There are so very few people who ride that it baffles me. There is not a single person I know in my very extensive circle of family and friends who ride. How sad. How very, very sad for you. You don't know what you're missing, and I honestly believe that you'd love it. I know you're breezing over these sentences and thinking "that's not for me." Fair 'nuff. But seriously and honestly envision yourself riding a motorcycle through a twisty turny road in Vermont.
See it? Can you look me straight in the eye and say that you can see it? You look good and are smiling so widely that it hurts! Right? Right? Moving onward now, and getting off the soap box.
This post was motivated by the latest issue of Rider magazine, to which I have a subscription because of a good friend of mine. You know who you are, and how much I appreciate it. :)
The first thing I wish to discuss is a point raised in the excellent article written by Kevin Wing. Not only is it comprehensive and fair, but Kevin also clearly has a mastery of the English language which makes me wince in jealousy that I'm not in his shoes. To be a writer for Rider! *sigh* I digress.
In his review of the 2009 BMW K1300 (not my style, but hey, there's a bike for everybody), there is mention of an option that has piqued my curiosity. Kevin says "BMW offers an optional Gear Shift Assistant [GSA]. More colloquially known as a quick-shifter ... the GSA uses a Hall-effect switch to briefly cut injection and ignition for smooth, clutchless upshifts. You don't have to use it — electronic wizardry disables it when the clutch is engaged — but take it from me, it will become your new BFF."
Okay . . . three hours after reading those sentences, I'm still pondering exactly what it means. Seriously. I honestly don't get it. I think it means the GSA feature would allow me to ram up through my gears on Val from first to third (without grabbing the clutch with my left hand?!) in order to rip from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.
If so, I want that shit retrofitted onto her. Now. Right now. She's a cruiser, not a GT. I've scraped her footpegs (and exhaust) against the pavement plenty of times, but that's simply not what she was designed to do. I'm not a speed demon by any means, yet Val is no slouch since she has six cylinders, nearly 1600 ccs, and a shaft drive. All that said, she's a huge and heavy bitch at 900 pounds, and her low-end HP/torque isn't her strong suit. She still loves me and brings us from zero to sixty close to the same speed that most decent sports cars can muster. Give me fourth gear at 7,000 RPM and I'll see you later in my rear view mirror.
The second point I want to discuss from this issue is the exhaustive and informative article written by Bill Stermer entitled "Mad Hatters." He reviews a wide rage of full-face helmets. It's well written and informative . . . but who cares?
Don't get me started on this subject. Allow me to avoid stating anything publicly which would get me into trouble within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and the very few other states which require DOT-approved helmets. Let me just say that the second I cross the border into New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, or Rhode Island that I unclip my "DOT-approved helmet" and put it into my saddle bag.
If I'm going to get smucked by a car that blows through a red light, then ... well ... okay. I'm dead anyway, so this is a moot point. I'm more likely to die from massive internal injuries than bonking my head off the pavement. If you're chomping at the bit to rant about how I have no idea what it's like to be in an accident or see the repercussions from being hit, you can go pound sand. I know, and have served plenty of time at motorcycle accidents, but won't discuss details here for various reasons. I'm sure you understand.
Every fatality at which I've served was determined to be due to massive internal injuries, with the exception of one poor bastard that happened to clip his bean off of a telephone pole.
I own two full-face DOT-approved helmets. I will occasionally wear one of them if I'm on a long trip which requires three or more hours of highway travel. I always make my passenger (most often one of my kids) wear one. Aside from those times, you can expect to see me wearing my Sox cap backwards or nothing at all.
You, dear reader, deserve an explanation as to why I detest full face helmets. And yeah, I've heard all the counter-arguments before now. Frickin' spare me. This debate is akin to the age-old Macintosh / PC flame war.
Let me tell you about how it really is. Without a helmet or wearing my "legal" skull cap, I can hear, see, and sense things that I simply cannot whilst wearing a full helmet. It's a night and day experience. There is no comparison, it's really and truly that big of a gap, and trust on this point ... I have decades of experience with both options. If I'm going down, I'm going down.
There's an old saying amongst people who ride. "It's not if you drop your bike, but when." Well, bah. I refuse to believe that. I've been riding for two decades, I've taken all of the advanced rider courses one could take, I pay attention, and . . . I still realize that I may likely get smucked at an intersection one day.
So be it. I'd rather have eaten steak, not worked out, and rode a motorcycle for 60 years than die at 80 having been a vegetarian, gym rat, and driving a frickin' Prius.
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2 comments:
One of the reasons I don't ride is that my father forbid it. He was a man who forbid nearly nothing. I was free to do almost anything without any sort of lecture but motorcycles where a no-no. Of course my father's been dead for years and I'm certainly capable of going against his wishes, but it's a small sign of respect that I follow this edict.
But I agree with you about the helmet laws. It was the whole seat belt law thing that turned me onto libertarianism.
I suppose that there's no point in arguing against respecting your father's edict. But ... but ... but I can just SEE you rumbling up on a big cruiser and sharing stories with the roads you've discovered and people you've encountered! Be it a warm summer evening or a crisp fall afternoon, there are endless adventures to be found on a motorcycle that harken back to the earliest days of the automobile in America.
Respect your decision or not, I don't have to like it. I say that sheerly out of knowing how much you would absolutely love it.
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