Tomorrow I will tackle the ride across the Bay Bridge. Normally on Saturday mornings we get to the dojo in a hour, in the car, at about 80 mph. I'll be giving myself an hour and 45 minutes so that I can ride at 60 mph up 101, through San Francisco , across the bridge, (Hwy 80). If I go up 880, rather than get on that high 880 to 80 overpass which scares me even when I'm in the car, I'll get off on 980 to 24 and come into Berkeley on Martin Luther King. My intention is to get to Berkeley plenty early, go get a cup of tea and a bagel, and relax enough so that when I get to the dojo, I'm not a bundle of nerves.

After class, Peter, heaps and heaps of blessings on his head, will lead me back through the city to Karolyn's house where I'll spend the night. Sunday morning, she and I will get up early and head out for god knows where, but somewhere away from traffic where she can evaluate my current riding level.

Then, I'm supposed to get home in time to change and get ready to go out to dinner with Peter and his brother, who is turning 50. By the time we get to dinner, I will be so ready for a beer, I won't be able to speak.

All this is preparation for riding to Willows for the track day. I'm now number five on the waiting list, up from number eight.

The ride up to Berkeley was a lot easier than I expected. The wind on the Dumbarton Bridge was tolerable, and at 8:45 on a Saturday morning, 880 wasn't the four lanes of frenzy that I so wanted to avoid. I rolled into Berkeley in time to have a quick cup of mint tea and arrived at the dojo on time. I took my normal three classes, suited up, and met Peter at Whole Foods. To my delight, Bryan, formerly of Alameda Aikikai, now in Washington state, pulled up on his new bike, and we had a nice catch up chat. We'll see him again in October for the annual Wild Coast Aikido seminar in Mendocino, and then in Seattle for Rohatsu (winter sesshin).

Peter led the way across the Bay Bridge, into San Francisco to Karolyn's house. City riding is nerve racking for me, too much input. By leading the way Peter took the whole navigation burden off my shoulders and allowed me to concentrate on bike management in a new environment. The man is a mensch.

The next morning, Karolyn and I left around 8am, and headed north. This is the first time Karolyn has seen me on the CS. Here's the route:

• 101 to Lucas Valley Road
• Left on Nicasio Valley Road
• Right on Sir Francis Drake Blvd.
• Right on Hwy 1 to Point Reyes Station - breakfast
• South on Hwy 1
• Left on Fairfax-Bolinas Road (goat trail)
• Right on West Ridgecrest
• Left on East Ridgecrest to the top of Mt. Tamalpais
• Back down East Ridgecrest
• Left on West Ridgecrest
• Left on Panoramic Hwy
• Left of Muir Woods Road
• through Mill Valley to 101
• 19th to 280, then home

I was home by 3pm, so the ride was about five hours of road time, about 150 miles. If you include Saturday's ride, the whole weekend was 200 miles with nearly every street environment (rural, suburban, city, highway, super highway) accounted for.

We shared the Lucas Valley Road with a lot of bicyclists - I tried to be polite and give them as much space as I could, and I kept my engine quiet. There was one car that deserved an idiot award. The car wouldn't pass a bicyclist and was going maddeningly slow. Karolyn passed the car, then I positioned myself to pass. As soon as I got over the double yellow line (yeah, yeah), the car pulled out in front of me. Sigh.

So, what's with the goat trail? you ask. Well, it's Karolyn's training run. It is a single lane, steep, twisty road. Of course, "no brakes", just compression braking.

Karolyn had been watching me ride and giving me comments, mostly on riding posture. Fascinating that "elbows in" applies both to Aikido and riding. Classical ballet training places the elbows "out". Think "Swan Lake". The "wings" come from extending the arms while raising the elbows. Twenty years of holding my elbows out is taking forever to unlearn. More "doing 'not doing'". And, she tells me to slouch. Slouch? I don't slouch - my ballet teacher would appear from around the next bend and give me "that look" if I were to slouch. "... then loosen up your neck, shoulders and hips a bit. You look stiff." Story of my life - if you think I'm tightly wound now, you should have met me years ago.

Incorporating Karolyn's comments while on the bike, I shimmy in the saddle, I play Aretha Franklin in my head and get funky. If I shift my butt back in the seat and lean my chest forward I can relax my wrists and elbows - and maneuvering the bike becomes so much easier. Karolyn watched me enter a turn at a speed she was pretty sure I wasn't ready to maintain. According to her, I came out of the turn on a reasonable line with good speed. "Okay," she must have decided, "Cecilie's ready for the goat trail." We turned off the main road onto what looked like an unmarked service road.

