Untouching

I might as well have been on the edge of the world
Getting ready to jump off
according to the weak, sick feeling running through my veins.
Bike between my legs—motor running—highway before me
And I’m scared—new biker scared—babe in the woods scared.
So scared I couldn’t even imagine what I wanted the wheels to do—
So scared I couldn’t believe that the motorcycle would obey me
And lean to the left
to smoothly cross the yellow line and transport me on down the road.

I make a loser’s attempt—knowing while I did it that I
Should have leaned more—should have turned the throttle more
And two heart-pounding seconds later, I am on the other side of the road
Feet on the pavement in failure—off the road as far as I can get
Without going into the yard that only a few seconds ago had been across the street from me.

I stood there straddling my cycle—in a state of shameful terror, unable to even swallow and then—I saw a woman walking towards me.
She was going to her mailbox
While I sat there---shaking---dry-mouthed--- watching her
She got her mail without acknowledging me
Without even looking at me----and turned to walk slowly back down her sidewalk
Head bent
While she searched her mail.

And through the tumult still going on underneath my helmet
I wondered
If a car had swooped down over the hill and knocked me into the air to land at her feet
Broken like a bird that slammed into a windshield
Would she have noticed me then?

I think so. I think she might have even forgotten her mail—maybe even dropped it to the ground before she screamed.

But why do I have to meet death
To even be acknowledged
By my neighbor?

Regina Russell

_________________
Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

Hello to all fellow bikers although some may not consider me a fellow biker because my Kymco 250 is a scooter not a motorcycle. But have mercy. I'm in my 50's and am just learning. (If I were a cat I would only have two lives left by now anyway.)
I have been reading everything I can get my hands on about biking since I wrecked my 1st scooter (Yamaha Majesty 400) the second day I rode it. After recuperating for several months from my knee injuries, arm injury and the dreaded ego breaking injury, (not to mention the destruction of my lovely bike that had been in mint condition), I enter this forum as a new woman--a changed one--a smarter one and a scareder one. (I know.... scareder is not a word--(I'm an English major)-but heck, it just reflects my feelings better).
Thanks to all who have shared your bike riding wisdom. I will keep coming back here to learn from you and share my own experiences. The script note at the bottom of this page is the last words I was able to say before leaving the road to play tumbleweed with my bike.
Until then, remember what Helen Keller said: "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."

Gina

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Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

Yea, you may hear a lot of noise due to your choice of ride. Ignore it and read the rest. There is a lot to be learned here. I'm a novice myself and am glad of the resorce.

The best of it is: find a safety class as soon as possible.

Luck to you,
Pete

Sunday was a big day for me. I woke up that morning celebrating the fact that God loved His creation enough to make a plan to save them from sin. I rejoiced because that plan was fulfilled by Jesus--the perfect son, who emptied Himself of His own will so God could work completely through Him--so much so that He was able to do wonderful things--so much so that He could say---"Everything I do, I do because of my Father," and "If you have seen Me, you have seen my Father," and last but not least, "Not my will, but thine be done," before He let Himself be sacrificed for the sins of the world.
I awoke early and spent a lot of time in prayer. I like to start my prayers out by acknowledging God for who He is. He tells us in His word to, "Be still and know that I am God." I love that.
I'm so glad to be alive too--so thankful for my husband and my family. After my time of prayer, I got ready for church and I enjoyed the services. (I am a musician in the church and help out with the music for two morning services and attend Sunday school. So, by the time the second service ends, I've spent a lot of time there.) I left rejuvenated.
I also looked forward to taking my bike out on the road. I'd only taken it out for very short excursions to a nearby parking lot to practice. Since my first wreck several months ago, I have not just went for a drive.
My husband followed behind me in the car. I took off badly again, like my first attempt to leave the driveway. I swerved and half-walked-half-rode my bike until I was finally headed straight down the road. Fear had already set in and I could hardly swallow. I had to consciously keep myself from focusing on the cars coming towards me or the road directly at my feet. My mouth was dry and I was doing everything I could to keep my fear from taking over.
Why couldn't I drive like I did in the field? Of course I was going faster now but the ride was so much smoother on the road and it was a beautiful day. However, the memories of my wreck were ever-present. I could feel them in the pit of my stomach telling me that one wrong action could send me spiraling over the side of the next hill or head me straight into the traffic.
After a couple of miles of this mental torture, I spied a good road to turn onto. I made the turn and with great relief brought my bike to a stop.
Half of the trip was over. Now, all I had to do was drive back home. I turned around. My speedometer read 61 at one point and unnerved me. I knew I wasn't going that fast. Something was wrong.
Soon, I pulled into my driveway--glad that the small excursion was over--glad that I wasn't injured and lying off of the side of the road gasping with pain the way I had been on my last trip.
When my husband informed me I had been going too slow, I told him about my speedometer. He checked it. I felt foolish as he pointed out that it was set on kilometers and not miles. He said he could tell I was scared at every curve and everytime I met a car.
I had considered my ride a success just because I got home in one piece but now I was ashamed. Fear had driven my motorcycle....not me.
I knew I had a lot of thinking to do. Maybe this wasn't for me. Maybe I should just be a "cager" and be glad to be alive to be one. But I never dreamed what the next day would hold for me or how it would influence the decision I needed to make...

