Racing Isaias

Finally, we managed to ride our motorcycles again! Despite some early morning sprinkles dusting the roads with moisture, the remnants of Isaias heading our way held off and the roads dried off enough for our ride.

The wind was strong, keeping me cool throughout the ride but not allowing for any butterflies. I had spotted a few sulphurs and monarchs during the week, but I knew it would be a butterfly-free ride. Though there are those second blooming azaleas flowering along with the mums everyone sets out this time of year to tempt the little pollinators.

The roads had piles of leaves for our tires to crunch over. At one point, the leaves fell in such a way to make it seem like it was snowing. The colors were muted by the gray skies, but it was still a beautiful autumn day. Of course, I was looking through happy eyes as I was thrilled to be back riding again.

I suspected there might be some rust on my riding skills, but it didn’t appear so. My two on-street U-turns were near perfect; perfection would’ve been full lock. I even had a great 2-spot turn on the gravel lot. I did fall into a booby trap. When the leaves are piled on the roads, they can hide objects. As we were turning around in a parking lot, my front tire slipped on some hidden trap causing me to put out my foot in case I needed to dab to catch the bike. But I was able to recover without the dab. I tried to see what I hit, but it remained hidden.

But my experience did remind me to be cautious when riding among leaves. Hitting a rock or a stick just right can shoot the front tire somewhere other than expected. But that’s why one of the many items motorcyclists need to keep aware of.

With the wind and approaching storm, I wasn’t surprised that I didn’t see much wildlife. There were three buzzards trying to navigate the wind, but I had just registered that I hadn’t seen any geese when we rode by the church field, and I watched as the flock took flight. I thought I spotted the great blue heron, but it turned out to be a spindly bush sprouting up near the river’s edge blown in the strong wind. There was a bright white egret enjoying the river’s low tide.

But the most prominent sites were the Halloween decorations. Since we went two weeks without a ride, more people have put up their décor. Popular this year are large spider webs that attach to the front of the house and have LED eyes. The wind gave movement to someone’s three little witches silhouettes and caused a skeleton to dance. One house has a skeleton rock band and a four skeleton audience. I think the Halloween decorations are helpful as well as entertaining; trick or treaters know which houses are participating in the great candy-a-palooza.

I hope to find even more fun Halloween décor on next week’s ride, and I hope for some sunshine so I can really enjoy the fall colors. But as long as I can get out on my R Nine T, I’ll take what I can get.

PS–We beat the storm easily as it seems to have fizzled out over land.

autumn trees on a cloudy day — Photo by Hrushik Perumalla on Pexels.com

Two Missed Rides

My last blog was “Much Needed Moto Therapy” and, after now two weekends with no ride, I am again much needing some moto therapy.

I knew I would miss my ride last weekend. I was out of town. I also knew, looking ahead at the forecast, that rain was threatening the next weekend’s ride. As of Friday, the “experts” predicted rain arriving late in the afternoon, so I went to sleep Friday night dreaming of my ride.

Reality sometimes really stinks. Saturday morning I looked out and saw raindrops glistening off the power lines. The road was not wet—yet, but I realized that there was a soft drizzle falling. The roads would dampen as the morning wore on. My last bit of hope was that the drizzle wasn’t falling over at my parents’ house, but the text response to my query was wet roads there too. The dreariness outside matched my internal dreariness.

Eventually we went over to visit the motorcycles, and Bill added some air to the tires. I said hello to my R Nine T. We might have squeezed in a ride as the roads seemed to have dried off, but we didn’t even bother bringing the gear. Plus, the skies did look like they could open up at any moment.

The beginning of rain on the roads is considered the most dangerous riding conditions—even a light rain. The accumulation of oil, grease, and road grime rise up to the road surface creating a slick, almost icy surface, that doesn’t wash away until heavier rain falls. Of course the heavier rain causes its own risk. Hydroplaning is the obvious risk, but on the two tires of the motorcycle there are only two small contact patches of rubber with the road, so loss of traction is a constant risk. Our rule is never ride in the rain.

Looking ahead, the week looks to be perfect fall weather. As for the weekend, clouds are shown for Saturday with rain chances on Sunday. I’ll be praying all week for the rain to hold off and allow us our ride. Meanwhile, the gray day is a perfect reflection for my mood.

Rain drops on power lines with green and yellow leaves behind.

Much Needed Moto-Therapy

Avast, me hearties! It be “Talk Like a Pirate” day! If you didn’t know, that is a real thing in the same way Friday was National Cheeseburger day. There was treasure to be had, but there was also a near stranding, and my motorcycle ride provided me with some much needed de-stressing.