I had no idea what we were getting into, but I had no reason to distrust the challenge. Also, one nice thing about being 45, if I can't keep up, I can't keep up, it is that simple. I'll catch up eventually.

Karolyn took off, I was close behind. All second gear work, I could hear that the rpms were high, but I couldn't take my eyes off the road to get a number. A few 15 mph tight climbers forced me into first gear. It would have been nice to use Karolyn's engine sound to clue me in, but our bikes are geared very differently. There was only one turn that I did really badly, I waited too late to downshift, my road position was poor and my elbows were out, the bike wavered all over. "Sloppy, sloppy", I chewed myself out, and hoped that Karolyn hadn't seen that in her mirrors. I managed to stay pretty close to her. Near the top, she pulled over, and we took a break. A few minutes later a pool of KTM sharks roared past us, moving much faster than we had been going. More power to them. I did my best, and it wasn't bad. I like that goat trail - not fun, definitely good training.

I took the lead after that and missed the turn that Karolyn had intended for us. We ended up going up the ridge road to Mt. Tamalpais. Had I known that missing that turnoff meant that I would be riding on the exposed side of the ridge route, I would not have missed the turn. I'm acrophobic. I was riding a beautiful ridge with panoramic views of the bay, but I kept my eyes on the road.

By the time we got to the top of Mt. Tam, I was wasted. Thank goodness for the kiosk - one power bar and a few sips of grapefruit soda later, we agreed that the one remaining challenge was to get home. Karolyn set a gentle pace, and home we went. I indulged in touching my brakes every once in a while - it was a guilty pleasure.

Had a cup of hot chocolate at Karolyn's. Once again, her teaching/coaching abilities shine through. I climbed back on the bike and headed down to the South Bay. Bumper to bumper traffic on 19th. I watch a squid squirt through between lanes. Tempting...I'm tired and I want to get home, but today isn't the day to experiment with lane splitting.

Rode home on 280 with my chest in the "stuff bay" of the bike, under the bubble, elbows down, wrists relaxed, cruising between 75 and 80, in the second lane. Just how fast do people need to go on a Sunday afternoon? I don't get it.

So, other than semi-trucks, I'm ready to ride to Willows. I've ridden both the Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate Bridge. Karolyn paid for me going across the Golden Gate - a sweet gesture, one that I look forward to repeating for whomever I take on their first ride across the bridge. I now know what a couple of hours in the saddle feels like. The ride to Willows will be longer but having a female bladder, I will make pit stops every hour or so.

As of August 3rd, I'm third on the waiting list for the Novices day at Thunderhill.

From Karolyn in response to the previous entry:

There isn't anything wrong with using your brakes, its how and when that's important. There are a number of reasons I've been having you use them as little as possible: controlling your speed with your throttle is a lot smoother and upsets your suspension less that controlling it with your brakes; it's easier to gauge your corner entrance speed if you don't have to slow down a whole bunch; it's easier to relax, feel what's going on in the corner and get your body position right if you're not squeezing on the brakes (and incidentally tightening up on the bars), and last but not least, its one less thing to have to worry about.

Having received this message, I asked Bart if he had any thoughts about braking in the context of the upcoming track day. Here is his two cents:

Riding without using brakes is a good exercise in forcing you to plan ahead, and that in turn helps you become a better and smoother rider. It is a valuable skill building technique. Weekend riding groups use this and other skill challenges to focus themselves away from speed when riding public roads. I don't disagree with anything K says about that. But I don't encourage you to adopt her 'no brakes' riding style as standard practice.

I am now the first person on the Novice Day waiting list.

Dennis and I rode Redwood Road in the East Bay Regional park. It is a beautiful ride that connects with the East Bay's own "Skyline". It was a short ride because we had to come back to the west side of the bay for a "track day" briefing at Hare Racing. Lots of good information about the various formats of track days, the various local tracks, and what to look for in a track day sponsor.

It is official, I'm on the Novice Day attendees list. 

Dennis is also on the attendees list; he won't just be escorting me up to Willows, he will be participating. I am having dreams about Turn 5.

"Karolyn's Posse" assembled at Rick and Ann's across from the Claremont Hotel. Karolyn, Janet, Amanda and I had just finished three hours on the mat. Dennis had caught an early morning flight back from the East Coast. Between Dennis' lack of sleep and our previous exertions, this ride was going to be leisurely. Amanda didn't join the ride this time, but she will soon be riding with the group.