_________________
Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

Really, Gina, jstark gave you the best advice when he suggested that you park the bike until you take the MSF course. It won't be forever, just for now. The instructors will be able to observe you directly and give you specific, helpful feedback. Even after the class, you will have specific tools you can use to improve your skills.

Motorcycling looks easier than it is, and the best riders here often note that they are constantly honing their own skills. As adults, I think we have forgotten the repetition and patience children use to learn. We are competent in most things, or have adapted somehow, and are not used to being raw beginners anymore.

Take the course, take the course, take the course. Trust the experience of the people here.

_________________


___________________________________
Civility and democracy both require effort.

I am scheduled to take the class and do feel it is in everyone's best interests including mine not to get back out on the road again until I do. However, I'm not even sure I'm going to drive anymore in the first place. I do appreciate the advice though. Thanks.

_________________
Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

AFter my first wreck, I've had it in mind to learn how to ride right so I got a Grand Vista 250--less power--good to learn on and fun too. I've practiced for weeks in the field and made a nice little track. I can do figure 8's and quick stops and I've practiced quite a bit at a little parking lot at a church near our home. I do a lot of reading and studying about riding too and I registered for the driving class. It was important to me not to let this beat me. But whenever I get on the road, I become fearful and fall apart. I've been through so much that I think it's made me afraid of what might happen and I'm afraid for someone to get behind me too. My fear keeps me from driving well.
Then, just this week, my 27 year old daughter came over and wanted to sit on my bike. I reminded her that it would go 75 mph and was very powerful for a 250 but she wanted to see what it was like so I let her sit on it. She had me show her how it worked and she wanted to walk it in the field and got after me for holding onto the bike. She was telling me how good she rides their 4 wheeler and how powerful it was and at first it looked like she was just learning how to ride the scooter the same way I did.
I let go and she walked it about half way around the track and then took off. The next thing I knew she was lying on the ground with a broken collarbone.
I've been going to her house to take care of her while her husband is at work. The doctor thinks her collarbone will heal on its own but she has to wear this sling-type harness thing to hold her straight. My own foolhardiness has started this whole thing and now my daughter is suffering because of me. My son, who has ridden motorcycles and had a dirt bike came over Tues. and wanted to ride but my husband said no. So, I think my riding days may be over. I've seen my daughter wreck a thousand times in my mind. I think the most horrible part was waiting for the ambulance and not letting her move her head. She doesn't blame me for it but I know it's really my fault. I should never have let her sit on the thing.
So, that's my sad, stupid little pitiful story. Not only am I not a bike rider---I wasn't a very wise mother either and that hurts worst of all.

_________________
Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

Gina- a couple of points.


Not to be harsh, but absolute BS. Your 27 year old daughter is an adult. Adults make their own decisions, and accept the consequences thereof. Period. I am a 53 year old man with adult stepchildren, this is something I feel very strongly about.


Training. Training, training, training, training, training......... You do not have the technique yet to be a good rider. Lack of technique = fear. MSF training lays the foundation for the technique. Technique arms you with the tools to deal with unexpected riding situations. Realizing you have the tools, gradually your fear subsides.

