My favorite ride is now officially ‘vintage’ having just passed the venerable age of 25 years – and that is my NEW bike! It goes where I want it to with aplomb and has never left me stranded.  Maintenance is relatively easy and uncomplicated and I don’t have to re-mortgage the house when it needs new tires. So why am I looking for another bike; a new bike?

Like the man who climbed mountains “because they were there,” I am looking at new bikes because they are shiny and new and available – and have a lot of horsepower to spare… I think it is the horsepower part that really grabs me! Occasionally, just occasionally, I would like to be able to wipe the self-satisfied smirk from the face of some squid that gets his kicks by passing me on the double yellow in oncoming traffic!

When I am being honest with myself, I know that I really don’t like riding on the edge. Thrills are one thing, frightening myself is quite another. Unfortunately, I’m not immune to the condition that David Hough refers to as “whimpophobia.” Truth is, very few of us are.  Mostly we learn to live with the fact that we aren’t piloting the hottest thing on two wheels, nor are our skills up to the task – but there are times…

I am most at risk of silly temptations and attempted feats of bravado when I’m riding with others. If ‘X’ can run that corner at 80kph on his supersport, why can’t I? So I push a little harder and run a little more throttle than normal, and the bike scrapes a bit and my heart rate jumps a bunch. And why? Just to prove to anyone who might care that I can cut the mustard too. But nobody is watching, so why do I still push?  I know better. Our riding skills are different, the tires are different, the bike is way different – Yet my ego can still be bruised by riding within my own limits. Dumb!!! Yes dumb, but very real.  And I don’t even have to deal with that ever-dangerous mix of horsepower and testosterone!

As much as we might think that our age and experience and choice of bike might set us apart from the crowd, human nature seems to dictate a degree of competition that can easily lead down a scary road. Just because that technicoloured sportbike can run rings around your touring bike doesn’t mean that your skills are any less – it is a case of comparing apples and oranges.  And the place to settle who is the better rider when the other variables have been eliminated? Why, that is called a race, and races are best confined to official racetracks!

Our ever fragile egos…  They can sneak up and bite us unexpectedly. The opportunities for competition are as endless as destinations for rides. And the most frightening location of all is the showroom floor. The purchase of too much bike or the wrong style of bike in order to satisfy your lust/want/need is a recipe for disaster. Salespeople are big into selling. Your particular skills and needs may not be part of their sales pitch. Buyer beware – in more ways than one. Competitiveness seems to be a hardwired into us. This is not a bad thing and we probably wouldn’t have survived as a species without it.  But to pilot a motorcycle safely and for the long haul, the competitive reflexes should be firmly quashed, or at least held in check. Besides, it makes it easier to wave to fellow cyclists when you aren’t running at redline. -- Alison Green

Allison in the saddle with her favorite passenger, her dog Cassie.

Riding skills… It's all about saddle time!

You can read until your brain is foggy but if you don’t get out there and do it, you won’t be gaining skills and improving your survival skills. Consider for a moment the plight of recreational pilot. He/she is obliged to fly a minimum number of hours in a specified period of time just to maintain the privilege of piloting an aeroplane. No competent pilot that I have ever met considers the regulation minimum hours to be even remotely enough air time to maintain their edge and keep on top of the game.

Where does that leave motorcycle riders? The skill set required to stay safe is comparable to flying and the hazards to personal safety just as great – but there is no set minimum for saddle time. There isn’t even an expiration date on the driver’s permit in some states – once legal, always legal – unless of course you run afoul of the constabulary.

My guesstimate is that an annual mileage of 3,000miles (5,000km) should be a minimum considered for keeping one’s self in the game. Physical skills, mental aptitude, awareness of traffic and time; the old adage of “use it or loose it” applies equally to riding skills as it does to languages. Not just our bodies need the practice – our minds do too. Riding skills are perishable goods.

Too many of our fellow riders have a single season of experience which they keep repeating year after year. Their bikes have never seen rain – so the rider doesn’t know how to ride on wet pavement. Likewise an aversion to gravel roads means that the occasional stretch of highway construction is met with angst and white knuckles and frequently a sliding motorcycle. The sudden necessity to swerve around an object in the line of travel can cause grief as the instinct to direct-steer takes command over the ability to counter-steer (if indeed the individual understands counter-steering at all). Everyday occurrences that should not be cause for concern for the skilled and practiced motorcyclist repeatedly cause crashes. These are almost always avoidable crashes that unfortunately get labelled “accidents” by all concerned – and very little is learned.  Somehow the maxim that “we learn from our mistakes” does not seem to sink in below the beanie for far too many riders.