We rode through the East Bay Regional park - Grizzly Peak Road, down Skyline to Joaquim Miller park where I was able to relocate the Woodminster Ampitheatre where there is a beautiful human-made waterfall. Dennis, being the most familiar with the roads, set a good pace. Karolyn was right behind him. Although Janet commutes on the highways, she doesn't have much experience on twisties, and I am the baby of the bunch, so she and I just did our best. Dennis slowed down every so often to let us catch up making the ride completely enjoyable - no pressure.

Next week, Karolyn and I will take Amanda across the Golden Gate Bridge, her first time on a big highway.

When I told Art at Hare Racing that I wanted him to show me how to drain the coolant from my bike and replace it with water plus "water wetter" so that I could do it myself, he gave me a quiet "look" for just a moment. An hour and a half later, I was so very grateful that I hadn't tried to do it on my own. As I was leaving Art mentioned he will be one of the teachers at Novice Day next week.

Helimot modified the black leather jacket so that it zips to the leather pants. They did a great job, the turtle back protector fits underneath just fine. This "zip-together" will have to suffice until the economy gets better and I have disposable income to invest in a one piece track suit.

Why am I thinking about a track suit when I haven't even ridden a track yet? The bike is keeping me sane. For over eighteen months I have not been able to use the full extent of my professional capabilities. I have been working, but I am "under employed", and certainly not using enough of my brain on the job to maintain sanity. The bike has provided a sufficient challenge to compensate for the lack of brain activity. When I'm on the bike, I can't indulge in thinking about the resumes that have been acknowledged only by a souless electronic response system followed by a void. Being on the bike is the best meditation.

As I listen to my riding friends, it is pretty clear that getting on a track on a regular basis is like attending sesshin, or a seminar - a good place to do nothing but focus. The way my brain works, I need focus, and I need to keep learning, or I will go stark raving mad.

The flip side of all this is that I will never be able to make jokes about middle aged men and fast red cars ever again. While I still think that the fast red cars are merely penis extensions, I have experienced that unrelenting need for something, and I understand how it shuts down any reasoning and drives one's actions purely from the limbic system.

And, it pleases me to say "Rotax engine", "Rotax transmission", and "BMW". There, I have admitted it - the secret feelings of a proud Honda Civic DX 4-door driver. Someday I'll have a 4-door electric car, or hybrid, and then I'll be a smug car driver. But I will love my bike.

For the record, the interim solution to the under-employment problem is that I'm going quit making myself nuts looking for work that isn't there. I'm signed up to take several database design classes from the UC Extension program. As an alumni advisor to UCSC linguistics students, I've been asked what "real world" skills they can take out of their education. Now I'm following the same guidance I've been giving for the past few years. I'm still working my professional network - there is small consolation in knowing that the under/unemployed community is full of people I consider to be the best at what they do. I guess it is true, misery loves company. They should all learn to ride a motorcycle.

The bike and I have returned from my day at the track with nearly all of our body parts intact.

The ride to Willows went a lot better than I expected. Riding up at noon time may have been hot, but we avoided the rush hour traffic. Dennis and I stopped often to relax and drink Gatorade, both to hydrate for the track day and to stay hydrated on the ride up. Once we got onto 505 I took the opportunity to address my speed issues, and pinned it at 85 for awhile. I felt pretty good about that until I asked Dennis what speed he would be going if it were just him and Kip, the guy who got Dennis riding two years ago. "Oh, 90 to 100". Well, fine - I'm not ready for that kind of speed.

Once we got to the Best Western in Willows, all I could think about was a shower, and the inn has a pool. After dinner, despite the valerian, I woke up every hour - nerves.

Next morning at the track, every one was sniffing everyone else's bikes. Only two non-sport bikes, mine and a new Triumph Legend, a cruiser-style bike, also with a female owner. Looking around I guestimated a 1:5 ratio of women to men. Just seeing other women out there made me feel better. Off came the mirrors, painter's tape over the headlight and brake lights, and we lined up for tech inspection.

After the tech inspection came a short orientation meeting. Lance Keigwin has structured the day so that people can get on the track quickly and ride out their jitters. They pay more attention to talk afterwards. The orientation covered legal stuff, the flags, and track rules for the day. Then we went directly into the sighting laps.

