. Sometimes that's bad. We're more likely to find ways to get into trouble, you know! On the other hand, or maybe just the other side of the same hand, I find myself so much more open to the world around me. I see more, feel more, and thus experience more, than when in a car. I find myself so much more willing to wander off the beaten path. The age old question. What's down there? Let's go find out. I'm not so likely to bother with it in a car or my truck. On a bike, in vivid contrast, I'm ready for adventure at a moment's notice.

I think most people who ride experience the same thing. Using a bike for regular transportation amplifies the effect. I spend a lot of time on a bike. So I also spend a lot of time in an open and inquisitive state of mind. It's become a regular trait of mine. Riding is a Zen-like journey. There's so much personal growth that comes as a result of, but not directly tied to, riding. Thus my journey Monday evening.

I found this restaurant in 2006 while wandering around Kirkland. Cafe Veloce, as you can surmise, is an Italian place. What makes it neat is that it features a vintage Italian racing theme. It's primarily focused on Italian motorcycles. In another life I must have been Italian. I love Italian food, at least. By the way, I don't currently believe in reincarnation but I did in my past lives. While I dined I got to drool over a new Aprilia on display. Word of my arrival into town must have spread. I pulled in a few minutes before six and I was the only customer. Just before I left a couple wandered in. The wait staff to customer ratio was most excellent.

Actually, I think everyone was enjoying the sunshine and doing something outside. I've put photos of this place in the blog previously. On summer nights the place is crowded with sport bike riders who park their bikes in the lot and eat on the patio.

If you look to the left of the cafe, you can see another building. It's called the Yuppie Pawn Shop. Handy in case you spend more than you have in your pocket on food and drink, I guess. Then, I got to wondering what the other building is. You can just see the peak of a roof in the background. Now I had to go see what's down there. Turns out to be a quiet little hotel called the Carlton Inn. It's the kind of place you'd never find unless you knew about it already or stumbled onto it when wandering. Kind of a familiar theme isn't it? Wandering on a bike often reveals unexpected gems.

It's interesting to read how they describe themselves on their website. I think Jack Riepe must have written that spiel! Anyway, I usually stay at a Comfort Inn. Now that I've discovered this new place I plan to change my habit. Again, word of my arrival must have preceded me. There was hardly anybody staying there. Can you say peace and quiet? In literal distance the hotel really is near the high volume buzz of I-405. On the tranquility scale, it's miles away from the hustle and bustle.

The actual hotel was more like a well maintained older bike. Clean and functional, easy on the eyes, and still exuding a little elegance. Here's a quick shot of my room. By the way, after spreading my stuff out, I couldn't believe all that crap was actually packed on the bike. It all went back just fine. Before I posted the photo I had to do a quick check and make sure nothing incriminating was visible!

The road to the hotel dead ends just past it. The building you see is a small condo. Look at how empty the parking lot is. This picture was taken through the window of my room.

I was able to park Elvira just below my room where I could make sure she wasn't up to any mischief without me. Notice that I'm not averse to the mischief part. I just want to be a part of it!

Here's me trying to be "artistic" with my photo! This is from outside the hotel. After dinner I decided to wander around on foot. You can call it exercise if you want. It was actually spurred by a guilt trip over all the chicken parmigiana I ate! Armed with my new Gorilla pod and the Nikon, I succumbed to a combination Steve Williams / Conchscooter mood. I was determined to get some good photos of the area around me. I wanted to be able to post some good shots with witty little comments on each. I was at least successful on the first part. Minding Steve's gentle coaching to go back to my firearms training, I literally told myself to "squeeze the trigger" on each shot. Thanks, Steve!

As to the comment part, I can't say, yet. You see, I seem to have reached some sort of threshold for the amount of photos Blogger will allow me to post here. At least I think that's what is happening. It refuses to let me upload any more pictures. The site is blaming some sort of internal error. Maybe Blogger is trying to tell me the post is getting too long and to shut up, already. So consider this the beginning. To quote the late, beloved Paul Harvey, stay tuned for the "Rest of the Story".

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Quick update

Life's hectic. What else is new? I haven't been able to steal away much time for tending to the blog. I'm sorry I haven't even posted replies to the last post's comments! I appreciate your expressions and feel ashamed to neglect you all.

