Clicking the graphic will take you to the Femmoto website. Click here to go the journal entry. Spring Mountain - track map link is at the bottom of their page.

I've been musing for some time about the relationship between street riding and track riding. I'm ready to stick my neck out now, thanks to Steven (Mr. Hayabusa) K, a rider in the UK, who sent me these questions.

Has the track helped or hindered on the road?

Both. I learn more in one day on the track than I learn in months on the street. There is no doubt in my mind that without the track practice, my first accident would have been on the Bay Bridge, hit by a car that decided to change lanes without signaling or looking while in heavy traffic. Instead, the bike and I moved out of the impact zone without entering another one, and kept the rubber side down.

The track is a hindrance in that I want to be on it more, but it is an expensive hobby.

Do you feel more confident in traffic or your run to the dojo? What still bothers you? What are you going to do about it?

Being able to ride in traffic is largely conditioning. My attitude towards heavy traffic has evolved from fear-based to expectation-based hyper-awareness (or so I hope!). When I see a driver with a cell phone, I find a way around them, but cell phones are just one of many distractions that auto drivers deal with. The biggest change is my attitude towards semi-trucks. Recently one of these guys gave me hand signals to indicate that he knew I was there and it was okay to lane split in the lane next to him. There's always potential for good communication with "cage" drivers as long as there isn't noise in my own head, and, they aren't distracted.

What still bothers me is high winds. I'm uncomfortable with what Karolyn calls floating, allowing the bike to move laterally due to wind while at the same time making forward progress on the throttle. I have a low tolerance for that lateral movement; it makes my stomach queasy. What am I going to do about it? Well, I go out on windy days if I was already going to go out.

Another environmental factor is airborne particulate matter that sneaks into my helmet and strikes the surface of my eyes. Grit in the eyes hurts and you can't always blink it out, especially if you wear hard contacts. I've had to pull over into the emergency lane more than once to cry out little boulders. I've thought a lot about goggles but haven't bought any.

I do want to do long rides but I'd like to be riding a bike that has less vibration. 500 miles a day on my thumper at highway speeds leaves me bone-rattled. I am looking at other bikes, but will just put off any long trips until I can afford to buy something with more cylinders. What I really need is a bigger garage for three bikes, a point-to-point bike, a sport-touring bike, and a track bike. That would be heaven.

I just watched a video tape of a Discovery Channel Biker Build Off program, the one where Indian Larry helps Billy Lane get Lane's bike started so they can ride to Sturgis. Indian Larry's bike is voted best by the crowd, but he decides that there are no winners and no losers at this contest, just great bike builders. He and Lane split (literally) the trophy in pieces. At the end of the program I saw the "In memoriam" for Indian Larry, he died at the end of August. My throat tightened and I blinked away tears as I searched the web for the story.

Choppers don't do much for me, but I love watching the Biker Build Off program. I'm fascinated by the metal-working skills, the creativity of these unique minds, and the single-minded dedication to their art. Indian Larry, with the help of fellow master builders, and the Discovery Channel, achieved his goal. We recognize building motorcycles as an art form. Crown Publishers will release his autobiography in 2005.

Turn 2, Spring Mountain track in Pahrump, Nevada            Photo ©2004 Killboy.com

This was the 3rd annual Femmoto event, a track day organized by Sport Bike Track Time. One hundred women rode bikes from Kawasaki, Moto Guzzi, and Aprilia on Saturday. Sunday was a normal (co-ed) track day. Our pit was a reunion of about a dozen women from Karolyn's "wet leather" gang (as in what happens when you ride in the rain).

The Saturday novice group was for the most part new to the track. There were about fifty women in that group with about a forty-year age span. The oldest novice woman looked to be in her sixties but these days you can't really tell, she could have been ten years older. Better late than never.

I rode in the Intermediate group on a succession of Kawis, the 250 Ninja, 500 Ninja, and ZZR600. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to ride the ZX636R because at least two of the women in my pit were grinning loudly about the 636 and considering it for their next bike. The Moto Guzzi Breva, a 750 twin, was visually interesting, but I'll keep my BMW 650 thumper.

The Aprilia Falco V-twin sport touring bike was my first ride on a litre bike (1000 cc), 104 horse-power. After the first lap I had to hold myself back - there was way more power there than I knew what to do with and the bike is a lot more sensitive than what I ride. Nice suspension, pretty good console. Aprilia and BMW must think gas gauges are for weenies because neither of them have such, just an idiot light. Very nice deep roar out of the pipes. If they want to give this bike away, I would be honored to take it. Too much bike for point-to-point riding, but it would keep up with Peter and his VFR just fine. The gossip is that there will be a 550cc Aprilia out soon. The 550 would be the perfect size for my track riding.

I was disappointed that Buell pulled out of the demo vendors. I've sat on the Firebolt a few times at trade shows; it fits me well. I had hoped to get to know it better.

I was expecting to have the nervous gut on Saturday. I've never been on this track, and I'm riding someone else's bike. Instead, I found myself incensed with the mushy suspension of the Ninja 250, and annoyed with the tall gearing (the gears engage late as you release the clutch) of the 250 and 500. I'm told that's just the way Kawasakis are, you get used to it, I suppose. Why wasn't I worried that they sent the Intermediate group out there with no sighting laps? I appear to have turned the corner in my confidence in my ability to ride an unfamiliar track. Certainly I wasn't riding it well, but I did not cause any of the demo bikes to ride off the tarmac into the paint job scaring crushed granite.

