Hi, Folks,
I posted this on the BMWSportTouring.com forum. The have a "riding techniques" form there, Riding Well that I enjoy reading and contributing to. Wish we had one here too.
Anyway, there's a tale here about our FJR group's ride up to Avila Beach for paella that I hope you'll enjoy. As for the rest of it... Well, I hope that's of some use, and enjoyable too.
Best wishes.
I had and interesting experience this weekend that pointed up to me how much more important Policy is than Rules, and the extensive value of Principals and Fundamentals. Earlier today I posted about the broader applicability of the principal "Keep Riding - Never Give Up" than we usually give to it - What to do when things go to hell in a handbasket. "Keeping in the Game", "Doing Riding", when we actually do that, is how we can keep from getting into the more dire cirucmstances that now demand we pay full attention, and keep managing our progress through What's Out There. In other words, fully and always doing, "Keep Riding" is how we stay out of most Troubles.
Well, there's another one, another Fundamental, that has that "further applicability". Principals are just that, "first things", things which (wisely) lay at the bottom of perhaps a hierarchy of actions, decisions, or understanding, in realms of increasing complexity and/or broader applicability. Fundamentals are things rooted in Principals, such as ideas, concepts, basic actions and such from which other more complext things are built and flow. The word Fundamental shares its root with Fountain. "Ride your own Ride" is one of these actions that is more broadly applicable than ussually thought about. That's because it is rooted in deeply valuable Principals.
Here's a tale:
Saturday, I joined a group of California riders from FJRForum.com for a gathering in Avila Beach for Paella. Steve1150 from BMWSportTouring.com has led some groups there. Delightful spot. Great food. And it's reached through gorgeous contryside.
"Our group" met in Ventura off the 101 freeway at Victoria for a 9AM departure. Other groups headed down from CenCal, and other groups formed from rider's accumlating northward from San Diego, and so on.
We delayed departure for a few straggling arrivals and then headed up CA-126 for Ojai. There we headed over the top of Lake Casitas on winding CA-150, through some traffic at perhaps a considered slow pace, but got it done with, and at the avocado groves, turned off onto CA-192. This route, with the build-up of civilization over the past 20-odd years has become nearly a city street, passing gladiolus and other fresh flower fields, other nursuries, and a number of farms giving way to housing developments. It still passes the Polo Field, and even visibly skirts the 101 as it heads into ritzy San Ysidro. Its tight, curvy, and visits and shares canyon off-shoots as it nears Santa Barbara and takes on the name, Foothill Boulevard. Good riding. Even in these modern times = On a weekday when there's no Traffic. None the less, it's still a good way over to CA-154, San Marocs Pass, on a normal Saturday morning.
Three or four miles into 192 and it became clear this Saturday was not "normal". We nosed forward, feet at a time, getting up to an intersection. From my spot about twelfth of about 14 riders, my view of proceedings was blocked by trees for a long time. But, it was apparent there was a traffic jam.
Leader turned left toward the nearby freeway rather than right to follow the original route. He's a local so he knew we could make three miles parallel to the also blocked freeway on its little traveled other side. There we had to cross back over the freeway, and get on amongst its barely moving vehicles.
Lane splitting ensued. The Numbers 1 and 2 lane gap was quite narrow because of reduced lane width to fit more lanes in the road space, and going was very slow. The two-up rider directly ahead of me was having some difficulties, occasionally tapping cars' rear bumpers with his saddlebag rub strips, both feet down, as he threaded his way through. His passenger was making things tougher than needed, bobbing her hear to gain a view over first one of his shoulders and then another, and having to move her torso to do so. I'm sure she was uncomfortable, but certainly didn't understand what it took to be successful at this, and didn't know how to contribute to the solution rather than the problem. He slowed way down, and I backed several cars behind him, crawling, even stopping with feet up, easily controlling the bike balance with the handle bars.
About three miles on we left the freeway and encounterd The Road Block. A truck had spilled oil or fuel closing the freeway at this point. Traffic was being diverted off here, but was being diverted back in the opposite direction on the frontage road because there was some spill on it too.