Riding a bike without training is like trying to be a Christian without prayer and scripture. No tools.


Let me tell you a story. I mentioned before we (wife & I) used to have a scooter. A 2003 Honda Reflex - 250cc. Very similar in weight and power to your GrandVista. By 2006, we had bigger motorcycles, weren't using the Reflex much, so we sold it to a female coworker of mine. She got a permit, was scheduled for the MSF, but had started riding around on her own before the course (sound familiar?) One day, turning and pulling onto a road from a stop (sound familiar?) she didn't keep her eyes where she wanted to go, and ran wide off the road. Darn near totalled the Reflex, and broke her collarbone...... (the parallels are uncanny...)

A year later, collarbone healed, money scraped together to fix the Reflex, she took the MSF and passed. She's still riding and has become a good and safe rider. Still has the Reflex, too.

You do not know enough about motorcycling yet to even know what you don't know. This is where the voice of experienced motorcyclists, such as this forum, comes in. Motorcycling is undoubtably risky. However, through practiced acquisition of appropriate techniques, it is possible to control and manage the level of risk. Training opens the door to the lifelong journey of acquiring motorcycle technique and improving riding skill.

If you want to ride, and are willing to approach it in a methodical and disciplined way, you can ride. You can become a good and accomplished rider who manages her risk through intelligent and skilled application of riding technique. It's possible. It's your choice.

Keep in touch.

_________________
2005 Triumph Bonneville
2005 Suzuki V-Strom 1000
2003 Triumph Trophy 1200
2009 BMW F650GS (wife's)
1990 HD Sportster XL883 (for sale; wanna buy a Sportster??)

It's a beautiful spring day. The white dogwoods flanking our drive make me just want to sit and stare but before I go back to admiring God's handiwork, I will reply to a couple of postings I recieved from my friends on this site.
I posted this previously when I told about my daughter breaking her collarbone:
"Then, just this week, my 27 year old daughter came over and wanted to sit on my bike...broken collarbone......She doesn't blame me for it but I know it's really my fault. I should never have let her sit on the thing.....Not only am I not a bike rider---I wasn't a very wise mother either and that hurts worst of all. "
I received this post in reply:
"Not to be harsh, but absolute BS. Your 27 year old daughter is an adult. Adults make their own decisions, and accept the consequences thereof. Period. I am a 53 year old man with adult stepchildren, this is something I feel very strongly about."
Now, here's what I have to say about that: Yes, my 27 yr. old daughter is an adult but I still never should have allowed her to sit on my bike and start it. I knew how powerful the bike was and even though I tried to tell her how it was, a simple "no" would have saved a lot of anguish for her and for me. That will be my response from now on. Once again, I have learned a painful lesson. That's why I posted it here--even though I knew I was admitting to not handling something right, I wanted to tell others that you shouldn't even let anyone inexperienced on your bike even if they just want to "walk" it in a field.
Then, Jstark wrote: "Training. Training, training, training, training, training......... You do not have the technique yet to be a good rider. Lack of technique = fear. MSF training lays the foundation for the technique. Technique arms you with the tools to deal with unexpected riding situations. Realizing you have the tools, gradually your fear subsides.

Riding a bike without training is like trying to be a Christian without prayer and scripture. No tools. "

I agree with everything said there. I worked out on my bike in the back field again today. I thought it was a great idea to imagine myself pulling out of my drive (which goes uphill) and making a sharp left and gathering speed quickly. So, I practiced in the field on a hill several times--did the turn signal and everything. I enjoyed it and learned a few things.