Having the opportunity to ride a bunch of other bikes is wonderful. Next time, I won't limit myself to the smaller bikes. Femmoto staff provided "catchers" so that if your feet don't reach all the way to the ground, you just waved your feet in the air as you pull into the pits, and some nice person would come catch and stabilize you and hold the bike while you dismounted.

I bought a pair of custom-molded ear plugs from one of the on-site vendors. Those cylindrical foam pieces don't sit well in my ear. If I don't get them in just right, when I put on my helmet, they turn sideways in my ear and often drop to the ground. I have a 5-second rule: if it was on the ground less than five seconds, I can put it back in my ear. The new ear plugs fit well, they are purple, and I'm happy with them.

Sunday was the real fun. My F3 may be heavy and technologically behind the times, but it is what I know and trust.

There was a conspiracy to get me to the next riding level. First, Debi (Ms. Shark) asked when I was going to start moving my butt. "When I'm good and ready." was my tight-lipped response. I wasn't getting the message but the universe is patient with babies and fools. I had already planned to go out with a teacher for my next session.

My teacher was a young lady named Sherry. Any female younger than me is a "young lady". Sherry looked to be in her mid-twenties, young enough to be my daughter. She used to ride an F3. Now she's riding a Honda 600 RR. She followed me for a couple laps, then zipped in front of me. Halfway down the stretch before Turn 3 she stood up on her pegs and remained that way for a few seconds.

I'm looking at her legs and her butt thinking, "Okay, you've got my attention." Then she waggled her butt at me, right, left, right. "Hmm, she's trying to tell me something." She lowered her left buttock onto the right side of the seat, threw out her knee, and dived neatly into the corner. I grudgingly slid over to the right, half a cheek off the bike, aligned my spine with my butt, and dived into the corner. She was waiting for me. Setting up for the next corner, she stood up on her pegs again. It was too bad she was wearing mens leathers; if that suit had had a waist, this would have been a nice show. Sure enough, she waggles her butt again, this time left, right, left. "Okay, okay." I slid over so that my whole left cheek was out there in the open air, my spine aligned off the center line of the bike, threw out a knee, and slipped through the corner. She gave me a thumbs up for my trouble. Evidently the rest of this track day was going to be about moving my butt off the center line and picking up some speed in the corners.

The picture below shows the difference in body position. The rider behind me is easily passing me on the outside. This picture was from Saturday, when I rode the Aprilia Falco.

Photo ©2004 Killboy   Killboy.com

Sherry would stomp on the edge of the track to encourage me to get where I needed to be to set up for a turn. Her lines made sense. I absorbed as much from her as I could. Sherry went on to help two other women in my pit group. We all agreed, she is going to be a very good teacher.

Next session, I got out there and threaded the 5A - 5B sequence smoothly and efficiently with an exit line good enough to be on the gas fifty percent more than previous attempts. Ooh ooh. Where's a man when I need one? I've already taken care of the foreplay but it still can't take too long, I don't want to miss my next session. There was a young lady walking around in the pits wearing a T-shirt that said, "Nice Bike. Wanna Fuck?" All such thoughts were banished when I messed up my entry into Turn 7 and had to endure the F3's sighs as I struggled to get out of the 4,000 rpm wading pool.

Although on the look out for the "dangerous animals" we were warned about in the riders' meeting, we never saw any of the local endangered species, the desert tortoise. If riders spied a tortoise, we were supposed to make a hand signal to the corner workers, who would shut down the track so the critter could be moved to safety.

The ride to and from Pahrump was an adventure of its own. Karolyn, Franka, and I loaded and unloaded our bikes and gear on our own. Sure it is easier with help, but what a great feeling to know that we can do it by ourselves. Karolyn's bike sat in the bed of her truck. Franka's and my bikes sat nose to tail in 6 x 9 foot trailer. Franka had those bikes and all our pit gear strapped in tighter than a Victorian corset. The only problem was that the connector between the trailer and the truck wasn't transmitting the brake light signal. Running lights and turn signals, yes. But not brake lights. I drove behind Karolyn in my Honda Civic as her "brake lights". The trip was 12 long hours of tailgating in each direction.

The I-15 desert is full of odd things, including very tall Kachina dolls and a hydrological feature with the name "Zzyxz Springs". The utility company that installed telephone and power lines across the desert many years ago used a support structure that looks like a Ripened Corn Kachina doll. As a child I thought the desert must be a very powerful place because of all those Kachina dolls guarding it.

  
Two examples of Hemis, the Ripened Corn Kachina

After two days in the desert wind, our eyeballs were just about sand-blasted. Next time I'm bringing goggles. There will most definitely be a next time, I like this technical track. Just up the road a ways is a track I may never visit, the Reno-Fernley track, wonderful for litre bikes and people who live for pinning open their throttle.

As for Femmoto event, frankly the idea of being one of a hundred women riders made me uncomfortable. Even so, what Femmoto is doing is important, and I want to be a part of it. Femmoto reminds me of the two women-only Aikido seminars I attended in the early 1990's. In my first dojo, for several years I was the only woman on the mat. Attending the women-only seminars allowed me to see women black-belts, and watch them train at levels far beyond what I could imagine for myself based on my experience in my own dojo.

Femmoto isn't just a demo ride day for women, it is a public service in the name of finding a cure for breast cancer and opening the door for women to find their own way. The novice group is for riders comfortable at highway speeds who are curious about the track. The advanced group is primarily racers, the intermediate group is everyone in between. The current format is women-only the first day, men are welcome on the second day. If you have an interest in the track, Cecilie-bob says check it out.

Changes in my riding (for the better) are coming soon, I can taste it.