Leader chatted with The CalTrans Guy. Told him he was a local. Got told, "Well, the cop's not back yet..."
U-turn. Through the barriers and down the frontage road. Passed the returning CHP officer coming the other way. Hope his chiropracter fixes his neck.
We got back on the empty freeway, accelerated to 80, and eventually encountered light traffic joining the freeway. Our pace was higher that the traffic. So we threaded our way through it as we passed the center of Santa Barbara, out past The Fair Grounds, and then along the coast. I couldn't see the leader well, or at least continuously, now as about the 10th rider in the group. So, I waited for a clear shot and zipped around a two-up couple, and then a single rider.
Nearing El Capitan, the riders were strung out a bit, and lane changing of our group seemed ragged. I passed two more riders and tucked in right side, staggered, not behind, but "with", a rider I'd directly followed out of Ojai who I'd seen take precise lines into the curves.
Sixth now, I felt in a Group with the riders ahead as we slipped by, right side, passed some slower cars in the fast lane. Our speed rose to about 85 for a while doing that, and settled back in to 80. It was nearing 11:30, we'd passed by the turn-off to San Marcos Pass, and our route up Foxen Canyon. We were making time. It seemed we had a 12:30 planed arrival for lunch, though that had not been stated. I computed the time it would have normally taken me across Foothill, up San Marcos, and the distance I know my previously untravled Foxen would be. It came close to a 12:30 arrival. Leader had us on pace.
Rider Seven, directly behind me, would appear and disappear in my mirror, irking me. Riding Staggered, if you can't see the rider ahead's face in his/her mirror... they can't see you. They very much are going to want to keep track of your position. So, it's distracting work, potentially dangerous work, for them to keep track of you.
We zipped through some staggered cars at accellerated speed. Finally, Number Seven stayed back a little further, in sight now. Beyond Refugio we turned north with the freeway and through the small, winding pass. I really wanted to go faster, but even at our Pace Speed of 80, handling the corners called for some lean angle down around that "human comfort zone" of 30 degrees. Leader varied speed as required to produce smooth threading through the cars, and our tight Group Of Six simply Blitzed It.
Rider Seven, and the thickness of riders I couldn't make out now showed up in my mirror as about a third to a half mile behind. We kept on, relentless, but smooth. My Guy, Mr. Left signaled lane changes to the left, blink, blink, Move, and I would follow at the same pace of displacement, both of us ending the motion together, both turning off our turn signals at the same time. To the right, he'd check the mirror, give a quick look over his shoulder, I'd signal just as his came on, and we'd move in unison to the right line, and finish together.
Two Pairs did that. One rider, with Leader, didn't. Rather than 5 or six feet behind, and aside, they were 10 to 20 feet back. Leader was gauging lane changes -- off #6 to move as a group. Other times, he'd pace up just when the gap would allow Pairs to make the change, One Pair, Two Pair, Third Pair. It would work out, and be incredibly smooth -- except those times Number Two became "independent". Then the following pairs would need to slow, do several mirror checks, and then dive to make it, or totally reject the opportunity as "too close".
About 45 minutes later, the "second group" caught up as we turned off onto Sycamore Canyon, and single-filed it past the Nuclear Plant, along the beach with its expansive lagoon view, and into the parking lot for the pier. As we unsuited, Leader headed onto the pier an toward our lunch spot.
Walking out, taking pictures of the sea lions, and looking for the eatery, six two-up FJRs rode down the pier and parked. As they alighted and undressed for the warm, 80 degree sunshine, we gathered and introduced ourselves. Over paella they related they had backed off to a more comfortable pace.
Another group arrived while we were waiting. They had crossed on 166 after a run up I-5. The "way south guys" had started with daylight, and then together at the San Gabriels, took the shorter route North rather than stive to catch up to us. Another segment heard the 101 had been closed and joined them.
Lunch was grand. I enjoyed it, and the new company greatly. But 2PM was passing. I had a straight shot home if I took CA-166 East, then into the mountains up The Grapevine Grade, and across the high desert of The Andelope Valley. It would be cold by the time I'd covred the 200 miles over there. Darkness would fall, and I'm not as well night sighted any more. So I began packing up. As I did, I heared one of the riders relate the Mission San Antonio was enclosed in the confines of Fort Hunter-Liggett. One of the northern couples was fascinated and decided to stop there on their way home.