This is just a quick update to let you know that I'm still alive. If anyone actually wondered, that is.

I spent the weekend conducting a 'train the trainer" exercise. So I got to enjoy the sunshine around motorcycles and motorcycle people but got in very little riding time of my own. The sacrifices we make!

Remember Kevin?

He came back on Saturday to take the skills test again. This time he passed. So begins his new journey in earnest.

I sold Sophie Saturday night. A guy came down from Seattle to buy her. More on that later. It was harder than I thought it would be to see her go.

Today I'm headed out of here in about an hour. Elvira and I are hitting the road to the Seattle area. I've been called to the Mothership in Kirkland for a day of meetings tomorrow. Read it and weep, but I'm being paid to ride about 275 miles in the sunshine today. Riding for work is even better than riding to work! It will be a late arrival home tomorrow night but another 550 miles or more will be on the odometer when I do get there.

Things look to be calming down by Wednesday. There's some catching up to do then.

Stay safe and enjoy the sunshine, if you have it. Talk with you later.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

A new scooter gang?

"I'm going to start a scooter gang when I graduate this class."

That's how a mop haired young man introduced himself to the class on the first night. One of the things that keeps me intrigued with teaching is that each new group of students has their own character. Some characters are more colorful than others, I find!

This young man had never ridden before. Like a lot of people these days, his goal was to use a scooter to save on transportation costs. Actually, his parents had forbidden him to have a motorcycle. Going to school and living at home, he felt bound by their rules. Not totally, it would turn out. The parents had okayed a 50cc moped. Our young man was going to get something bigger and try to secrete it from them. That was between the three of them. My job was to teach him to ride and take care of himself in the process.

I'm going to let our young man remain anonymous, although here's a picture. Yes, the photos from the weekend are terrible. There's not much time between running around looking after students. Cones need to be set. Porta-potties need to be visited. Students don't stand still too long in the unseasonable cold we've been enduring. I know Steve Williams advised me to squeeeze the trigger. I had one shot and blew it. Just consider them crudely drawn illustrations.

Our young man did okay on the riding part. There was a little timidity showing around the edges. Bravado would be punctuated by a need for affirmation. Underneath it all I there were signs of a desire to please the instructors. Sometimes it was hard to see that particular part. You see, the young man has a sort of smart mouth. It showed both on the range and in the classroom. A great example was during the discussion of impairment. One of the topics we cover is how to intervene and prevent friends from riding impaired. Asked how we could intervene, here's the answer the young man provided.

"Kick them in the coin purse so they're too sore to sit on the bike seat."

Interestingly, I was reminded of a young dog. Our student would smart off then give this crooked smile. Kind of like a pup who barks ferociously, then tries to appease a bigger dog by showing his underbelly.

As is usually the case, our young man drew some followers from the rest of the class. Befitting a person who has designs on being a gang leader.

Social misfits, all. I don't mean that in a bad way. Some people just aren't comfortable in a social setting. Certain skills aren't as well developed as they might be. Finding each other gave them security within their own group. So now we had the gang leader and his loyal minions.

As it turns out, smart mouth and all, I ended up getting the last word.

Sunday afternoon brought graduation time. One by one I called the students out into the hallway. Each student was debriefed on their passing status. I picked appropriate parting words for each individual. Soon it was time for our young pup to visit with the big dawg. That would be me. Just in case there was any sort of confusion on that part. I told him that he had passed. His completion card was handed over. Time for some parting words. I mulled over several possibilities. What would cap off the experience we had shared? What words would reflect the flavor of the relationship this witty young man and I had shared over the weekend? Then the words came to me.

"One last thing I'd like to know, young man. What do you plan to call your new gang? Hell's Nerds?"

Miles and smiles,

Dan

A special parking spot.

Every once in a while I need to get back to what this blog was actually started for. That's the encouragement to use a motorcycle for commuting. Even further, to use a bike for everyday transportation as much as possible. Whatever I write about in this blog, that factor is always on my mind.

As I travel around I keep a watch for bikes being used as work commuters. I came across one in a very special parking place. Back to that in just a minute.

In accordance with my established habit, I can't stop myself from taking a very short side trip first!