Our ride almost didn’t happen. I needed to help fix my Mom’s printer, so while I was working on that, Bill decided to reattach the shade hook that had broken off my rear seat shade. He figured out how to get the stuck plastic to move, but he stumbled upon a larger problem when he finished the repair and went to raise the window. The car wouldn’t start. I tried; it made that sick, gasping sound as it tries to catch but dies. The battery light was on, and the car is five years old. Even my Mom knows modern car batteries only seem to last five years. So instead of jumping on our motorcycles and enjoying the sunny day in the low-80s for a ride, Bill removed all the plastic “over-coating” to get the battery out.

We had some luck. Within my Dad’s remain tools (brothers have borrowed the rest), was the just right size long socket wrench to remove the battery bolts. And, because the battery died at my parents’ house, I could borrow my Mom’s car to head to Autozone to buy a new battery. Three hundred dollars and almost two hours later, Bill was installing the new Duralast battery, the car started and, hot, sweaty, and tired, we could finally ride.

While the car repair operation was underway, I had the chance to watch the Blue Angels which were performing at the air show. They were miles away, but I could clearly see two blue jets flying up and around in a tandem loop. Mostly I listened to them as I held an umbrella to provide Bill some shade from the sun. I hoped for a close fly by like I saw last year, but no luck. Our luck was used up with the car situation. I had fun spotting the tiny jets flying in and out of the fluffy clouds. I managed to catch the wavy contrail of one of the jets as it flew straight up.

Later than planned, we finally were able to gear up and head out on the motorcycles—the reason we were there. I had managed to fix my Mom’s printer; the computer mostly just needed some serious updates. Because the afternoon had been so stressful, I was extra careful with my awareness. I noted the shadows from the trees were longer across the roads, so I looked more carefully for hidden hazards. That didn’t make the ride stressful; it was the opposite. The air rushing over me cooled me off, and I enjoyed the R Nine T leaning and falling away from me in the turns. Bursts of speed made me laugh out loud, and I almost thoroughly enjoyed the ride. Almost.

Halfway into the zooming, my chin started to itch badly enough that I actually tried to get to it. My full-face helmet prevented me any access to scratch the itch. I tried blowing air down on it. But I had to endure it until the itch went away as mysteriously as it appeared. I laughed about it because it seemed par for the day.

The only wildlife I spotted were two squirrels off on the sidewalks. The mornings have been dipping into the 60s, so butterflies are soon going to disappear for the season. Fall arrives next week and, if it keeps giving me cool days like today for motorcycle riding, I’ll take all they bring.

blue sky with jet contrail rising up from wispy cloud

Look Out!

The weather pattern as we approach autumn seems to have hit a rut. The days warm up into the week, and storms break out as the weekend approaches. Friday night hit us with some heavy rain, and Saturday held on to large, looming storm clouds. Luckily, the rain held off and the roads dried enough for our ride, but it does seem like we’ve depended on luck a lot lately to get a ride in.

Since it was so cloudy, I didn’t expect to see any butterflies. I did get to spot a monarch, black swallowtail, and a large orange sulphur butterfly the day before as my job let me spend most of my time outside. I chased a summer azure in the grass trying to get a picture, but no luck. I enjoyed the distraction from the heat of the day. Saturday gave us a slight break from the heat but not the humidity. Bill noted that just get the motorcycles out of the garage left him with a plastered t-shirt.

But as we rode, there was enough of a breeze to keep me comfortable. I did enjoy every opportunity to zoom a bit and increase the wind flow. I noted more signs of autumn. Joining the brown pine needles along the berm of the road were brown, red, and yellow crape myrtle leaves. Among the trees, more colors beyond green could be spotted in the leaves. Even as the magnolias kept their blooms as did some of the crape myrtles.

People are ready for fall. I spotted someone with a pumpkin already sitting on their porch, and I even saw my first Halloween blow ups, including one that was a “ghoul” bus. A “Welcome Fall” flag was flying as were several NFL team flags. We passed through a gauntlet of parked cars as someone held a watch party for the college games. I even saw my first eddy of brown leaves dance across the road.

About half way through our ride, which was going exceedingly well for me—all street on the U-turns, lovely leaning in on turns—when the collision happened. I saw it coming, and I suppose I target fixated just a bit. Seemingly from nowhere, a maple tree seed pod came spinning into my line of sight. By the time I went to swerve, the pod collided with my visor with a thwick before moving on. I am disappointed in myself for not swerving. As we head fully into autumn, I should have more opportunities to dodge flying debris. And I can hardly wait for the chance on next week’s ride.

yellow, red, and green leaves against a cloudy sky

Caught by the Rain

Last week I wrote about how motorcycle riders are at the whim of the weather. This week we tried an earlier start to beat the afternoon rain, and we almost made it. Luckily, we were only caught be a soft few drops and not the downpour that came later. My first realization of the rain was the drops on my visor, but it wasn’t enough of a rain to leave drops on the tank of the R Nine T.