I heard one couple had broken off at Buellton, low on fuel. They had come up from Laguna Hills, down south in Orange County. They had about a 120 mile ride up to Ventura and hadn't had time to refuel before we took off. Had our route played out, they would have had a chance to stop for gas. But, we had been on the road a solid, non-stop. three and a half hours to get to Avila Beach, covering over 180 miles in that time, despite our clawing over mountain roads, and creeping through traffic. I'm certain they were pooped. But, they had dinner resevations and lodging there. They later posted they had the chance to tour Solvang (An Old Danish Community), some museums, and a couple of wineries, and still make dinner on time.
I rode out alone and gassed up in Pismo Beach. I turned onto CA-166 just north of Santa Maria and recalled two things. I had been fortunate to cross East to West on it before it was "improved" to a high speed, two lane thoroughfare from the goat track it had been that clung to the steep mountain cliff-sides I gazed up at. And secondly, that I had last crossed here on my K1200RS and wrote about it in "The K-Bike Kronicles", telling how the ever increasing performance of bikes across the decades had yielded a bike I could travel through here at speeds that now made me uncomfortable. The big RS would haul down from the far side of The Ton, and roll in to the bouncy sweepers at 80 to 90, and I had not a moment to spare from attending to that process. Perhaps I really did, but crashing at these higher speeds made me think it prudent to attend strictly to business.
As we rode across the first sixteen miles of cuts through mountainous cattle country, and then just mountains, I noticed I felt much more relaxed on the FJR. I was about 5 mph slower now than I had been on the K1200RS, and wondered if that alone was the cause. So I upped the pace a bit, and still felt well in control, with lots of lean left, and good ability to set the bike, and also change its line in corner if I so chose. I noticed my head was "up", the neck angle of the allowed riding position was more upright. I could see the road better; My sense of balance was bett4er. Glances to the scenery came easily. I slowed back down, 80 vs. 90 in the corners, and not much faster on the straights.
The sixteen miles seemed to pass very, very quickly. "The Tree" that marks the first Transition Corner from the Mountain Crossing, into the tighter corners again entering Cattle Country, showed up way more early than my heart expected it. The next 20 miles over to New Cuyama passed quickly too, and I stopped there slightly over a hundred miles into my return. That's longer than I usually ride in a stint. None the less, I felt well, a good meal being a help, and temps in the low 70's being welcome.
I rode on across the grade into Maricopa, some 30 or 40 miles further on, and put on my jacket liner and overpants. I stopped again before getting on I-5 and changed out of my sunglasses into clear ones. On up The Grapevine, I threaded traffic in steeply cooling temps, and then descended with the turn off onto CA-139 on down toward CA-14 and home in Lancaster.
The dying light silhoutted the hills along the San Andreas Fault in shimmering shades of salmon and pale azure tones, melding in a swirl of consciousness swaying my mind to see only a colorful unison, one much more welcomed than the dark carpet upon which arose one and another points of desert residence marking pinpoints of light. Ahead, headlights marked the space between there and here available to pass an eighteen-wheeler, or a gaggle of cars. With each mile they became more and more distinctly the only markers of space and time, and Progress.
Home, I turned off the GPS, tucked away the V1, and covered the bike. Inside, I began undressing, and greeted Puf The Cat, who, he said loudly, was ready for dinner.
A quick look out as I closed the door told me night had fully fallen, and another Ride was over.
Cool, huh?
But what about "Ride Your Own Ride"?
OK. So, riding down some curvey road, I yell in the radio to a friend, "Joe! Let him get about 4 seconds ahead. Then you'll have a clear view of the corner upcoming, can assess it fullly, match your resources to it, set your OWN plan to handle it, and do so without distractions."
Joe nods, and responds, "Right".
And with that, his lines begin to clean up. He gets smoother; I can see the chassis set, the swingarm sucks up early in the corner, and I find I'm now running hard out of the corners myself without running up too close to the back of him.