There were eight teachers, each with six moto-ducklings lined up behind. My column took off, and within no time we were going about 30% faster than I was comfortable with. I was in over my head. I was on the edge of wanting to fall out of formation and let the teaching staff know, but there were no guidelines for expressing "I may have bitten off more than I can chew", so I stuck it out, and to my great relief, managed to ride six laps without dumping the bike or peeing in my pants. What I didn't know was that there were teachers in the pit, looking for people who were falling back - these teachers were specifically on deck to take people around for a slower introduction to the track. Either I missed this bit of information in the orientation, or Lance forgot to tell the group.

By serendipity I ended up directly behind a teacher, so my first view of the track also traveled on clean lines. With each lap the head duckling switched to the back position, so the lines on my last lap were about as "perverted" as they could be - it was much more difficult to keep up with the group. Lap time estimate? Oh, four minutes. Real racing type riders have two minute lap times.

Keeping up with my group in the sighting laps was enough of a challenge that as soon as they were over I was ready to go home. I had stretched myself nearly to the breaking point and I had accomplished my goal, I had ridden the track. And what about the rest of the day, didn't I want to get out there and try it on my own? Hell no. Still, I knew I had to, and I signed up with a teacher who had an open morning slot. I wanted Linda Keigwin, but her dance card was filled immediately, the only open slot was the last one of the day, and I knew I couldn't last that long.

I got lucky, I hung around the track entrance and found her before the scheduled sessions. Had Linda not been available right after the post-sighting lap group talk, I would not have gotten on the track until my 11:30 session with Craig. There was no way in hell that I was going to put myself out there without someone watching me. I don't know if I telegraphed my consternation, or if she was just being nice, but she did a great job of just being matter of fact. I think the best laps I did all day were behind her.

The manner in which Linda provided me feedback was exactly what I needed - she gave me a thumbs up after each major turn, or series of turns. I know that some people find this continuous feedback suffocating or condescending, but it was perfect for me and increased my confidence.

I finished with Linda just in time to meet Craig. I went into Turn 5 with him watching me. I was looking for the point at which to flick the bike over but I didn't find it and overshot the mark. I realized I was going way too fast. Going down the hill at that speed was not an option, I knew I couldn't control the bike to make the next turn. The second option was to turn hard to the right, and ride into the dirt. I knew that if I did that, I would go down. It was the safest solution to the problem. As soon as the front tire left the asphalt, the following conversation ensued:

Bike: "We are in the dirt. I don't have traction. We are going down."

Me: "Yes, I know. Don't crack the fairing when you hit, okay?"

Bike: "Roger that, I will fall on you to break my fall, okay?"

Me: "Sure."

When I hit the dirt, I reached over and killed the engine. I pulled my leg out from under the bike, stood up and gave Craig a thumbs up sign. Craig managed the recovery of me and my bike like a pro. He was calm and acutely aware that I was as concerned for my bike as I was for myself. Once I assured him I was fine and we ascertained that the bike was fine, he got me and my bike down off the hill (first time I have ridden 2-up on my own bike). We finished the lap on our own bikes, and exited the track. In the paddock he didn't say anything that made me feel bad, he merely checked in to find out if I knew what I had done, and why, and then we got back on the track.

My right knee is quite bruised where the plastic knee cover in my leathers impacted my knee, but my knee cap is fine. The bike is missing its right front turn signal and has, sigh, a few scratches, so I guess we're not moto-virgins anymore. When I rode 2-up with Bart I knew Turn 5 was going to bite me someday and it did. What a relief to have that over and done with.

I rode the track a few more times. Stayed in third gear in Turns 1 to 6, fascinating that the bike doesn't mind such high revs. I rode at my own pace, and ignored everyone else. Because it was Novice Day there was no inside passing so when I set my line for a corner, I knew no one was going to stuff me. After going wide on Turn 11 several times, I decided I had had enough and figured I would spend the rest of the day attending the classes. I was one pooped puppy.

The first class I attended was on riding position, or, "How to hang your booty off the bike to touch your knee down in the corners". They had set up a couple of sport bikes on stationery stands so you could try the position. I tried it. Yeah, makes sense on a stationery bike. I am so not ready to move either one of my butt cheeks off the center of my bike's seat, thank you.

While Dennis was out on the track having a great time, I just hung around in the paddock, watching people. Watching the teachers teach blew my mind. They are hanging off their bikes, looking backwards, giving you a thumbs up sign while going at remarkable speeds. Even when they are behind you, you can feel the narrow angle beam of their "eyes on you gaze", which is separate from the wide angle beam of their "watching all around gaze". Impressive.

