Some random things -- tidbits, really.

• The best way to trigger the magnetic loops in the road at stoplights is to put your sidestand down and set it directly on the loop. Bam, instant green light.
• Starting your bike in a 300 sq.ft college apartment is several things. It's just incredibly loud, its really stinky, and it's not very smart. In the middle of February, though, it's also verrrrry satisfying.
• My bike's horn is so quiet, I might as well just fart at them.
• Getting a bumblebee inside your jacket is a real downer.
• I can actually pull the bike to the side of the road, put it in neutral and stop with a bumblebee in my jacket, while keeping one hand squeezing the offending insect in my jacket at all times, and also not dumping me or my passenger into the dirt.
• Keeping your jacket zipped up keeps most bumblebees out.
• Sometimes the guy revving his bike at the red light isn't trying to be cool -- his bike just won't idle without dying.
• Having to kickstart your bike when the light turns green annoys the cagers behind you and is really really embarrassing.
• Telling people your bike "really wants to be a Triumph Bonneville" is no good if they think all bikes are "Harleys."
• My wife's grandma insists on asking me if my 650cc Yamaha is a Harley.
• Raindrops suck. Rain storms suck more. Thunderstorms are the Ultimate God of Sucking.
• When someone thinks you're wearing a black leather jacket...until you turn your collar up and expose the only dry spot of brown leather on it...you are very wet.
• Leather jackets gain about 30lbs in a thunderstorm.
• At the gas pumps, SUV drivers get "that look" in their eyes. The look that says "If I were to knock this guy out and take his bike, nobody'd ever know."
• My avatar picture is actually of a 1:6 scale model of a 1940 Indian Chief.
• Somehow, places you've gone 5000 times in your car are suddenly cool again when you ride your bike to them.
• I can be comfortable riding down to 60 degrees. Fifty with the detestable windshield mounted. I can tolerate it down to about 40 degrees, but when I get where I'm going I have to slide my frozen tube-hands off the end of the handlebars and warm them on the hot motor before I can use them for anything.
• My bike stops being comfortable after about 90 minutes, and I need to go rest my butt.

_________________
1979 XS650F -- "Hi, My name's Nick, and I'm a Motorcyclist. I've been dry for four years." (Everybody: "Hi, Nick.")

Somehow, places you've gone 5000 times in your car are suddenly cool again when you ride your bike to them.

That is sooooo true...even going to work is a little better if you get to ride the bike there!

After reading your blog, it seems you've lived a few different places. Just curious what took you to the Traverse City area. I have been there several times with my old job (motorsports industry, you know, sea/doos, ski-doos, things that go vroooom). Its a nice area, would love to ride the bike on some of those roads. When I get a little better at this riding thing, maybe I'll venture over.

Keep up the posts, we are reading, and your pretty entertaining

_________________
SilveradoGirl--

**Your ride doesn't matter.... the fact that you DO ride is what's important!**

I just bought a '78 XS650E not too long ago. I've been fixing it every since.

SUV drivers give you the look after they see your pump total compared to theirs!

_________________
2002 Buell Blast 500 /¦\

Confessions of a Commuter

(Thanks for the encouragement, guys!)

Today, it is hot in Michigan. Not hot like: "Oh gee, I have to hang up my parka today in the Great White North." Not hot like, "Wow, we should go to the beach." Today is hot like: "Holy Potatoes, I opened the front door and singed my eyebrows -- can you smell the chicken feathers? Can you? I can, because that's what my burnt eyebrows smell like, because it's so -- Oh Gawd, the car just melted into the driveway! I smell sulfur! Satan is making the Earth comfortable for his arrival! Help me, help me!"

Or in more objective terms, according to the National Weather Service website, as of an hour ago the heat index is exactly 100 degrees F. In northern Michigan. Ack.

So it makes me longingly remember the times I've ridden in the rain. Seemed onerous at the time, but right now it seems like such a nice time -- I'm sitting in a climate-controlled basement and just thinking about the heat outside is making me warm.

I first tangled with the rain when I was a teenager, and I was riding my ancient 125cc dual-purpose Honda home from school. It was a 10-mile ride, and at my 42 mph-ish cruise speed it took me a little while. I was wearing my usual denim jacket, my motocross helmet (the kind with the visor and chinbar) and a pair of motocross goggles.