What's that about?
Examining the Fundamental, the FURTHER useful, datum, concept, skill, or understanding, "Ride Your Own Ride", I find in it some Principles:
[*]Have clear Objective(s)
[*]Prioritize Objectives or Aims
[*]Gain a full and clear sense of the Circumstances you're about to ride into
[*]Have, understand, and be willing and able to use the Resources you bring to the Ride
[*]Plan how to apply them to the Circumstances - including Contingencies
[*]Follow the Plan, and its Continencies where warranted.
Repeat those as "steps"
That applies to, and is pretty easily seen about, a corner up ahead. Each item could be reviewed and then done for this upcoming corner. And then, the next one. And, so on.
So too do these things apply to an entire Ride. In the tale above, Leader certainly had, and very well
defined, some Objectives. And they got Prioritized.
And then, he met them. He went about accomplishing them.
Hey! The Circumstances changed. So did his plan. Dozens of times. Perhaps, just perhaps, Continously. But always, he, not Circumstances, was in charge.
He got us all there in Good Order.
He got us there on time for lunch.
We got to cover some intersting, and also unexpected Ground.
We got to exercise our mounts, great bikes, to quite extreme levels at times.
We got to exercise our skills as Riders. And as Managers of our own Rides.
Of that last one, I'll point out that Mr. Left Guy and I "joined up" during that ride. In close proximity, we Agreed, from what we had been continuously learning about each other's handling of our bikes in Circumstances. We joined and rode as a Unit. From there on, "own ride" was one quite fully shared among Us Two. Cool, huh?
I think we all grew a bit from this ride.
And in many different ways.
So?
Well, how many times can you identify in the tale above, Riders wisely applying the Principals behind the Fundamental, "Ride your own ride", or not so wisely ignoring them?
Please understand, your answers don't have to please me, or even be posted. And. I'm not going to rate anyone because they got "Ten out of Twelve", or anything like that.
I'm only after, hopefully, expanding our sense of what makes for a "good ride". And how we might better do that.
Best wishes.
I posted this on the BMWSportTouring.com forum. The have a "riding techniques" form there, Riding Well that I enjoy reading and contributing to. Wish we had one here too.
Anyway, there's a tale here about our FJR group's ride up to Avila Beach for paella that I hope you'll enjoy. As for the rest of it... Well, I hope that's of some use, and enjoyable too.
Best wishes.
I had and interesting experience this weekend that pointed up to me how much more important Policy is than Rules, and the extensive value of Principals and Fundamentals. Earlier today I posted about the broader applicability of the principal "Keep Riding - Never Give Up" than we usually give to it - What to do when things go to hell in a handbasket. "Keeping in the Game", "Doing Riding", when we actually do that, is how we can keep from getting into the more dire cirucmstances that now demand we pay full attention, and keep managing our progress through What's Out There. In other words, fully and always doing, "Keep Riding" is how we stay out of most Troubles.
Well, there's another one, another Fundamental, that has that "further applicability". Principals are just that, "first things", things which (wisely) lay at the bottom of perhaps a hierarchy of actions, decisions, or understanding, in realms of increasing complexity and/or broader applicability. Fundamentals are things rooted in Principals, such as ideas, concepts, basic actions and such from which other more complext things are built and flow. The word Fundamental shares its root with Fountain. "Ride your own Ride" is one of these actions that is more broadly applicable than ussually thought about. That's because it is rooted in deeply valuable Principals.
Here's a tale:
Saturday, I joined a group of California riders from FJRForum.com for a gathering in Avila Beach for Paella. Steve1150 from BMWSportTouring.com has led some groups there. Delightful spot. Great food. And it's reached through gorgeous contryside.
"Our group" met in Ventura off the 101 freeway at Victoria for a 9AM departure. Other groups headed down from CenCal, and other groups formed from rider's accumlating northward from San Diego, and so on.
