Goofy Ride

Part of riding a motorcycle is developing routines. There is the routine of T-CLOCS* that they teach riders in the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course. There is the routine of gearing up—in my case Daytona riding boots, Alpinestars jacket, Klim jacket (for summer), Helite turtle airbag vest, helmet, and gloves. And there is the routine at the start of the ride—mounting the motorcycle, connecting the airbag vest, unlocking the front wheel, checking that the motorcycle is in neutral, turning the front wheel to make it easier to lift off the stand, kicking in the kickstand, starting the motorcycle with right hand on the front brake just in case, and shifting into first gear ready to roll. All routine motions that at this point don’t require too much brainpower. Except when my brain skips one step in the routine.

It was a lucky summer day for riding. Some overnight rain had given us cooler temperatures in the low 80s. And while large looming storm clouds hinted at a future deluge, the sun was out and the rain left us alone for our ride. I even spotted a yellow sulphur butterfly before the ride, a good omen of more butterfly sightings during my ride.

I needed a good ride. As a teacher librarian in my grown-up life, I had spent the week prepping for the new school year, made extra exhausting by my needing to reshelve two-thirds of my book collection having gotten new windows and bookshelves over the summer. I felt lucky the weather cooperated, and I was eager to start my riding therapy. Perhaps I was a little too eager because I skipped a step in my routine.

In some ways I was also lucky that this misstep happened at the onset of the ride because that gave me an awareness of needing to stay aware during my ride. The step I skipped doesn’t seem like a big deal; I forgot to kick up the kickstand when I pulled the R Nine T up. As a safety feature, the R Nine T won’t let the rider shift into gear with the kickstand down. So when I shifted from neutral into first, my motor shut off. It took me a few beats to realize the problem was the kickstand because when the motor kicked off, I couldn’t get the R Nine T back into neutral. I’ve had some missed shifts during rides, and I’ve had instances of arriving in the garage to park and not be able to shift into neutral, but I’ve never had the problem at the start of a ride.

Of course, I’m not in the habit of forgetting to raise the kickstand. When a motorcycle resists shifting into neutral, it is helpful to reach down with the left hand and wiggle the shifter around until it finds neutral. After what seemed like five minutes but was probably only one, I found neutral, lifted the motorcycle off the kickstand, kicked up the stand, and shifted into first gear, ready to ride. One little step in the routine forgotten delayed both Bill and I.

My slip up did make me extra conscientious about checking my mirrors and looking ahead into oncoming traffic and intersections. This extra awareness helped me with an emergency stop late in the ride. But as we headed out with a cool breeze, I did enjoy the crape myrtle scent freshened by last night’s rain. I also enjoyed the fresh cut grass as people took advantage of the beautiful day to be outside doing yardwork, walking, or riding bikes.

During the ride, I had two mis-shifts, so I found myself listening for the thwunk of the gears shifting. As I listened for my shifts, I still managed to spot a black swallowtail camouflaging itself in the shadows of an azalea bush. And we passed a gaggle of geese enjoying the circle of shade provided by a magnolia tree. I managed to spot a falcon in between all the crows. And as I finished executing a beautiful two-spot U-turn in the gravel lot, a monarch butterfly flew by.

Our ride was mostly just us with some people out and about, but when we encountered traffic, it was in odd ways. The first oddity was as we approached a chokepoint in the road. We navigated around an electric Amazon deliver van to find ourselves slowing way down (footless stop almost) as we waited on a car to come through the chokepoint at the exact time two pedestrians arrived at the chokepoint. Later, as we neared the end of our ride and were zooming our last bit of zoom, I realized Bill was stopping and slammed on my brakes as oncoming traffic arrived faster than expected and prevented our left-hand turn. I managed my emergency stop without having to put my feet down because the R Nine T is so well-balanced.

*A link to the MSF page explaining the acronym.

black motorcycle with kickstand down — Photo by Baran Karakelle on Pexels.com

Earache Ride

The most important piece of safety equipment for a motorcycle rider is the helmet, of course. Riding jeans, jackets, and gloves help to prevent the need for skin grafts if a rider crashes, but the helmet protects one’s noggin, so it is the most necessary piece of equipment. Surprisingly, it is only required equipment in 17 states and Washington DC. I, of course, always ride with my helmet.

For a helmet to be effective, it must be snug. By snug, I mean tight. If one wonders how tight a helmet needs to be, look at a geared-up MotoGP rider like Marc Marquez; his cheeks are pushed into wrinkles from the tightness. I don’t tighten up that much, but I do cinch my helmet. And for today’s ride, I cinched it in such a way that my left ear folded over and was pinched, painfully so, the entire ride. Hence the earache ride.

I used the pain to help me focus on the road. It made focusing a challenge because, as most of us know, pain is quite distracting. It was helpful that two miles into the ride I spotted a cabbage white butterfly flitting among the white and pink vincas. I was surprised to see the butterfly because there were four kids seeking something among the vincas and azaleas.

During the ride, I also saw gatherings of Canadian geese. I’ve also spotted robins beginning to congregate, sure signs that autumn is approaching. And the day was pleasant for the middle of August. Muggy with some humidity, but the overnight rain gave us some relief. Additionally, there was a cool breeze blowing that kept the ride comfortable—except for my left ear.