I was tooling along Pere Marquette Road, which if you're not familiar with the Coleman, MI area is the road that runs parallel to Old US-10, within sight, but on the opposite side of the train tracks. Pere Marquette is mostly dirt, and barely travelled due to the extreme proximity of the highway. Perfect for my slow bike. Anyway, about the first sign of rain was something hitting my nose and stinging like a piece of gravel. Or a flu shot. Followed by another...and another, then on my soft neck-meat, and then I noticed the road starting to dimple with dark wetness and it was really starting to hurt, so I slowed down and slowed down, and soon I was putting along at less than 35mph.

Once I slowed down enough to quit being battered, and accepted the fact that I was going to be very, very wet, it was actually a very nice ride. A steady, soaking rain in Michigan has its own sweet smell as the grass, and the gravel and the cornfields absorb the water -- and one of my favorite things about riding has always been the smells you get that you can't get through the AC vent of a Buick. So I spent the next 20 minutes loafing along, giggling, soaking in the smell.

The other instance that really sticks in my mind was in the mid-90's...on my XS this time. At that time I was a freelance newspaper reporter, and had ridden to a school board meeting or something for a story. It was late -- 9:30pm-ish and pretty dark -- and I was riding back home, and there was the telltale stillness, the ominous inky sky, and the obvious flashes on the horizon to tell me it was going to storm. I wanted to get home before it did, but I had a 25-mile ride, and looked to be directly toward the storm.

The further I rode, the closer the flashes got, and the more frequent -- still wasn't raining, but it sure was rumbling, and there were some flashes almost directly overhead. At one point I was on an overpass over the freeway and I remember hugging the tank in an effort to just be lower than my surroundings. I know, mostly psychological.

Then the rain hit. It was like riding into a waterfall -- wham! The rain was just sheeting down, the lightning was cracking overhead, and the worst part was the wind -- wild gusting winds were just smacking me from the right...I was leaned into the wind already, and the gusts felt like they were going to blow my wheels out from under me more times than I could count. It was scary.

I reached a Shell station in bustling Rosebush, MI (bustling, yeah.) and pulled in just so I could duck inside -- ran into an old classmate who was also out on his bike. He's the one who thought my jacket was black until I turned up the collar. I waited out the worst of the storm, and when it diminished to just rain I went out, sluiced the water off the seat, and cranked the bike until it sputtered and fired, then rode off for the last 10 miles home. Ten miles of darkness and rain, and wet roads, and the spray from every car in front of me, and every car passing by me.

When I got to my apartment, I just walked in, and walked straight into the bathtub. My boots had some serious suction built up from the water in them, which I poured out once I had them off. My jacket weighed at least 20lbs, and my legs were colored blue from the dye in my jeans being leached through. Drowned rat. Check.

Not a singing, giggling experience, but I lived through it. Never really wanted to do that again, but right now it looks a little more palatable than my drive home tonight, in summer tourist-town traffic, in an old Ford LTD with no AC...

_________________
1979 XS650F -- "Hi, My name's Nick, and I'm a Motorcyclist. I've been dry for four years." (Everybody: "Hi, Nick.")

Day two of the heat wave. I think it's actually hotter than it was yesterday. According to the Nat'l Weather Service it is 93 degrees right now with a heat index of 100. Last night's drive home in the 22-year-old Ford with no AC was like driving through a smelting plant. Gad. And I'm anticipating doing it again in about an hour or so.

But most of my motorcycling has been in cold weather. Cold, yes. So good.

I rode once in January, mostly just to say I'd done it. I was in college, had my bike parked in my living room, and we had a "heat wave" in January -- not like today's "gee am I on fire? Nope, just outside" heatwave, but the snow melted from the roads, and it was warm enough to leave the parka and mukluks in the closet. So I pulled out the bike and rode to McDonald's with my girlfriend. We had lunch, then rode back...total distance, about 3 miles, but I did it!

Last year, I rode up until mid-October and was ready to ride more, but we went from ridable weather to 6" of snow in one night, and that was it, the season was over. Michigan is kind of like that. If you want to ride outside of July and August up here, you have to be prepared to take some cold. Most spring and early summer days are absolutely perfect for the ride home...but the ride into work is dark and frigid. I've found that I can ride down to 60 degrees comfortably without my handlebar-windshield attached, and down to 50 degrees with it. Below that, it's just cold.