We delayed departure for a few straggling arrivals and then headed up CA-126 for Ojai. There we headed over the top of Lake Casitas on winding CA-150, through some traffic at perhaps a considered slow pace, but got it done with, and at the avocado groves, turned off onto CA-192. This route, with the build-up of civilization over the past 20-odd years has become nearly a city street, passing gladiolus and other fresh flower fields, other nursuries, and a number of farms giving way to housing developments. It still passes the Polo Field, and even visibly skirts the 101 as it heads into ritzy San Ysidro. Its tight, curvy, and visits and shares canyon off-shoots as it nears Santa Barbara and takes on the name, Foothill Boulevard. Good riding. Even in these modern times = On a weekday when there's no Traffic. None the less, it's still a good way over to CA-154, San Marocs Pass, on a normal Saturday morning.
Three or four miles into 192 and it became clear this Saturday was not "normal". We nosed forward, feet at a time, getting up to an intersection. From my spot about twelfth of about 14 riders, my view of proceedings was blocked by trees for a long time. But, it was apparent there was a traffic jam.
Leader turned left toward the nearby freeway rather than right to follow the original route. He's a local so he knew we could make three miles parallel to the also blocked freeway on its little traveled other side. There we had to cross back over the freeway, and get on amongst its barely moving vehicles.
Lane splitting ensued. The Numbers 1 and 2 lane gap was quite narrow because of reduced lane width to fit more lanes in the road space, and going was very slow. The two-up rider directly ahead of me was having some difficulties, occasionally tapping cars' rear bumpers with his saddlebag rub strips, both feet down, as he threaded his way through. His passenger was making things tougher than needed, bobbing her hear to gain a view over first one of his shoulders and then another, and having to move her torso to do so. I'm sure she was uncomfortable, but certainly didn't understand what it took to be successful at this, and didn't know how to contribute to the solution rather than the problem. He slowed way down, and I backed several cars behind him, crawling, even stopping with feet up, easily controlling the bike balance with the handle bars.
About three miles on we left the freeway and encounterd The Road Block. A truck had spilled oil or fuel closing the freeway at this point. Traffic was being diverted off here, but was being diverted back in the opposite direction on the frontage road because there was some spill on it too.
Leader chatted with The CalTrans Guy. Told him he was a local. Got told, "Well, the cop's not back yet..."
U-turn. Through the barriers and down the frontage road. Passed the returning CHP officer coming the other way. Hope his chiropracter fixes his neck.
We got back on the empty freeway, accelerated to 80, and eventually encountered light traffic joining the freeway. Our pace was higher that the traffic. So we threaded our way through it as we passed the center of Santa Barbara, out past The Fair Grounds, and then along the coast. I couldn't see the leader well, or at least continuously, now as about the 10th rider in the group. So, I waited for a clear shot and zipped around a two-up couple, and then a single rider.
Nearing El Capitan, the riders were strung out a bit, and lane changing of our group seemed ragged. I passed two more riders and tucked in right side, staggered, not behind, but "with", a rider I'd directly followed out of Ojai who I'd seen take precise lines into the curves.
Sixth now, I felt in a Group with the riders ahead as we slipped by, right side, passed some slower cars in the fast lane. Our speed rose to about 85 for a while doing that, and settled back in to 80. It was nearing 11:30, we'd passed by the turn-off to San Marcos Pass, and our route up Foxen Canyon. We were making time. It seemed we had a 12:30 planed arrival for lunch, though that had not been stated. I computed the time it would have normally taken me across Foothill, up San Marcos, and the distance I know my previously untravled Foxen would be. It came close to a 12:30 arrival. Leader had us on pace.
Rider Seven, directly behind me, would appear and disappear in my mirror, irking me. Riding Staggered, if you can't see the rider ahead's face in his/her mirror... they can't see you. They very much are going to want to keep track of your position. So, it's distracting work, potentially dangerous work, for them to keep track of you.
We zipped through some staggered cars at accellerated speed. Finally, Number Seven stayed back a little further, in sight now. Beyond Refugio we turned north with the freeway and through the small, winding pass. I really wanted to go faster, but even at our Pace Speed of 80, handling the corners called for some lean angle down around that "human comfort zone" of 30 degrees. Leader varied speed as required to produce smooth threading through the cars, and our tight Group Of Six simply Blitzed It.