As far as the parallells Jstark pointed out----it was my daughter who broke her collarbone, not me. My daughter didn't have her permit either and had never ridden a scooter before. So, the parallels didn't really fit but it was a good story and I was glad to hear that the lady is going to be alright and lived to ride again. I guess that's where I believe the parallel with me is really at. Like I said, in case anyone didn't hear, I am scheduled to take the class. And yes, I do know that there is more to know than I even realize. That's why I signed up for the class. That's why I'm practicing in the field and that's why I'm reading everything I can get my hands on about it. And last but not least, that's why I'm still on this site.
After my daughter's wreck, I didn't think I would drive again. It seemed that there was so much there to convince me to not do it. But there's just something in me that wants to learn and do it right. So, I continue on my learning path and I've learned from my mistakes. But what I really want to learn is how to learn without making the mistakes. That's one reason I appreciate everyone's advice. And if anyone can learn from my mistakes, then I'm glad they don't have to make them like I did.
Also, JStark, thanks for these words: "If you want to ride, and are willing to approach it in a methodical and disciplined way, you can ride. You can become a good and accomplished rider who manages her risk through intelligent and skilled application of riding technique. It's possible. It's your choice."
What a good post. Thanks for caring enough to share those words with me. That's what this site is all about to me! P.S. My daughter is doing well. She's getting around pretty good in that harness and she says she'll never touch a bike again.
But tell me, even after what happened, why do I love my little Grand Vista so much? I look at it sitting in the driveway and I'm like a cat who's just had a whiff of catnip!

_________________
Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com

My autoharp needs fixing and my husband is great at fixing things. However, the autoharp hasn't been one of his success stories. So, I ordered a new one and I'm very excited about getting it.
Now, to pull the random rabbit out of my hat, I'm having a barbecue at my house tomorrow. Three of my grandchildren are coming and two of my daughters and their husbands. My mother will probably come too. I'm hoping that my youngest son will be able to come. He just signed up to join the Marines and although that wasn't my choice for him, I will support him.
I bring up all these different things because they tie in together in my mind. I'm a mother who fears for the life of her son. I don't want him to do dangerous things. I don't want him to take the risk he's taking.
On the other hand, so many people in my family need me and love me. They count on me. Almost two years ago, I had a major accident (not biking related).....required three operations....was laid up for months....and then bought a Yamaha Majesty just as I was getting better.....wrecked it and went backwards as far as my recovery went and added a few new injuries to my list of body parts that don't work quite so well....started getting better again......bought a 250....and now I have my whole family scarred to death for me.
And I don't want my 20 yr. old son to go into the Marines.
I also think about how long it took after my first accident before I was able to hold my violin again. I'm weighing these things in my mind as I visit my daughter and tend to her after she broke her collarbone on my bike. And to tell you the truth, I don't feel like I'm making much sense.
First of all, I do trust God. I asked my son to pray about his decision and he told me he already had...a lot. He is a committed Christian and we made a pact to pray about it together. He still chose the Marines. He feels that God gave him peace about it and is with him in this. That has to be good enough for me.
As we went about our chores in town today, I turned my head at every motorcycle and wished that I was out riding too. But when I got home, I left the 250 in the garage and cared more about checking on the shipment that would bring me my autoharp.
I have a passion for musical instruments and writing songs and singing and if I had to choose between my love for my music and my desire to ride, I'd have to say the music comes first. But who says I have to choose?
I am going on 53 and I know that a lot of people my age are starting to come back to riding....or like me, are trying it for the first time.
Everything that has happened has made me think about how much I treasure my family and how much they treasure me and what risks I am willing to take.
MSF training looms in the future and I am still undecided. Sometimes when I hold one of my grandbabies or play my piano, I wonder if I am willing to place this wonderful gift from God.....this life.....in the hands of sleepy, cell-phone holding motorists.
God has brought me through thus far but He does allow me to make my own choices and sometimes our choices can lead to our demise. I believe it is as simple as that.
One could argue that I could fall off of my front porch tomorrow while watering my flowers and break my neck or find a lump in my breast and get a bad diagnosis.
And then there is the wonderful feeling of taking off and riding. There is a lot to be said for pursuing your passions but sometimes you do have to choose between passions.
I was very impressed once with a young man who gave up basketball because he said it took too much time away from his relationship with God. He was very good...star of the team and all that with good college prospects but the sport interfered with his commitment. (Of course, you can be a Christian and play basketball....that's not the point.) The point is that one thing was so much more important than the other yet the other was taking up most of his time so he gave it up. He's a minister now and God has really used him.
My husband doesn't want me to ride. He's scarred for me too. I almost feel as if I would be giving him a gift if I gave it up.
I definitely have a lot to think about.

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Help me, Jesus!
www.reginarussell.weebly.com