Basic prep for riding to work in mid-April through mid-June. Lunchbag in the tailpack, check. Shirt tucked into pants to stop wind, check. Fleece vest zipped all the way up my neck, check. Lined leather coat, check. Helmet vents all closed, check, check and check. Thinsulate ski gloves on, check. Lightweight gloves in tailpack, check. Bike on...choke, start....warm up for five minutes or so....test w/o choke...nope, choke back on for a bit more....test... ok. Clutch in, kickstand up, in gear, out the driveway we go.

The first mile or two are good, I'm taking 633 instead of the busier M-37 so I can go slower if I need to, but I don't need to yet. The air is crisp, and the mist smells clean. The next couple of miles I check my jacket zipper and yup, it is already zipped all the way up. Hmph, I could've swore not. S'okay, though. Is there a hole in that finger in my glove? Seems awfully cool there...nope, guess not. Hm. Knees? Hello, knees? Are you there? Looks like it.

Okay, we're past 10 miles, and have another 10 to go. I'm hugging the motor with my knees, and getting a tiny bit of heat that way. No more two fingers on the clutch, because those two fingers want to be with the rest of them, not out in Siberia. I had to crack the visor about 5 miles ago because my exhale was fogging it up, so my nose is starting to do something really disgusting.

Almost to town...Yay, a stop sign! I get to stop...wait, there's a car behind me? Awwww....spoilsp-sp-sport!

Anyway, I'll make it to work, motor around the parking garage to the corner where us bikers park, back the bike in and shut it off...well, really I'll slide my hand off the end of the bar and turn the key with the knuckles of my first and second finger, because I can't voluntarily open my hand. I generally get the gloves off, then hold my hands on the cooling fins of the motor until I get some feeling back in them, at least enough to un-bungee my tailpack without snapping myself in the nards.

Riding home? Fleece in the tailpack. Heavy gloves in the tailpack. Light gloves on, helmet vents open, leather coat half-unzipped, total comfort all the way home. It's almost decadent how good that feels after beating Jack Frost in the morning. Strange thing? I like riding in the cold mornings. For a number of years I had to be to work at 6:00 am, and would ride the bike if it was basically over 40 degrees or so. The cold was invigorating; it made me remember that I'm alive by darnit, and I could get to work and stand by the bike and inside my own head think "Yeah! I did that! Go ahead and stare at me, you LPN's in your heated Corollas, because I am better than the cold -- Man vs. Nature, baby, who's yer daddy?"

_________________
1979 XS650F -- "Hi, My name's Nick, and I'm a Motorcyclist. I've been dry for four years." (Everybody: "Hi, Nick.")

MSF. Take the MSF Course. The MSF Course needs to -- did you take the MSF Course? Take the MSF Course. It's a good course, the MSF course that is. Take it. Take the course.

Seems to be a common thing to see around this forum. I can't disagree, not at all... It certainly is educational, and will make you a better rider and a safer rider and all that stuff that everyone says. There just seems to be one element of the course that everyone leaves out.

It's fun.

I haven't seen anyone say that yet, but I had a blast when I took the course at Delta College in Michigan back in, what, 1986? When I signed up I had my new driver's license, and I had the Honda 125 dual-purpose that I'd been riding for almost a year. When I found out that they supplied the bikes, I was in. It wasn't expensive, and I think my mom paid for it, even.

First day of class was in a classroom -- the usual "welcome to the class, we're going to have a good time, don't pizza when you should've french-fried, or you're going to have a bad time." * We saw slides that showed actual motorcycles, with arrows to the important things like seats, tanks, lights, etc.

Then we had a break after an hour or so, and walked over to the driving range. Not the golf-ball-whacking-type range, the big parking lot for riding in circles range. We were introduced to the motorcycles du jour, and remember that this was 1986, but I was pretty excited at a couple of these. The fleet consisted of several Honda CB125's, a Yamaha or Kawasaki (I forget) 125cc 2-stroke UJM, a Suzuki GS250, another 250cc UJM, and the jewels of the fleet, a brand-new Honda XL250 and a brand-new 250cc Rebel.

I should describe the class a bit, because I thought it was fairly diverse. There was me -- 16, a year or so of dirt-bike experience. There was another guy about my age who was a total newbie and looked like he was straight out of "Frankie Goes to Hollywood." There was a housewife-looking lady who'd already had a license and was taking the course as a refresher. There was a little 4'11" woman whose "old man" had died and left her his "9-foot long chopper." There were were a couple more "average" people like me, and there was somebody's grandma -- she meant well...she filled up at least two spiral notebooks with all the notes she scribbled down, and tried to ask meaningful questions that always seemed to come out like, "When we motorcycle the motorcycle, should motorcycle the thingie clutch motorcycle?" She tried, she really tried.

