I have been remiss in writing - the writing muse did not even give me a choice, help with a business proposal or help with the moto journal - she just didn't even stop by this month. The weather for the past weeks has been pretty good for riding but I've not had the mental energy to be as alert as I think I should be so I've been in the cage more than on two wheels for the past few weeks.

Last weekend I pulled the cover off of Rip F3 Van Winkle. It has been asleep since last fall when Peter rode it at Infineon. I've gone over the bike to prep it for the first track day this year. Monday and Tuesday are a "novice day" event at Thunderhill. Novice days are for people who are new to the track, or people who want the generous teacher-student ratio that Keigwins@theTrack provides.

Once the bike was ready, I mounted it for a ride around the block and was delighted to discover the bike feels smaller than it used to. Just last June, the F3 felt huge to me; now it feels normal. After five months on the Sprint I'm just starting to be accustomed to it, but I won't ride it if I'm tired or distracted.

This weekend there's an Aikido seminar in Berkeley. By Sunday late afternoon there will be nothing left in my brain but the essence of existence. Add a good night's sleep, ambient temperatures in the 80s, an experienced track buddy, and you have the makings of a great track day.

Keigwins@theTrack takes continuous improvement seriously. The Monday-Tuesday Novice Day event at Thunderhill in Willows, CA was even better than the one I attended in 2003. The syllabus is pretty much the same, but how they teach what they teach has improved.

My recent close calls on the street have focused my attention on defining exactly what I learn from the track that applies to street riding. Many people go to the track to learn to ride faster; I go to the track to learn to be a better, more safe rider. If I get faster in the process, that's a side effect I'll suffer with.

Recently I was lane-splitting on Highway 80 just before the flyover into Emeryville. A car pulled out without signaling, hit my left hard case, knocking me into the semi-trailer on my right. My right mirror swiveled but didn't tear out of the body work. I managed to stay upright and ride away. Why didn't the bike and I fall over?

Here's what I remember doing - all without thinking about it: I used a bit of brake to lessen the impact with the semi-trailer, I kept my arms flexed. I got on the gas immediately, throwing the bike over to the left hard to get it back on line, and I kept my eyes up.

Other examples are when I've been cut off by a car on the Bay Bridge by drivers who weren't looking for a motorcyclist when they changed lanes, and people who mis-calculated my closing speed and came across an intersection as if they were trying to hit me.

In these cases I've had to brake hard. Sometimes I've had to swerve. or change lanes without time to look over my shoulder. I had to move into a space that was likely already occupied and hope that they would be able to give me a few inches of their space.

Keigwins Novice days provide one-on-one riding time with a teacher - that alone is worth the cost of the admission. The classes on body position, braking and shifting, passing, relaxation, and visual skills and awareness add even more value.

The braking exercise in the classroom is quite entertaining. A bike is stabilized so that a student can mount, assume a riding position, and pull in the brake lever. Each student is asked to squeeze the brake as they would under hard braking conditions. One instructor puts his finger on the brake grip, the other instructor applies pressure to the student's back to simulate the force of hard braking. If the student locks her ams and puts a death grip on the brake, the instructor's finger gets mashed and he hollers. The student keeps trying until she finds the back, abdominal, and thigh muscles she needs to use to keep her ams flexed during hard braking and is able to apply the brake fully without making the teacher yelp.

When I've had to brake hard, I'm drawing on the practice of holding speed down the back straight of Thunderhill, forcing myself not to get on the brakes until the third brake marker, and then braking hard without locking up the brakes, and, applying the brakes so that the front end doesn't dive and tuck under as I lean into Turn 14.

Some teachers use rather unorthodox methods when cajoling and suggesting gets no response. I heard a story about a Keigwin teacher putting duct tape over the top half of a student's visor to force that person to lift their chin and look through a turn. In my case, the practice of looking through the turns has convinced me that you really do go where you look. When I got hit on Hwy 80, I drew on my acquired instinct to look up and find a way out. Had I looked down, I would have gone down.

By the end of the second day of the Novice Day, I knew where the apex of every corner was and I could hit the apex every time. I didn't worry much about speed, I made the track time an exercise in precision and predictability. When I've had to move the bike over two feet and not a centimeter more, and do it right now because someone was about to run over me, I was drawing bike handling skills acquired from trying to hit that late apex on Turn 11, or finding the turn-in point for the hellacious Turn 5, over and over again.

And then there's the heavy sigh that emerges right after I've avoided a bad situation. The sigh that articulates both wonder that the rubber side is still down, and wonder about general level of intelligence and awareness in car-driving human beings. The annoyance, anger, and relief is there, but where's the freak out? Perhaps riding at the track, a high-performance environment is good training for remaining calm after dealing with a bad situation. How many times have I come in too hot on Turn 11, which makes you run wide and possibly into the dirt on Turn 12? So I blew it this time, and I'm pissed off at myself. Next time I'll do better - and next time is the next lap.

The unexpected point of progress was that I'm now able to hang off my bike. I could feel the edge of the seat in between my buttocks. I was sure that the pictures from the track photographer would show me hanging precariously low off the bike. What a disappointment the pictures are. They do confirm that the edge of the seat of the bike is hitting me between the buttocks, but knee-dragging is still a pipe dream. My legs were consumed by lactic acid build-up from moving my body from side-to-side. I had to bag the last session of the first day because I couldn't stand up. By midday of the second day, I was using my body more effeciently. I now know what it feels like to hang off the side of the bike, and use the throttle to let the bike drift wide in preparation for the next corner. The combination of throttle and body position is such a great way to direct the momentum of the bike - figuring this out (finally!) is like discovering a whole new world.

So, yeah, this entry sounds like an advertisement for Keigwins. I'll make it unambiguous - if you are new to the track, give one of their Novice Days a try. If you are thinking about investing in your riding life by tuning your bike to squeeze 20 more horsepower out it, in my humble opinion you'll get more for your money by investing in your riding skills.