The other day I was in the middle of trying to help an architect sell a client on a product I represent. One of our lines is a plastic locker. It's pretty beefy while looking good. The other popular choice is metal lockers. Our line is more durable. Not only that, but we use recycled content. The standard locker contains 30 percent post consumer material. There is also the option of having a hundred percent recycled content. Between the increasing push to use "green" products and the ever growing LEEDS standards, our lockers are being specified more often.

So this client wants to see some lockers that have already been installed. The client is a big health care facility. I happened to know of a similar facility in Eugene. I offered to meet the client there but they did not want to make the four hour round trip. The next best thing was pictures. Which is how I found myself riding to Eugene with the Nikon in a saddlebag.

This is one of the photos. Imagine this. You show up at a medical clinic. Nobody knows you from Adam or Charlie Manson. The riding gear is stashed in the bike to reveal business casual attire. Nothing hides the helmet hair, though. Finding a likely person to accost, you request to take some pictures of their lockers. Fortunately, the girl you see above has an adventuresome spirit! Between that and my winning personality, I find myself in the women's locker room with her. It's evident I've won her trust. Although she made sure the room was clear, first!

So that's the background.

I parked among a bunch of cars far out in the lot. When I got close to the building, I saw this scooter parked right up next to the sidwalk near the employee's entry.

This is a very interesting building. It's built on a very modern philosophy of green construction. Showing a level of sophistication not commonly found, the areas not open to wandering members of the public are protected by electronic card access portals. A number of buildings have card access systems. What makes this one more unique is that the readers are biometric. They read thumbprints.

The green construction is also reflected in the parking lot. Note the lettering behind the scooter.

The intent is obvious. Whether or not motorcycles actually qualify could be up for grabs. Admittedly, I haven't made a deep study of the subject. My general understanding is that the total volume of exhaust pollutants are lower than cars. Proportionately, however, motorcycles aren't exactly what you would call "clean". Although the standards keep going up for newer models.

What's important here, I think, is the perception factor. As you know, perception is reality for a great deal of the population. It's human nature. Take the age old example of walking along a trail in the forest. If a person dressed in a bear costume jumps out in front of us from behind a tree, our perception certainly becomes our reality at that moment. The brain doesn't say, "Hmmm, let's take a minute to see what's really here." No, it immediately takes the perception as reality and starts the feet pumping. A definite possible additional act might be making loud noises as we scream and run. Of course, I'd never do that, but you get the point of the illustration!

The same thing applies to motorcycles. I get so many students who come into classes with the desire for more economical transportation. The reality might be different. Once tires and maintenance are figured in, the costs may not be that much less than an economy car. There's no arguing the fact that two wheeled vehicles certainly tread more lightly upon our planet, though. A fact I'm pretty smug about as I intermingle with Hummer drivers.

Whatever the reality versus perception, I'm pleased to see a large entity like this medical clinic recognize and reward the use of motorcycles for transportation. The more of us who ride to work, the more of this kind of thing will happen. Here's to building positive perceptions!

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Gaining stability.

I know some of you are reading the title and wondering what it means. There's a few who just can't wait to tap dance all over my head with pointed comments. I'll be the first to agree that it could very well apply to my mental state. There ain't no cure for that, folks! This post has nothing to do with any of my scrambled brain cells. It might be a manifestation of said brain cells, but the post isn't about making them any better. So you just put those Blue Suede Shoes back in the closet with your Velvet Elvis. This has to do with photography.



Katie and I recently went to a funeral. It's always sad to see the folks who figured so prominently in your younger years pass away. Such was the case with Buck and Babe. I have a childhood buddy. We've gone different directions in the ensuing decades. He's a bird nut while I'm a bike nut. He leads ocean cruises to spot rare birds on weekends. I teach motorcycle safety classes on weekends.

Some guy's crouched patiently in the bushes with binoculars. Just in front of him is a tiny flock of some nearly extinct bird rarely seen in civilization. The birds are getting a little closer. Just a bit more and he'll get some rare photos that very few humans have ever snapped. That would be my buddy Greg.

Just at the critical moment some asshole on a motorcycle goes roaring by on the roadway. The bike doesn't have loud pipes. It does make noise, however. Especially when he beeps the horn at the pervert in the bushes with the binoculars. And what's this bright yellow and black creature rapidly bearing down on us? So ask the birds. You know birds. Off they fly, never to be seen by humans again in this lifetime. Greg shakes his fist at the jerk who violated his sacred moment. That jerk would be me. Yee freakin' haw!