During the week, I’ve seen several tiny butterflies, the kind that flutter up from the grass when one walks across it. I realized that these are the butterflies I never spot from the road. In fact this blog was originally going to focus on them until the earache incident. I’ve spotted two tiny white butterflies, or perhaps the same one twice. I think they are what is known as a summer azure. What amazed me was after an initial nervous flutter as I squatted down to capture him on camera, he returned one clover over and posed for the picture below.

Seeing these little guys made me realize that on those rides where I didn’t spot any of their larger kin, these guys were still down among the grass and clovers. Now on today’s ride I did spot another big brother, a black swallowtail flew over our heads across the road. And as I was loading the gear, a checkered white butterfly flew around me and the car close enough I thought it might flutter inside the car.

So despite the pain, I had a fantastic ride. I should’ve tried to fix the ear, but I actually had tried, having already taken the helmet off once. My ear seemed determined to fold over. I’m kind of proud that I didn’t opt to loosen the helmet, choosing my safety over comfort. I am hoping that this was a freak ear fold and it won’t happen again. I think I may have come down straighter with the helmet than from the front. I’ll figure out the issue so next week’s ride will be more comfortable; well, as long as the temperatures agree. We’re still a month away from official autumn, but I hope the geese and robins gathering mean autumn-like temperatures are on their way!

tiny white butterfly on white clover flower — The summer azure posing on the clover for me.

Shade and Shadows

Last week it was the humidity, this week’s ride was the heat. The sun was shining brightly around the large, fluffy cotton ball clouds. And the sun was burning hot. The garage thermostat went from 87 degrees up to 88 as we prepped to ride. When riding in heat, the goal is to keep moving to keep the air flowing over one.

As I headed out of the garage, I saw a shadow in the shape of a butterfly. When I got outside, I think I spotted the cabbage white heading into the branches of the neighbor’s magnolia tree. Otherwise, I only saw a couple of dragonflies.

I was thankful for my yellow seat as Bill pushed up off his black seat which had baked in its few minutes sitting in that sun. I braced myself for being uncomfortable during the ride and worked on forcing my focus on my road awareness and safety. As we rode, I sought out patches of shade to ride through. Physically, I’m not sure it was that much cooler, but psychologically, it helped.

Again, other than some ducks deep in the shade over the river inlet, not much wildlife was moving. People wise, I only saw two tween girls out walking and a young man returning from the store. When it’s too hot for yard work, it’s hot. I managed two beautiful all street on-street U-turns, but that was the only slow-speed drill we did. I enjoyed zooming up the fast road in one direction, but on the return trip up that road, we were stuck behind a slow-moving Ford Expedition.

I did get to work on my throttle skill as I had to park the motorcycle and open the garage. I’ve described how steep the driveway is; it doesn’t flatten out until the garage floor. So when I restarted the R Nine T, I had to keep the motorcycle from rolling backwards down the driveway. Now I could try and rely just on my leg strength, but that would mean my legs are working to stop over 500 pounds with gravity’s help. So the trick is to roll on the throttle enough to not only prevent the motorcycle from rolling backwards but to gently move into the garage. It’s not like I can zoom unless I want to go through the walls. And I’m happy to say I nailed it.

The best part of the hot day was as Bill and I were taking off our gear and chatting, a black swallowtail butterfly flew halfway into the garage before turning around and flying out. Every ride gives me something special to smile about.

Muggy Ride

As we enter August, we usually start hearing about the triple Hs—hazy, hot, and humid. There’s even a saying, “It’s not the heat; it’s the humidity.” And today’s ride was proof it’s all due to the humidity.

We hadn’t ridden half a block before I felt that uncomfortable moist sensation in my armpits. The day itself was beautiful for August—sunny, breezy, and temperatures in the upper 80s. But it was humid. I kept my visor up for the ride so I could feel some air flow. It didn’t really help.

Since the sun was out, I was hoping to see some butterflies. During the week, I’ve spotted tiger swallowtails, black swallowtails, cabbage whites, and even one sulphur. But during the ride, the wildlife was mostly absent. There were a few bees and dragonflies about, and I spotted some ducks on the river in the shade, but I didn’t see any butterflies, birds, or squirrels. Except, I did spot two raptors high aloft in the sky; too high to determine if they were vultures or something more interesting. It was only as I headed toward the garage that I managed to spot an osprey rising up for an afternoon snack hunt.

Most of the activity we encountered was in traffic. Many people were zooming by in their air conditioned cars. A few intrepid young men were out doing some yard work, and we did cross paths with a young man riding a white sports bike, a Kawasaki Ninja I think. I gave him the two-fingered motorcycle wave back and wondered briefly as he went past us again if he was going to try and join us in our parking lot drill. He didn’t. We must’ve looked odd to him. He was out riding in jeans and a short-sleeve t-shirt, his only protection his helmet. We’re geared up in thick riding boots, Kevlar jeans and jackets, safety vests, gloves and our helmets, even on a summer day. But perhaps we gave him something to think about. Jeans and t-shirts are fine as long as one stays on the motorcycle, but any kind of tumble onto the pavement, and bare arms get shredded.

I had a near tumble. I finally returned to the gravel lot for some practice, and I expected my skills to be rusty. So when a large rock caused my front wheel to slip, I was ready to dab and catch the motorcycle, but I didn’t have to. I was able to recover my balance and keep going, but I laughed to help relieve the adrenaline rush. And it made me hope for nice enough weather next week to return to the gravel for some more practice even if it has to be a muggy ride.

white sports bike Kawasaki Ninja 650 — Similar to the sports bike that passed us twice.