Rider Seven, and the thickness of riders I couldn't make out now showed up in my mirror as about a third to a half mile behind. We kept on, relentless, but smooth. My Guy, Mr. Left signaled lane changes to the left, blink, blink, Move, and I would follow at the same pace of displacement, both of us ending the motion together, both turning off our turn signals at the same time. To the right, he'd check the mirror, give a quick look over his shoulder, I'd signal just as his came on, and we'd move in unison to the right line, and finish together.
Two Pairs did that. One rider, with Leader, didn't. Rather than 5 or six feet behind, and aside, they were 10 to 20 feet back. Leader was gauging lane changes -- off #6 to move as a group. Other times, he'd pace up just when the gap would allow Pairs to make the change, One Pair, Two Pair, Third Pair. It would work out, and be incredibly smooth -- except those times Number Two became "independent". Then the following pairs would need to slow, do several mirror checks, and then dive to make it, or totally reject the opportunity as "too close".
About 45 minutes later, the "second group" caught up as we turned off onto Sycamore Canyon, and single-filed it past the Nuclear Plant, along the beach with its expansive lagoon view, and into the parking lot for the pier. As we unsuited, Leader headed onto the pier an toward our lunch spot.
Walking out, taking pictures of the sea lions, and looking for the eatery, six two-up FJRs rode down the pier and parked. As they alighted and undressed for the warm, 80 degree sunshine, we gathered and introduced ourselves. Over paella they related they had backed off to a more comfortable pace.
Another group arrived while we were waiting. They had crossed on 166 after a run up I-5. The "way south guys" had started with daylight, and then together at the San Gabriels, took the shorter route North rather than stive to catch up to us. Another segment heard the 101 had been closed and joined them.
Lunch was grand. I enjoyed it, and the new company greatly. But 2PM was passing. I had a straight shot home if I took CA-166 East, then into the mountains up The Grapevine Grade, and across the high desert of The Andelope Valley. It would be cold by the time I'd covred the 200 miles over there. Darkness would fall, and I'm not as well night sighted any more. So I began packing up. As I did, I heared one of the riders relate the Mission San Antonio was enclosed in the confines of Fort Hunter-Liggett. One of the northern couples was fascinated and decided to stop there on their way home.
I heard one couple had broken off at Buellton, low on fuel. They had come up from Laguna Hills, down south in Orange County. They had about a 120 mile ride up to Ventura and hadn't had time to refuel before we took off. Had our route played out, they would have had a chance to stop for gas. But, we had been on the road a solid, non-stop. three and a half hours to get to Avila Beach, covering over 180 miles in that time, despite our clawing over mountain roads, and creeping through traffic. I'm certain they were pooped. But, they had dinner resevations and lodging there. They later posted they had the chance to tour Solvang (An Old Danish Community), some museums, and a couple of wineries, and still make dinner on time.
I rode out alone and gassed up in Pismo Beach. I turned onto CA-166 just north of Santa Maria and recalled two things. I had been fortunate to cross East to West on it before it was "improved" to a high speed, two lane thoroughfare from the goat track it had been that clung to the steep mountain cliff-sides I gazed up at. And secondly, that I had last crossed here on my K1200RS and wrote about it in "The K-Bike Kronicles", telling how the ever increasing performance of bikes across the decades had yielded a bike I could travel through here at speeds that now made me uncomfortable. The big RS would haul down from the far side of The Ton, and roll in to the bouncy sweepers at 80 to 90, and I had not a moment to spare from attending to that process. Perhaps I really did, but crashing at these higher speeds made me think it prudent to attend strictly to business.
As we rode across the first sixteen miles of cuts through mountainous cattle country, and then just mountains, I noticed I felt much more relaxed on the FJR. I was about 5 mph slower now than I had been on the K1200RS, and wondered if that alone was the cause. So I upped the pace a bit, and still felt well in control, with lots of lean left, and good ability to set the bike, and also change its line in corner if I so chose. I noticed my head was "up", the neck angle of the allowed riding position was more upright. I could see the road better; My sense of balance was bett4er. Glances to the scenery came easily. I slowed back down, 80 vs. 90 in the corners, and not much faster on the straights.