Despite all that, nothing can erase our long history. We've raised kids together. We're still married to the same women we started with. We still make these women shake their heads when we talk about our teenage exploits. Greg and his wife live close again. Once upon a time they took up residence in Oxnard, California. It's not far out of L.A. The first time we went to see them was the first time I'd ever eaten shark. Purchased from a grocery store meat counter, no less! It would have been more fun to eat it in a restaurant, though. Never one to resist a bad joke, I wanted to see some little girl talking exitedly to her mother.

"Mommy, there's a man eating shark over there!"

Dang it. Meandered off onto a back road, again didn't I? Or maybe rode into the ditch. Told you there was no cure for my mental state. Buck and Babe were Greg's grandparents. Buck passed away around 11 years ago. Babe recently passed away at the age of 97. Describing this couple would take up a few posts on its own. Buck was an Intrepid Motorcyclist. I'd see the two of them all over town on a Honda CB175 like this.

Theirs had a big box of some sort on the back. Come Winter, the bike would be strapped onto the back bumper of their pickup, snuggled up against the camper. Buck and Babe were Snow Birds. They'd spend months down in Arizona picking up rocks and collectibles from the desert. Buck was a pretty fair camp fire guitar picker. Babe was always to be found on the back of the bike. I don't know so much how she felt about riding. She just felt that her place was with Buck. If he was on the bike, then she'd be right behind him. That little bike seemed to work just fine for them.

I saw Greg at the funeral, of course. We were comparing our photographic skills. Actually, Greg was laughing at me for not having any. I told him of my recent purchase of a 55-200mm lense to go with the Nikon D40 SLR camera. Greg says he regularly uses a 300mm but that's as big as he can focus without a tripod. I told Greg that my lense had some sort of anti vibration thing-a-ma-bob in it but my pictures still tended to blur a bit.

Next thing I know, Greg's tap dancing on my head. He tells me that maybe it's not the camera or lense. Actually, he says if the pictures are blurry with the 200mm lense that has a built-in stabilizer then it's definitely me. "What is it you say?", he asks. "Buying a 1000cc sport bike doesn't automatically make you a good rider?"

Man, that smarts.

Fast forward a few weeks. Lingering in the back of my mind was a post by John McClane. He showed a picture of something called a Gorilla Pod. I didn't take time to find the exact post to link to here. Sorry, John. I always admire how clean and crisp some of the photos in other blogs are. Steve Williams and Gail Hatch have exceptionally clean photos. I like the photos on most of the other blogs. No insult is meant because I only mentioned these two. I do have to say I like Conchscooter's photos quite a bit. Mostly for the human element he captures. That, and the fact that he gets away with lurking about at 2 AM snapping covert pictures.

Conch says he likes to use a small pocket camera. No muss, no fuss, just snap and go. AA battery powered and all. I can just see him in the wee dawn hours. Photo subject spotted. Camera in front pants pocket. The photo subject looks over at Conch.

Conch says, "Hang on a minute while I whip something out!" How does he get away with that? I'd get arrested for sure. With my luck, he'd be the dispatcher that got the call. He's make sure that about fifty cops swarmed on me. All on scooters. With no helmets. One of the scooters would have a milk crate on the back of it.

"Ok, Buddy! In the crate. We're taking you in!"

This is in no way, shape or form, any sort of comment on Key West's finest. I've taken a few jabs at Conch over on his blog and I can see him taking the chance to get back at me. That's one of the reasons I like him!

Anyway, I figure Steve and Gail have two things I don't. Great skills in making and developing their photos, and a tripod. Hey, I can do that, too! Yes, I could march right out and buy a tripod. It just hadn't come up on the top of the list, yet. Then fate stepped in.

Katie and I were wandering around Joe's. It's a sporting goods store. I took a Camelbak apart in December. Come March, and I forgot how to exactly put it back together. Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have put away your dancing shoes, just yet. We didn't find one just like it in Joe's but I finally figured it out. These new CamelBaks are more complicated than they look. Seriously. Before leaving the store, I decided to check the ammunition stock. Turning the corner, I had an unexpected encounter. Sort of like meeting an old flame. Something that's been on your mind but you never acted on it. Suddenly you're face to face. Such was the meeting with the rack that held several Gorilla Pods.