The clouds worked with the temperature to make for a comfortable last weekend of the summer ride. While autumn doesn’t officially begin until September 22, this being Labor Day weekend, it usually demarcates summer’s end. Kids everywhere are back in school (or will be on Tuesday). Many families were out walking together to enjoy their time together, and the traffic was light.

The second warning of the impending rain was the one gaggle of geese I spotted. They were standing as still as statues under the cover of a stand of cherry trees. They were so still that I had ridden past them going up the road and didn’t see them until coming back up the road at sitting at the stop sign. And while I had spotted a monarch butterfly crossing the road as we drove over, I didn’t hold out much hope of seeing any butterflies under the clouds. However, I lucked into spotting a cabbage white crossing in front of us as we headed into the church parking lot to work on fast figure eights. What surprised me was how quickly the little guy disappeared among the vincas and azaleas.

My ride was fun but not entirely smooth. The on-street U-turns both went into the grass; the first one due to me having to divert as I came up quicker on Bill than expected. The second one, I don’t know what happened; I just was wide and let myself roll onto the grass. I did enjoy the lean on my turns, the almost falling sensation. In my mind I compared it to riding a roller coaster except on the motorcycle, I’m in charge of the car.

Luckily, when the rain started, it was very soft so the roads didn’t get wet. We headed back to the garage, and I was happy to have gotten the ride in. It’s been a lucky summer for motorcycle rides, and I hope, as I notice more hints of autumn, the fall gives us more of the same.

yellow cherry tree leaves among the green leaves

Roadkill Ride

When it comes to riding motorcycles, riders are at the whim of the weather. Looming storm clouds gave me an “iffy” feeling about a ride. But my weather app said storms weren’t expected until later in the afternoon, so we headed out despite the skies looking ready to open up at any moment. As long as the rain held off, it was a perfect day for a ride. The temperature was in the low 80s and, even with the large clouds, the humidity wasn’t too bad, making the ride quite comfortable.

I remembered to lift up my kickstand before shifting into first starting off the ride right. Before we headed out, I spotted three different butterflies—a black swallowtail, an Aphrodite fritillary, and a cabbage white. I thought that meant I’d have a butterfly filled ride, but those three were it!

However, I did see signs of autumn’s approach. We passed several larger flocks of geese with two different groups crossing the road in front of us. Our engine roars also disturbed a flock of robins who’ve been congregating more as they prepare for their annual migration.

The pine trees have also begun shedding their needles leaving clumps of brown needles along the berm of the roads and a delicious piney scent in the air. But not every scent in the air is pleasant from the seat of a motorcycle. As we rode past where the river abuts the road, I noticed a furry clump on the berm what looked to be a run over muskrat. Heading out for the ride, I did what I always do when spotting anything like roadkill; I held my breath until we were well past.

Soon after passing, we rode past a clump of gardenias in bloom, and I breathed in their sweet scent deeply knowing they won’t be blooming for much longer. I love the colors of the flowers under cloudy skies. They seem like a muted oil painting adding splashes of color to the deep greens but not vivid bouquets dominating the landscape. I looked for changing leaves among the trees but didn’t notice too many though the Japanese maples are beginning to deepen in color.

My ride went well, no mis-shifts at all, though my U-turns were kind of lazy and wider than when I really work them. I didn’t mind; I needed this ride to restore me after my first week back with students; kids are energy vampires and they had zapped me. So my ride was in part restorative. But I did have one major slip up.

As we headed back up the river road, and since we were on the opposite side from the dead muskrat, I wasn’t as focused on my breathing as I should’ve been. I caught a whiff of roadkill through my helmet vents (thank goodness my visor was down). The scent of decay lingered until I passed a large stand of crape myrtles and was able to breathe in deeply their fresh, clean scent. But I’ve learned that even when I desperately need a relaxing ride, I can’t relax my road awareness even for a moment. If I do, the consequences can be nasty.

I did spot several vultures during the ride, but they hadn’t found the muskrat yet. It did remind me of the ride where Bill on the Rocket startled a group of vultures dining on some roadkill once. Even roadkill needs defensive riding when on a motorcycle.

Hopefully, next week’s ride will give further hints of autumn with less unpleasantness.

muskrat entering a river — Photo by Tom Fisk on Pexels.com

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.