The sixteen miles seemed to pass very, very quickly. "The Tree" that marks the first Transition Corner from the Mountain Crossing, into the tighter corners again entering Cattle Country, showed up way more early than my heart expected it. The next 20 miles over to New Cuyama passed quickly too, and I stopped there slightly over a hundred miles into my return. That's longer than I usually ride in a stint. None the less, I felt well, a good meal being a help, and temps in the low 70's being welcome.
I rode on across the grade into Maricopa, some 30 or 40 miles further on, and put on my jacket liner and overpants. I stopped again before getting on I-5 and changed out of my sunglasses into clear ones. On up The Grapevine, I threaded traffic in steeply cooling temps, and then descended with the turn off onto CA-139 on down toward CA-14 and home in Lancaster.
The dying light silhoutted the hills along the San Andreas Fault in shimmering shades of salmon and pale azure tones, melding in a swirl of consciousness swaying my mind to see only a colorful unison, one much more welcomed than the dark carpet upon which arose one and another points of desert residence marking pinpoints of light. Ahead, headlights marked the space between there and here available to pass an eighteen-wheeler, or a gaggle of cars. With each mile they became more and more distinctly the only markers of space and time, and Progress.
Home, I turned off the GPS, tucked away the V1, and covered the bike. Inside, I began undressing, and greeted Puf The Cat, who, he said loudly, was ready for dinner.
A quick look out as I closed the door told me night had fully fallen, and another Ride was over.
Cool, huh?
But what about "Ride Your Own Ride"?
OK. So, riding down some curvey road, I yell in the radio to a friend, "Joe! Let him get about 4 seconds ahead. Then you'll have a clear view of the corner upcoming, can assess it fullly, match your resources to it, set your OWN plan to handle it, and do so without distractions."
Joe nods, and responds, "Right".
And with that, his lines begin to clean up. He gets smoother; I can see the chassis set, the swingarm sucks up early in the corner, and I find I'm now running hard out of the corners myself without running up too close to the back of him.
What's that about?
Examining the Fundamental, the FURTHER useful, datum, concept, skill, or understanding, "Ride Your Own Ride", I find in it some Principles:
[*]Have clear Objective(s)
[*]Prioritize Objectives or Aims
[*]Gain a full and clear sense of the Circumstances you're about to ride into
[*]Have, understand, and be willing and able to use the Resources you bring to the Ride
[*]Plan how to apply them to the Circumstances - including Contingencies
[*]Follow the Plan, and its Continencies where warranted.
Repeat those as "steps"
That applies to, and is pretty easily seen about, a corner up ahead. Each item could be reviewed and then done for this upcoming corner. And then, the next one. And, so on.
So too do these things apply to an entire Ride. In the tale above, Leader certainly had, and very well
defined, some Objectives. And they got Prioritized.
And then, he met them. He went about accomplishing them.
Hey! The Circumstances changed. So did his plan. Dozens of times. Perhaps, just perhaps, Continously. But always, he, not Circumstances, was in charge.
He got us all there in Good Order.
He got us there on time for lunch.
We got to cover some intersting, and also unexpected Ground.
We got to exercise our mounts, great bikes, to quite extreme levels at times.
We got to exercise our skills as Riders. And as Managers of our own Rides.
Of that last one, I'll point out that Mr. Left Guy and I "joined up" during that ride. In close proximity, we Agreed, from what we had been continuously learning about each other's handling of our bikes in Circumstances. We joined and rode as a Unit. From there on, "own ride" was one quite fully shared among Us Two. Cool, huh?
I think we all grew a bit from this ride.
And in many different ways.
So?
Well, how many times can you identify in the tale above, Riders wisely applying the Principals behind the Fundamental, "Ride your own ride", or not so wisely ignoring them?
Please understand, your answers don't have to please me, or even be posted. And. I'm not going to rate anyone because they got "Ten out of Twelve", or anything like that.
I'm only after, hopefully, expanding our sense of what makes for a "good ride". And how we might better do that.
Best wishes.