Except, unlike an old flame, I could actually fondle this one around Katie. Well, I could have done the same with an old flame, but I would have gotten my ass torched. Get it? Old flame, ass torched? Fine, be that way. Anyway, I took a Gorilla Pod home and hooked it to the camera. If you think I don't have any photography skills, then answer me this. Pretty good job getting the Nikon to take a self portrait with its new Gorilla Pod, isn't it? You don't believe that, do you? Then I can tell you've been looking at my photos for a long time.

Do you want to know what's really ironic? I used a point and shoot digital camera to take a picture of the Nikon with the tripod. Held in my hands. Freestyle. The tripod is supposed to make my photos a lot more clear and sharp. My freehand photo of the camera and tripod is one of the clearest and sharpest photos I've taken in forever. AAAAARRRGGGHHH!

I haven't taken a picture using the tripod, yet, but the anticipation is fun. One of these days I actually will snap a photo using the tripod. As soon as I can find the shutter release. I told you I can't resist a bad joke. Didn't I warn you?

I can see some advantages to this kind of tripod over one with rigid legs. I just hope I can keep it from getting wrapped around my neck!

Stay tuned. The photos here are bound to get better. Or not.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Sport tourer or submarine?

As I write this there's actually a little bit of sunshine outside. What I am I doing in here? Should be out on the bike! Oh, wait, It's Oregon. Five minutes ago it was sunny. Now there's black clouds and sprinkles. Suddenly I get this urge to turn a lamp on. A week ago the sunshine was arriving as buckets of liquid. Good ole Oregon liquid sunshine. In other words, it was raining cats and dogs as the old saying goes. I'd agreed to head to Portland and supervise an instructor workshop. Elvira and I were going to get pretty wet. After that ride, I considered changing her name to something with a more nautical ring to it. Maybe I should call her Ariel the Mermaid.

Actually, that's what I'm going to rename my wife. Not long before it was time to leave, Katie pipes up and says she wants to go along. I ask her if she knows I'm riding. Close to 70 miles one way. There's no option. The workshop is about honing riding skills. It would look pretty bad if the one directing the exercise showed up in a car. I'd be laughed out of the Corp. Turns out, that's why she wanted to go. Katie claims it's been too long since I took her out on a bike. Muttering things about insane people under my breath, I tell her to get her gear. Not that I don't want her along. It's just that, unlike me, she's got a choice. Why would anyone willingly choose to ride 140 miles in the pouring rain? Maybe I should go look in the mirror for answers.

The workshop is at Portland Community College's Sylvania Center. Our workshop is on the upper range. This is a group on the lower range. They're taking what we call the Intermediate Rider Training, or IRT for short. It's for people who know how to ride but want to get legal. We work on mental strategies and accident avoidance skills. Students can use our bikes or their own. Most opt to use our training bikes. Some, though, get an extra advantage by using their own bikes. Except for beginner riders, it's better to train on the bike a person's actually be going to ride. This group had a scooter and several dual sports. Here's a closeup. You can also see how wet it is! In fact, the skies drained on us the whole time we were out there.

For this class and the Rider Skills Practice class, the instructors ride the demonstrations on their personal motorcycles. It's about credibility. Speaking of which, I have to tell a little story on myself. It's about getting carried away with one's own fun.

A few years ago we used to teach the MSF's Experienced Rider Course. We would set up a very large offset cone weave. It was used as an initial evaluation tool. If a rider couldn't somewhat manage this weave we would encourage them to take a more basic course. I loved this weave. The two lines of cones would be almost two thirds of the range apart. The idea was to slow before each cone, run an even arc around the cone under power, then head across the range for the next one. This would require a fairly tight turn. To do it successfully, you'd have to crank your head way around. We'd run two laps for the demonstration, being smooth and precise. Note, that's in contrast to fast and furious.

Of course, nuts like me would always like to play a little, if you get my drift. My fellow instructor had the weave set up while the students were gone to lunch. I ate my own lunch. During the summer I always have a hot lunch. I just leave my sandwich on the bike seat! Anway, I was going to ride the demo. We have to warm up, right? This was when Sophie was a couple of years old. Her and I were pretty darn comfortable with each other by then.