The first things we did on the bike were really basic. We paired up and one of us would push the other on the bike, so they could learn the balance and stuff. Then we started the actual motors, using the anagram learned in class. The anagram for starting the bike, which I forget but was something like, F.I.C.K.M.E. -- or "Fuel on, In neutral, Choke on, Key on, Mirrors adjusted, Engine start," or something. Then one of us would stand in front of the bike, ready to grab the clutch and handlebars, while the other of us would practice finding the engagement point of the clutch. I think we rode a total of 100 feet under power that first day.

The next class was better, We learned to get under way, and ride straight, and stop, and turn. A bit later we learned to shift while moving. We rode around a little city street course laid out with cones in the parking lot, with stopping and signaling and honking at people when they bent over, and stuff like that. In subsequent courses, we learned more skills -- we slalomed slowly through widely spaced cones; we slalomed quicly through closely-spaced cones. We road around a small circle and a smaller circle as slowly as we could without putting down a foot. We rode through a 180-degree curve using an in-out-in line as quickly as we could. And because the actual range and the trailer they parked the bikes in were on opposite sides of the huge parking lot, we raced hell-for-leather from one to the other at break time.

Then we learned a couple of advanced skills. Counter-steering stands out in my mind. The instructor demonstrated it first. He had the entire class stand in one parking spot on the range. He then road out, turned around, and GUNNED IT right at the class. He got WAY too close and then zipp went around us at 35mph or so. And we learned to do that, though we didn't get to ride at anyone like he did.

Panic stops were the most fun that I had. I was on the new Rebel (woo-hoo!) that day, and they told us, "Okay, get it up to 15mph, then jam on the rear brake only and lock it up. Lock it right up." There I went. Vrooom, snick, vrooOOm -- SQUurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk. Wow, did I just get to do that? I sure did, several times. Then with both brakes. Heck, I practiced that move more than anything that week.

By the end of the class we'd do something like ride around the city streets, motor over to the tight slow-speed circles, gun it to the brake-test line and lock'em up, then slalom over to the city streets again. It was fun, I tell you, FUN!

At the end of it all, we had our test and had to pass each and every skill we'd learned -- the only skill I failed was the in-out-in curve, and that was only because the bike wouldn't shift into 2nd in the middle of it, and I took too long. I passed, and got my Motorcycle Safety certificate. The only thing left was to take the Michigan state road test and written test.

The Secretary of State rep (DMV in other states) was there and we took the State of Michigan "road test" right there -- after the class it was such a cake-walk. We had to take off from a start, ride straight for 30 feet, turn around, ride through 3 mini-cones and stop on the line. That was it -- it took about 30 seconds. If I'd been over 18, that's all I'd have to prove I could do to be licensed to ride among blue-haired Buick grannies and 100-ton gravel trains.

I took the written test the next week, and I got 100% -- I only took 7 minutes. When I brought it back the lady said "what's wrong?" "um, nothing, I'm done." It was done, I was legal. I could ride my little Honda on the road -- legally. And that would be 20 years ago this fall.




* South Park reference...if you haven't watched the timeshare/80's skiing movie episode you have no clue what that line meant.

_________________
1979 XS650F -- "Hi, My name's Nick, and I'm a Motorcyclist. I've been dry for four years." (Everybody: "Hi, Nick.")

I think I once said that the MSF class was fun!

_________________
2002 Buell Blast 500 /¦\

Confessions of a Commuter

I guess this could be a sort of a counter-point to CNF2002's Commuter Confessional. Not exactly, not totally, but at least related.

First and foremost, I agree with everything he said about people buying motorcycles "to save gas" when the prices spike. It applies to hybrid cars as well, I'd think...though you're locked into driving one if you bought one for your primary transportation. Different topic entirely -- tangential to our discussion. (listen to me, all important-sounding with my "tangential" and stuff.)

I'm looking at the situation from the other side of the fence, I guess. I have a motorcycle, just sitting in the garage for want of $200 or so of plates and insurance, while I drive an old boat of a car every day. My car pulls 20mpg, and I have a 40-mile round trip commute. At today's $3.21/gallon at the pump, that's $6.42 to drive to work and back home. My bike gets a pretty reliable 58mpg, and would cost me $2.21 for each day I rode it to work. I'd save over four dollars each day, and in about 47 days I'd "pay off" the initial $200.

