February - how did it get to be February already?

Yesterday I tagged along with Bart on his shopping visit to California BMW Triumph - he has an itch for a new bike. He introduced me to Carolyn. She must have sensed my trepidation about the Triumph TT600 that Bart is encouraging me go for; she acknowledged that the sport bike riding position takes some getting used to. Listening to the two of them talk about the Searspoint Raceway class was inspiring, and made my hair stand on end.

Today I rode Foothill Expressway behind Stanford, and turned up Alpine Road into Portola Valley. No errands planned, this ride was just to ride. Coming down the hill I was grateful that sun was no longer in my eyes, but I became aware of an itch of my own above my left eye. I want to scratch, but both hands are occupied negotiating the turns of the road, and I don't want to stop. I've learned from zazen practice that when my nose itches, I won't die if I don't scratch. Sometimes, if I'm in the fourth sit of a set, and my knees are burning and my back is aching, I'm actually grateful for a distraction, even the sensation of an ant walking across my left nostril. So now, I have an ant parting the hairs of my left eyebrow. I keep riding, I keep my focus on the road, and I want that ant, or hair, or whatever it is, to go away. But it doesn't. Now it's on my cheek. I stretch my jaw hoping helmet lining will take care of the problem. No such luck. I should have bought the Arai, it came up higher on my face. Should I stop? No, that would be like breaking a sit, bad form. I will not let an itch get to me. By the time I get to the bottom of the hill, I'm praying for a red light so I'll have an excuse to come to a full stop. The gods answer my prayers.

As I pull away from the stop light, I see two riders going in the opposite direction. One is on a sport bike, the other is on a cruiser, looks like an older Suzuki Savage or Marauder, I'm not sure. The cruiser rider raises his/her chin towards me in a gesture that is unmistakably a greeting. I'm stunned, but nod back. First time I've been acknowledged on the road as a fellow rider.

According to the bike's owners manual, the factory suspension setting is "3". Currently it is set at "5" - probably the previous owner changed the setting. Considering that I weigh 115 pounds, maybe 120 with the leathers, I'm curious to fiddle with the settings, and see if I can feel a difference. Tomorrow!

Didn't get a chance to fiddle with the suspension, but went back and did the same route - in particular, I wanted to see if I could do any better started from a stop on an incline - the left turn up Alpine from from Foothill. I've become used to putting both feet down at a stop. I'm more comfortable putting my weight on my right foot, which I've since learned ought to be on the brake. I can attest that trying the hold the bike in place with just the front brake, and trying to roll on the throttle when the light turns green, is, well, difficult. Something to go practice. The new saddlebags are working out great. They look a little wide for the bike, but they are functional.

Karolyn and I planning a ride on Sunday. I confessed to her that after she had told me about "high centering" and warned me about selecting parking places with care, I managed to find myself nearly swimming.

Last week I pulled into my normal parking place at Expert Support, nose first. That day turned out to be the day that several people from my office came out to see my bike. I mounted, started the bike, and began paddle walking backwards to back the bike out of the parking place. There is a storm grating at the entry of the parking space - I've never noticed it before. My rear tire passed over the grating just fine, but I began to realize that I was pushing the bike uphill, backwards. Next thing I knew, my toes were barely touching the ground. I shifted my weight to one side, and lame-ducked my way over the low spot. Not smooth. Sigh. Bart told me later that I should pay more attention to whether a parking surface is level, and he recommended that I back in to parking spaces as a rule. More lessons learned by experience.

Got rained out of my trip with Karolyn this weekend, we've rescheduled for next Sunday. Hopefully Janet from Marin Aikikai will join us. I took a chance and went out on my own praying that the grey clouds would hold off until after I got home. I decided to try the rural leg of Page Mill Road which winds up into the hills.

First thing that was apparent was the difference in the ride. A few days a go I tried to reset the suspension myself, but the spring was cranked down all the way, and I really didn't know what I was doing, MOM wasn't much help. Bart was. The springs made an awful "sproing" as he released each one a notch. I released them another notch to get them back to the factory setting. The ride is mushy now. I'm thinking of cranking it down again.

