Comfort Zone

I have always been a motorcyclist. Even when I gave up my custom café racer for an automobile, then later as I drove a pickup truck, I was still a biker at heart. You know me, I was one of the few drivers who gave you extra room when you wanted to pass, or I held further back in traffic so you wouldn’t have to worry about being crowded. I eventually married and had children. Therefore, swinging my leg over a motorcycle was about the furthest thing from being on my mind. I had joined the Rat Race and I was indentured in suburbia.

A few years back one of my old military buddies, Billy, came out from New Hampshire with his daughter for a visit. He dragged me to the HD shop near my home and he nearly had to force me to look at the Buells. I was reluctant because the last bike I had was a two-stroke café racer that I built myself back in the ‘70s. Billy wanted me to test ride the Buell. I regret not doing so now; I probably would have really enjoyed myself. My kids were still young then, my wife is not a motorcycle person. And to top it all off I didn’t have the money to spend on something that would give pleasure only to me.

As Billy and I kept in touch over the next few years, the subject of motorcycles had always been a main topic for us. His urging for me to get a motorcycle drifted from the Buell to BMW as he simultaneously made the move himself. Billy now rides an R1200C, one of those James Bond BMW cruisers.

For about a one-year period, as Billy and I talked, owning a motorcycle became a possibility in the back of my mind. I wanted one and all I had to do was to sell the idea to the wife. I figured it would be hard but what in life is easy that comes with true value? I had learned long ago that the things you really have to work for are the ones you value the most. I started leaving little hints. A little comment here, a short talk about motorcycles there, pointing out a rider’s style and general motorcycle protocol, as we would see bikers on the road. I worked on it until the fruit was ripe and ready for picking.

The day of reckoning came. We were at the BMW dealer to get her a 5 Series. It was either that or a Lexus. She definitely deserved such a luxury car after raising two kids and putting up with me for over 23 years. In Long Beach, the BMW Motorrad and automobile dealerships were the same. As I walked around the showroom, looking at the latest BMW bikes, I realized how much I wanted a motorcycle again.

I thought to myself “Its now or never.” I was unfamiliar with the models available, especially from BMW, but whatever model I would get. It would have a large saddle and an upright riding style. No more café racers for me.

Without going into detail, lets just say she got her 5 Series; I got my R1150RT.

Being the pragmatic person that I am, the only factors in my choice of a motorcycle were the BMW label, a traditional Boxer twin engine, and a large wide saddle. The BMW label was my choice because when I rode in Europe in the early 1970’s, long before the Gold Wing hit the scene, those were the most reliable and smoothest ride there ever was. Even if the transmission was a little clunky. The saddle issue was because I am not 21 anymore.

It was easy… I wanted an RT.

So there I was a few weeks later, with my wife, taking possession of my first motorcycle in about 25 years. I thought I would just hop on and ride. I learned to ride a motorcycle on a motocross-racing bike and I had many hours under my belt riding dirt bikes in the deserts of Southern Idaho. I had ridden all over Western Europe on my first street bike, a little Honda dual sport, and I rode throughout the great northwest on my café racer. I thought it would be just like riding a bicycle. You never forget how to ride a bicycle, right?

Nope. It is not just like riding a bicycle. I had lost my skills. I had to ask the previous owner of my new/used BMW to please help me get it down his driveway and into the street because I was afraid I may drop it and that would not be good, especially in front of my disbelieving wife. She followed me all the way home and I don’t know which one of us was more fearful. I am sure she thought I was trying to kill myself; I was just trying to keep from doing something stupid.

Most of that first year back to riding a motorcycle was devoted to becoming comfortable on an overweight and top-heavy monster of a sport touring motorcycle. The later versions of the RT are much lighter with about the same engine. I practiced slow speed maneuvers and balance. I practiced seat position adjustments while entering turns, and I worked on my balance. I read books on riding style and safety to refresh myself and I researched how to tune the suspension on sport bikes. I mentally practiced riding even when I was not on the bike.

Eventually, I felt comfortable enough riding my BMW. About half way into the first year I realized I had broken one of my primary rules about buying a motorcycle; start out small. I just wasn’t ready for that big of a bike.

Eric F. was my best friend after I got setup in San Pedro to continue my education. He called me out of the blue one day and told me he had bought a brand new Ninja. Eric had never ridden a motorcycle before, his interest in motorcycles came from one Sunday afternoon ride he had on the back of my Kawasaki in and around the Palos Verdes peninsula. Eric ignored my warnings to learn to ride on something small then progress up to something killer like the Ninja. Within two weeks, he had crashed his bike, nearly escaping broken bones, and it was the last for him. Eric has never been on a motorcycle since then. That ninja was scrap from the accident. Without any training he was just not ready to ride that caliber of a motorcycle.

Every morning when I leave my house for work, usually within the first three blocks or so, I mentally verify everything off a short checklist in my head. It is a little something I became familiar with when I learned to fly Cessna airplanes. One of the main items I check is the feel of the bike on the road. This is how I verify that I am mentally ready to ride today.

As I commute to work each day on my Beemer, I am reminded that each of us has a Comfort Zone where we are in control and nothing bad can happen. My Comfort Zone is because I am sure that every element of riding is correct for each situation. This means that I have continually checked everything off my mental checklist of safety items. You know that feeling, it’s when you just know that you are in control and can anticipate any possible hazard. It usually occurs when you are having one of those great rides.

Ride safe, more to come next time.