The range where we were teaching has a hump near where one line of cones would be. I'm not afraid to lean a bike. Not even in a parking lot. Note that I said the demo had to be smooth and precise. This was play, not a demo! So I'm out there weaving and leaning happily away. A couple of times I literally scraped the bottom of Sophie's saddlebags on the hump. In between I'd do some quick stops, swerves, and so on. My concentration is totally on my play, er, I mean, serious practice. Having stolen a glance at the dash clock I decide I should call it quits and get ready for the students to arrive.

Only to find out they'd already done so. Steve Smith, the other instructor, and all the students were lined up on the sidewalk watching me ride. Mouths were hanging open. One of the students came up to me with hand extended.

"Congratulations! If you were trying to establish credibility, you've done it!"

Steve later told me that while they were watching, somebody made the comment,

"Uh, he rides pretty well, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does," was Steve's reply. What he didn't say was that I shouldn't have been scaring the students like that!

My workshop was attended by some newer instructors who wanted to hone their own skills. One is a brand new instructor but not a new rider. He's a former Army Ranger. He finished 6th in the 2003 Iron Butt Rally. Yet, he showed up to hone his demo techniques and never said a word about anything else. There was no ego, only a desire to learn. I can't say enough about how impressed I was with this group. It was by no means a mandatory session but they braved the nasty weather in pursuit of further excellence. No wonder I'm so proud to be a part of this organization!

One of the instructors is riding this Star Stratoliner. No matter how you cut it, this is a big bike! It's dry weight is listed at a little over 800 pounds. The wheelbase is 67.5 inches. One of the exercises we need to ride demonstration runs for is the infamous offset cone weave. Yes, it can be done on almost any bike. It's a matter of technique.

This instructor was having a little trouble getting through it. My task was to watch and coach. When he asked me for feedback, I flashed back to Nancy and her Yamaha Vino. What could that dimunitive scooter and this behemoth cruiser have in common?

"Think about initiating the next turn sooner. As soon as your front tire reaches the cone, start back the other direction".

Bingo! The instructor already had the clutch work figured out. It just took a small adjustment in timing to get the rest down. Now he was running it flawlessly every time.

Here's some photos I took in the rain and in a hurry. We ran until almost dark. As you can see by the headlight reflections on the wet surface.

Here's the big bike in the 90 degree sharp turn. Look at the instructor's head turn. The bike is in the middle of the lane and in perfect position to make the corner.

We run a barrel ride in the Rider Skills Practice, or RSP. Here's some photos of bikes around the cones. Again, notice the head turns. So critical for directional control.

Practice over, everybody parted company for their respective rides home. Katie and I jetted home in the dark, just as wet as the ride up. These are the times, two up in the rain and dark, that I feel so comforted having ABS on a bike. Once we got home we could hardly move for all the wet gear hanging about here and there. All in all, though, a great day, rain or not.

There may be more on the cone weave coming up this week. The skills test is an interesting subject. Stay tuned.

Miles and smiles,

Dan

Bending the rules.

I'd like to introduce you to Nancy and her pretty blue Yamaha Vino. I met Nancy and her scooter when she came to retest on the skills test. Nancy had not passed the first time. Students under a certain score threshold are given the opportunity to try it again. Nancy was joining our group as they took their skill test for the first time.

The scooter arrived at the range on the back of a pickup. Busy coaching my students, I didn't watch the unloading process closely. I did notice it was odd that the ramp being used was a long 2 X 4. The pickup was quite tall. Unloading the scooter went well. Later on, when it was being reloaded, there were a couple of hairy moments. So much so that Jeff, who was auditing the class and whom you met here a few posts ago, felt compelled to run over and help to steady the scooter.

We send the students for a 15 minute break prior to conducting the skills test. During this time we run a warm-up exercise for students joining us for the retest. I introduced myself to Nancy. I could tell she was quite nervous. Most of them are. Understandably, of course. My first self-imposed task is to try to put the students more at ease.