So I'm riding up the hill. The road is one lane in each direction, very twisty and turny. I haven't ridden in a few days and it shows. Because it is a holiday, the road is nearly all mine. I get past Foothill park, and the road becomes more steep. I come around a turn and I see three traffic cones blocking my side of the road, a police car a few feet in back of the cones, and a cop standing in the middle of the road. Obviously, I must stop, and I do. On the steep incline. The cop is motioning to me to turn around. I'm stuck. He comes over, and I blabber something about not knowing how to get moving from this position. I cut the engine, dismount, and he helps me push the bike to the other side of the road where there is a intersecting street that is flat. How embarrassing.

With 20/20 hindsight, I could have paddled back into a position perpendicular to the road, and made the turn to go down the hill; I didn't need to continue uphill. Someday, I'll figure out how to get moving going uphill (here's how). This journal reads like a record of woe, but I know I'm making progress; I used to avoid the San Antonio overpass over Central Expressway, now I ride it without a thought. I'm so looking forward to not being so scared all the time.

It was really good to just get out there and ride.

Karolyn rocks! She rode down from San Francisco this morning, and took me on my first long ride. We were out about six hours, about 4.5 on the road.

The first thing she fixed was the suspension; she had me crank it down one notch. Then we increased the tire pressure (they were low). What wonderful feeling to have such good contact with the road! Next, we rode to Road Rider in San Jose, which is open on Sundays, and bought a can of cable lubricant. She detached the throttle cables and we squirted the lube into the cable sheaths. My throttle isn't sticky any more. So now we were ready to ride.

She had scouted out Hicks Road in the eastern section of Santa Clara valley a few weeks ago. The ride goes around Almaden Dam and Reservoir. One major hill with lots of twists and turns. Just getting there was more challenge than I had anticipated, but having Karolyn nearby increased my confidence so much that I wasn't scared. We rode on highway 85 to 280 to get to San Jose, two highways I couldn't imagine going near yesterday. So not only were we riding in traffic, on 85 we were riding twenty miles per hour faster (70 mph) than I am used to riding for a sustained period. And that was in the right lane, the left lanes are going 80 mph. My gut tells me that 70mph is too damn fast, but it was interesting, and I am glad to have finally tasted that sensation.

The MSF class covered many aspects of head position, and I found out the hard way that you go where you look. Karolyn clarified that mantra; you may go where you look, but the idea is to scan, so it is much like riding a bicycle - you need to look ahead then look at the ground for debris and holes in the surface of the road then repeat. In addition, Karolyn told me to keep my head level with the road, especially in turns. As soon as I started doing this, the sensation of dizziness I experience in turns disappeared. I've been keeping my body in line from the top of my head to the base of my spine, as is appropriate for riding on the back of the bike, but riding in front, I should be keeping my chin level with the road, as if my head were set on a gimbal. Moving through 3D space is much easier now.

Near the end of the ride, we started looking for a place to eat a late lunch. I was leading, and saw a place with a bunch of bikes out front. Being a lot more in need of sustenance than I thought, I pulled into the parking lot. In the back of my mind, I sensed that Karolyn had some reservations, but she didn't say, "Cecilie, this place isn't a good idea." At least, not until after we walked in, were overcome by cigarette smoke, realized this place didn't serve salads, and, were nearly suffocated by the black energy of the people inside. Let's just say that I have a lot to learn about motorcycle subcultures.

Watching Karolyn was an inspiration; she rides like a leaf floating in a river - so smooth, so effortless, such grace. I want to ride like that some day. Thank you, Karolyn. Let's do this again next month.

Karolyn and I were talking about bikes and I was telling her that I love the sound of a BMW engine. I couldn't be specific about which model, because I've just started paying attention to the different models, but I have an aural model of the BMW sound - quiet - that I hope someday to have for my own.

Finally saw a doctor for my hand. The sprain is bad enough that the recovery period is more like 3 to 4 months, not six weeks, which is why my hand is still not happy - it has only been two months. The x-rays show nothing broken, as I expected. So, now I know about collateral tendons. I'll learn how to tape my hand better next week so I can get back on the mat. At least I can still ride.

Go to March entries