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Philosophy: On the Road, Of The Road, …and All That
By
Dave Preston
Had an epiphany last month. Not your common occurrence, but
Sportbike Northwest will do that for you. Here’s the background for
a brief sojourn into metaphysics.
Many are the roads that lead to Sportbike Northwest. Our Cycle Barn
group (most of us at any rate) take a route laid out along the west
side of Mt. Rainier, and then south on such paved memories as “Skate
Creek Road” and FR 25 south from Randle. My choice of steed this
year was a Buell Ulysses, which astounded with its abilities on
these sorts of roads. There I was, leading about a dozen sport bikes
of varying colors of pedigree, and all of them had one thing in
common – more power than a Buell Ulysses. Not that a Ulysses is that
short on snot, but most sport bikes these days have more power than
anyone needs, or can use in many cases. Cases especially like these
roads.
Despite a relative dearth of raw power, nobody was held up by my
lead pace, and most could not match it. This is not our usual
experience.
As I sailed along, I appreciated the ample padding, this time
provided by the bike and not me. I noticed the suspension travel and
resiliency. The Buell could absorb crashing potholes my Speed Triple
would use to send shattering shocks up my spine. I learned that the
brakes worked with no fuss or drama – uphill or downhill, any angle
of lean, and through quite severe bumps and ruts – clenching the
lever just caused the bike to slow down with perfect control. No
wobbles, no standing up or falling-in, no loss of composure at all
in any plane. All of this was a performance of greater
sophistication than I expected.
After a while I could predict how each bump would affect my friends
– and I would actually wince in expectation of their pain. A quick
glance in the mirrors showed them smashing various and sundry nether
bits into fuel tanks. At one point I actually launched the Buell off
a rise and had both wheels off the ground long enough to think,
“Wow, this would hurt on my Speed Triple,” before landing smoothly
(and painlessly) and moving on.
I’ve ridden to Sportbike Northwest previously on a Kawasaki ZX12R, a
Triumph Speed Triple, and a Triumph Sprint ST. On this trip I went
at least as fast as my earlier efforts, and there was no comparison
in comfort level. Of course, there are limits. When I really got
into it, my right toe began to scrape the ground on a right-hander.
Since the foot peg is about 6 feet off the ground on a Ulysses I
found this alarming, but told myself not to worry because I always
go harder to the right.
Sidebar – check the “chicken strips” on the sides of your rear tire.
You’ll probably notice they’re slightly wider on one side than the
other. Most people corner harder in one direction or the other;
another difference between we mortals and Moto GP gods.
However, when I began to touch down my LEFT toe I took the
reasonable option – I slowed down.
On the way back we stopped at the curiously named “Dooby’s” in
Packwood. I recommend the place, even if not too sure about the
derivation of the name, which according to the owners came from a
childhood TV show. As we reposed in the late summer sun and enjoyed
lunch, Tom began to rant about SR 25. He was actually physically,
mentally, and verbally furious with… a road. To him the road had
been punishing him personally, and unfairly. Dave, our token BMW
rider, replied with “The road is the road is the road.” Our eyes met
and we both said “Ooohhh!” Deep thoughts! I followed it with “You
have to ride the road that is.” More deep sighs.
We laughed for the rest of the meal but really, isn’t there some
meaning there? SR 25 is a road – period. It does not ask anyone to
ride it, certainly not at any speed. You could argue (and I would)
that the state highway folks deliberately allow the pavement to
deteriorate to deter masses of motorcyclists from riding at highly
illegal speeds – and by golly that works. When you come to a winding
road that has not been maintained as if it were an asphalt pool
table you do have choices. Among them are to take a different road,
use a different motorcycle, or… gasp… slow down.
I think we often get into a “rhythm” when riding on gorgeous remote
roads that exists simply nowhere but in our heads. We’re shifting
down for corners, rolling across apexes, and accelerating hard to
where the next corner should be, but in reality – maybe the highway
engineer had a different idea, or maybe the guy backing out of the
driveway with the trailer is marching to the beat of a different
drummer, or perhaps that last rain storm washed away the approach
you were planning on using. There is no guarantee of the perfect
line, or that oncoming traffic will behave according to logic or
reason, or even that the road will have been paved competently in
the first place. There was a day when road engineers laid out
highways to offer the motorist the best and most scenic views – and
that day was over before the start of the FIRST World War.
Riding a motorcycle, especially on a winding road, has a lot of
similarities to playing music. The motorcycle is the instrument, and
the two of you can make beautiful music together, even jazz, as long
as you keep in mind that you are not the original composer.
“The road is the road is the road…”
Yes, it is. And you must ride the road that is.
Dave Preston is the author of Motorcycle 101, a sensible book
for the new and returning rider. Pick up a copy today in the
Sound RIDER! store. |
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