Forty-seven days of riding my bike to work. If it were the start of the season, no problem. But...if I could get it legal TODAY and start tomorrow, I'd have to ride it to work every single day until October 13. In Michigan. The rest of August would be easy, no doubt. September is mostly ok, but the mornings start getting pretty cold. (see my earlier entry on cold riding) October now, that's different...we get snow in October. Last year I rode my bike one day and filled it up...that night we got 6" of snow and it never melted -- winter was on. There's no way it's comfortable to ride when it's 18 degrees. It's barely comfortable to sit in a car with an overpowered keep-grandma-warm-she-has-bad-circulation heater blasting.

What's more, I'm only talking about "earning back" the cost to insure and plate the bike that I already have. What if I'd gone out and bought a new HonYamSuz XYZ750 for what... $8,599? At $4.21 in gas savings per day, that's another 2,042 days of riding to "earn back" the bike.

Two thousand and forty-two days. There's a number to throw at someone. You're at a cocktail party with the neighbors (don't we all do that??) and Biff starts agitating about the price of gas, and how he's going to "buy one of them motorsickles and stick it to OPEC." You can look Biff in his one good eye and say, "Two thousand and forty-two days, Biff." You'll get the incredulous look of someone whose sails have just lost their wind. "That's how many days it'll take you to pay for that 'motorsickle' in gas savings. Are you that dedicated to saving gas, Biff? Are you, punk?"

Might help if you have a couple of Mai Tai's in you, and also if Biff doesn't have 6" and 50lbs on you, one bad eye or not. What's my point, you ask? I don't have one. Wait, yes I do... somewhere here... let me look under... oh yeah... my point is that I'm driving a 22-year-old grandpa-car instead of riding my bike, but the gas crunch is not my fault, contrary to popular belief. Yeah. Um, so there.

_________________
1979 XS650F -- "Hi, My name's Nick, and I'm a Motorcyclist. I've been dry for four years." (Everybody: "Hi, Nick.")

Drive in a 20mpg (mine actually gets about 18 but I simplified)...my commute is 15 miles each way, 30 miles a day, 600 miles a month. In the SUV I consume 30 gallons a month. On the bike I consume 8.57 gallons a month. At average regular price around here (2.95/gal), thats $88.50 a month. At average premium (3.10/gal), thats $27.57 a month, a difference of $61.93 a month. This is, of course, entirely based on the work commute Monday-Friday. It does not include errands, running to the grocery store to pick up something, meeting the wife somewhere after work, etc. That adds miles...so I am really saving $62 a month at the bare minimum.

Now the added costs. My insurance is 112 a year and my registration is 14 a year, so 126 in extra fees, or 10.50 a month. Now my savings are $51.50 a month.

Wear and tear. The SUV does not accummulate miles since I ride the bike. A quick test with KBB and I estimate my 'per mile' value of the vehicle to be 4 cents per mile, every mile I drive the estimated value of the vehicle drops 4 cents. At 600 miles a month I save $24/mo in wear and tear value.

Lets assume I change my oil every 5,000 miles with synthetic oil + filter, commuting thats every 8 months. A case of oil for the SUV costs $30. The bike only takes 1.5 quarts, so we will assume I spend $7.5 each oil change. Or, a savings of $2.81/mo. Now my savings are $78.31.

There are other maintenance costs, but there is less to do on a bike than on the car, and less to break down. But we'll ignore that.

However, I do have to change my bike tire more often. It costs $200, and I need to change it every 5k miles. Thats every 8 months, or $25.00 a month. Now my savings are $53.31.

Gear cost 130 helmet, 120 jacket, 100 pants, 30 gloves, or $380. The bike cost $2,500. A total investment of $2,880. At a savings of 53.31 a month, I need to commute on the bike for 54 months just to break even (or 4.5 years).

Fortunately where I live, the riding season is all year.

That looks like alot. However consider this...I've also saved 257 gallons of gas per year. And if my motorcycle choice is a commuting change, not just a temporary attempt to save some pocket cash, I save $640 a year. Since my car lasts much longer without the wear-and-tear miles, I have to buy them less frequently. If I buy a car every 10 years instead of every 5 years, that more than makes up for the cost of the motorcycles.

Lets say I invest that money. I invest it every year while I work, commuting, at an average return in the current market. Now I've retired with an extra $75,000 in my pocket simply because I decided to ride a motorcyle to work instead of an SUV. How's THAT for saving money?

_________________
2002 Buell Blast 500 /¦\

Confessions of a Commuter