Lance Keigwin asked if I'd like to ride 2-up with him. Um, okay. I regretted that decision as soon as we took off. Oh my god. He is one fast guy. When we crested in Turn 5, he accelerated down the hill with such force that I heard myself squeaking. We were leaning so hard in the fast turns I was sure the rear tire was going to break away. I don't want to know how fast we were going in the straight-aways, I do know that I figured out why I never got Turn 11 - you have to brake hard to get into Turn 10 properly (it is the other "slow" turn) otherwise you aren't going to be able to run the "esses", Turns 11, 12, and 13, well. Obviously I don't regret the decision now. Just add "hard braking" to the list of skills to acquire. Yeah, yeah, no jokes about tortoises not needing to brake hard, okay?

Turn 2 was the positive high point of the whole track experience. Karolyn had remarked that the turn goes on forever. Dennis later said that you could get married, have children, watch them grow up, graduate from college, get married and have children of their own, and you would still be in Turn 2. For some reason, Turn 2 and I got along just fine. I was getting passed on the outside, but all I cared about was getting into the turn about one third from the inside, and holding my speed throughout the turn. It is a good thing that countersteering has found its way into my skill set, because everyone else seemed to be hanging off their bike. Not me, I was just pushing on that left handlebar and holding my elbows in like there was no tomorrow. No chopping the throttle, no compensatory corrections to the lean angle. Just a clean entry, steady through the turn, and a clean exit. Exhilarating!

Here's the track map. Here are photos of the track, the commentary is from a car driver's point of view.

Novice Day seemed to be populated with only a few true novices, that is, riders who have never having been on a track before. Most of the population seemed to be people with track experience who wanted to take advantage of wonderful teacher student ratio. I don't need an expert teacher given my level, and I'm not looking for a baby sitter. I guess what I'm saying is let the people who want to learn how to hang off their bikes ride with the "hang off your bike" teachers, and maybe there are some other teachers who are interested in working with students who are more interested in bike handling and less speed-oriented.

The Novice Day was way more than I bargained for, but I am glad I did it. While Bart, Karolyn, and Dennis are going to visit other tracks, I'll be sticking with Novice Days at Thunderhill for a while, at least one per quarter if the events are offered.

The track experience has improved my riding - I have more understanding of what the bike can do, and more confidence in my ability to ride it. While intimidating, the track is clearly the best place to learn to be a better rider.

Dennis was a perfect traveling companion for the past three days, but he gets the "white knight" award for saving me on 680 coming into Benecia, where the wind was gusting as it always does there (it was a windmill farm, after all). One particular gust blew me from one side of the left lane to the other. I fought to keep from being blown into the concrete highway divider. Dennis roared up on my right side, gave me the "follow me" gesture, and sunk his psychic grappling hooks into me and the bike and pulled us to the far right six inches of the right lane. I rode behind him, ducked down as low as I could go, until we got to 580. Trucks are no longer my big bugaboo, you can see them and you can predict where and how the bow wave will hit you. You can also get over to the far side of your lane, and just about not get hit by the bow wave. Wind is invisible, and gusts are not predictable.

Riding home I tried to avoid those yellow butterflies/moths because when you get hit by those little guys, it feels like you got hit with a small rock. They are also a pain to clean off your bike and your leathers.

The total mileage of the ride was about 440 miles. About 180 going north (Monday), about 200 going south (Wednesday, we took a scenic detour at Colusa to avoid some slab), and for me, about 60 miles on the track itself (Tuesday). It's a three mile track, so yes, the track experience overloaded me pretty quickly. Dennis put many more track miles on his bike.

* * * * *

My bike is just about to show 2000 miles on the odometer. Not bad, going from not being able to ride to riding on a track in eight months - huge credit is due to Karolyn, Bart, and Dennis without whom I never could have made this progress. Peter has been patient, tolerant of my disappearing on Sundays, and even understanding of my new obsession.

Speaking of Peter, he has passed his MSF class. He has been riding my bike around the neighborhood although he doesn't have a license yet. Karolyn is loaning him her Ducati Alazzurra for a few months, then he and she will have better idea of what would be a good first new bike for him. Yes, he is a lucky boy.

I've done what I set out to do, learn to ride a motorcycle, so it is time to end this phase of my motorcycle journal. The proof that the fundamentals of riding are sufficiently in muscle memory is the fact that I survived my first track experience. Progressing beyond fundamentals will come with more practice and more coaching. I may add entries to this journal from time to time, but I will not updating it on a weekly basis unless my writing muse appears and seizes control of my hands.

Good riding to you all, be safe, and keep the rubber side down!