For the novice rider, the tasks of shifting/braking/steering can be all-consuming and leave very little brain capacity left for attention to the surrounding scene. This is normal. Until the mechanics of operating a motorcycle are hard-wired and unconscious actions, then the focus of the ride cannot be thoroughly shifted to the ebb and flow of traffic around you. But mastering the basics of clutch and throttle is just the beginning – and there is no end to the learning curve! Skills development, whether undertaken under the tutelage of an instructor or not, is a lifelong commitment. If we close our minds to learning new techniques and better ways to keep ourselves safe, then we have already opened the door to potential calamity. And learning new skills is only part of the equation – we must constantly hone those skills which we already have, or they too will be lost.

In our world of seasonal riding we are doubly at peril of loosing skills during the long winters. Not only can our skill set get rusty over winter, but in spring we have to contend with automotive traffic that has completely forgotten that motorcycles exist! Riding to and from the donut shop just isn’t sufficient mileage to keep anyone in the game – and doubly so if you dress to impress rather than dressing for safety conscious riding. Too many bikes have become fashion accessories or ego enhancements, without the commitment of the riders to really learn how to ride. This isn’t doing the sport of motorcycling any justice – nor our insurance rates. On the plus side, many of these ‘fashion accessory’ machines have seen very little road-time and there should soon be a treasure trove of low-mileage, never-ridden-in-the-rain bikes for sale. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing... Want to buy a nearly-new metric cruiser with ultimate chrome? Ride safe and ride often! -- Alison Green

In this part of the world the riding season is over for all but the most hardy (or foolhardy) and it is long past due for a sorting effort in my motorcycle gear cupboard. Stuff keeps falling out! Upon inspection, my gear storage is crammed ridiculously full and finding specific items has become increasingly frustrating. Time to purge! I buy new stuff, and sometimes even fancy stuff, but nothing gets tossed!

I took a good long look at my favourite full-face helmet and was horrified to discover that the Snell sticker said 90! (1990). I know that it was purchased new in ’95 – and consequently for a very good price as the ’95 Snell units were available by then –  but still, that was too many years ago. The helmet has been dropped, scuffed, scratched and generally rather abused. I can no longer get replacement face-shields for it and the existing one is almost opaque. The lining looks rather moth-eaten and frayed about the edges. Why have I kept it for so long?  Like a comfortable pair of slippers that are out at the toes –  it fits and I am accustomed to it…  

With courage firmly in hand I snip off the chinstraps and consign it to the waste-bin. Done!  Likewise the ancient ¾ helmet that tries to lift me off the bike at speeds over 60kph. It is at least one size too large now as the liner seems to have compacted – and it is easily 20 years old. Gone! Whew!

The next layer to be sorted is the contents of the glove shelf. Tired, split, separated linings, too small, too big –  and I have kept them all.  I think that there must be fond memories with each pair: why else would I keep them knowing full well that they will not be worn again? It is somehow cathartic to look at the shelf now with just the three pairs of current handwear – cold weather, summer, and waterproof. (plus my old summer gloves that are just too comfortable to part with even though the Velcro cuff no longer fastens).

In the box with the miscellaneous stuff, I sort through memories and more memories and very little truly useful stuff – neck warmers that don’t stay put, scarves that are too bulky, rain overboots that only a contortionist could get into, a back support belt that I have never worn – gone, all gone! Now I have a tidy assortment of useful extras.  

Over the years I have collected so many pieces of rain-wear that one might think I lived in Oregon!  After a merciless sorting, the collection is pared down to two pairs of waterproof pants (insulated and un-insulated) and one very useful rainjacket that fits over my regular gear without causing me to struggle.

Why has this stuff sat in the cupboard for so long?  Inertia, I suppose, and the thought that someday, just maybe I would find a use for these items. Besides, they seemed far too good to just toss.

I might ride a vintage motorcycle, but my gear doesn’t have to be vintage! New armoured synthetic gear is way ahead of leather in my books and it never leaves me dyed purple/black when it gets wet. My good raingear actually keeps out the wet and I have a modern, modular helmet which gives me the best of both a full-face and the convenience of a ¾ helmet. My secret is out – I’m a pack rat at heart!

I suspect that I am not the only rider who harbours a collection of somewhat motley gear that is past due for retirement. Especially helmets. They do not last forever and the old comfortable ones have probably ceased to provide the protection that they should. Do yourself and your loved ones a favour and ditch the ancient favourite lid for a new, uncompromised one. And no, don’t keep it ‘just in case.’ Even the occasional passenger deserves good head protection. It really is money well spent – and trust me, the new one will smell a lot better!

Now if I can just apply this rigorous sorting and chucking effort to my dresser drawers… Nah, that would be far too painful a process… maybe next year. -- Alison Green