In the last three years or so I've noticed something interesting about my rapport with students. It seems I've developed this ability to quickly and easily bond with middle-aged and older women. It's both satisfying and scary. Being able to bond with students is useful. An increasing number of students fall into the above named category. I feel more effective with these students. On the other hand, what does it say about me? That gray in my sideburns only happens because my helmet rubs and damages the hair follicles. Really.

Nancy bought the scooter to be, in her words, "A garage sale Mama."

Students often have this huge mental struggle with the offset cone weave. Nancy was no exception. She claimed to have failed the test because of it. What's interesting is that nobody can fail on one given exercise. A student can have up to 20 points and pass. The most points a student can get in one exercise, short of outright dropping the bike, is 10. I've seen a couple of 8 point scores but even the weak students usually only score about 6. Even at 8 points in the cone weave, there's still 12 to burn in other places.

If a student fails the evaluation it's because there's a demonstrated general lack of control. It might be just nerves or a lack of ability. The evaluation and scoring discussion and its relevance can take up several posts. The important part for this post is that the cone weave gets most of the blame. Maybe it's the reputation floating around there from failed DMV tests. Whatever the reason, it's become the "Dreaded Cone Weave"!

So we finish the warmup for Nancy. Her scooter is parked in staging at the back of the group. Now Nancy tells me that she never successfully completed the cone weave when she took the class. She also stated that she really wished the instructors would have ridden her scooter in the weave so she could see it. I don't know if what she said about not being successful was true or not. I was not there. That's all I can say about that.

There's a few minutes left in the break. So I put on helmet and gloves. Nancy gives me permission to ride the weave on the Vino. Which I do. Quite successfully, I might add. I put the bike back in line. Here's where the bending the rules part comes in. I know some instructors are reading this. I'm probably busted. It was nice teaching while it lasted!

We're told that retests are there to do exactly that, not to retrain. However, I'm faced with a woman who is going to be on the streets legally the next day if she passes. Does she really have the low speed control she'll need for riding a 150cc scooter? Does she have the confidence that she can control the scooter? Confidence counts for a lot when a rider faces making a critical decision. Do I follow policy to the letter or do I satisfy myself as a professional that this woman leaves with a very important skill? I can't take long but I decide to give it a quick shot. My coaching can't be nearly as long as my blog posts!

Nancy is still geared up. I tell her to ride the weave and let me watch. I observe that she is doing two things detrimental to her success. She's waiting too long to initiate the next lean. All the while she's also rolling on the throttle and gaining too much speed. I give her two pieces of coaching. Short and sweet. Maybe my long blog posts are a release from having to give two or three word coaching tips on the range!

I tell Nancy to start thinking about the next lean as soon as the front tire clears the cone. I also show her how to roll a little bit of throttle then plant her thumb on a flat spot to keep it steady. I had watched two runs. I coached her after that. Her next run was successful. That's all the time we had. By the way, that same advice works really well for big cruisers. More on that in the next post.

When the students were leaving staging to get in line, I patted Nancy on the shoulder. I told her, "don't accelerate, just lean". She nailed a perfect offset cone weave in the eval. Nancy also passed the whole test with a decent score. The picture above was taken after I told Nancy she passed. Can you see her beaming?

I think all Nancy needed was confidence. Conquering a personal demon does a lot for that. It's amazing how a mental block can screw up everything else. I decided helping her face the challenge was a worthwhile pursuit. What I observed about her other skills during the eval confirmed that. She had a good foundation. We just needed to shore up a corner of it some.

On a side note, I'd urge anyone teaching motorcycle safety classes to spend some time on a scooter. I know that quite a number of readers here ride scooters. Reading your blogs and your comments has helped me tremendously. Let me offer my sincere thanks for what you have shared. I feel I have a much better awareness of the validity and value of scooters in the riding world because of it. I take them and their riders very seriously. So much so that I have gone and ridden several different models on my own. Begging, borrowing, and stealing all along the way! More people are bringing scooters to classes. Instructors owe it to their students to learn the quirks and differences. In some ways they're more twitchy. In other ways, they seem to take longer to respond. Having a good understanding is part of being truly professional, in my humble opinion. Ok, maybe not so humble. Whatever.

All in all, it was a win-win situation. Both Nancy and I came away with positive experiences. I wish her all the joy in the world as she enters the two wheeled world as a full fledged member!

Miles and smiles,

Dan