I have a bad habit of hitting the engine kill switch, getting distracted, and then leaving the bike’s ignition on. (This is usually someplace safe, like home; otherwise I obsess over the key.) In this case I rode over to a friend’s place, and he’s got a sloped driveway. I had to move the bike around to find a level spot to park it, and by then I forgot all about the key in the ignition.

Forty-five minutes later my hand went to my pocket, and I noticed the key was missing. I went out and found it in the ignition, and when I tried to start her I got nothing but clicks. Swell. I first figured I’d have to jump it, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to jump a bike with a car. Not to mention it would be damn near impossible to get the connectors onto the battery terminals anyway.

Then I remembered learning about bump starting the bike by popping the clutch:

It’s really the only option besides having my wife bring over the trickle charger, then return for the bike in a day or two. I intended to practice bump starting at some point anyway, so I decided I may as well give it a shot.

This is where my friend’s sloped driveway came in handy. I pushed up to the top, found 2nd gear, rolled, popped the clutch… and vroom! I half expected to shoot across the street and break my neck, but it was actually very smooth and easy.

I forget what first prompted me to look up bump starting, but I’m glad I did. I tend to read up on riding tips, and in this case it saved me a lot of trouble. Now Lenore is back home and sipping electricity from the battery minder, and she should be back in action tomorrow.

And there you have it, fellow bike rookies: Ever wondered how to handle a dead battery? Now you know.

It was like being in the boys locker room again, looking around with that awkward, inadequate feeling you have before you learn there are showers and growers and maybe you’re not so bad off after all.

Lenore’s a comfortable ride and I’m sure we’ll be together a long time, be it for financial reasons or otherwise, but man, I was sorely tempted to take the left turn onto I-74 and ride out to Walters Brothers HD to do a little Father’s Day drooling.

Instead I just reminded myself of the small bike mantra: It ain’t the size of the bike that matters; it’s how you ride her.

It’s easy to spot riding season in Illinois because you start seeing motorcycles everywhere. In the central and southern parts of the state, there are a lot of wide, open roads to cruise, and you’ll see riders of all ages and genders riding just about every style of bike there is from cruisers and sportbikes to trikes and touring bikes. The yellow ABATE “Start Seeing Motorcycles” banners start showing up along the busier roads, and the local dealerships start running out of stock on their less expensive models.

This is also when you start seeing “blessing of the bikes” ceremonies. This is like a small rally where the group will get a priest or a minister to say a prayer and put a blessing on everyone’s bike.

Blessing isn’t really my thing, but I do think it’s an interesting part of riding culture. It reminds me a bit of the way Shinto priests bless electronic gadgets like cell phones so they don’t get lost, damaged, stolen, or suffer some other misfortune. If they feel safer or more comfortable on their bike, then more power to ‘em. (Provided, of course, they don’t go overboard and think they’re invincible.) I only learned about them a year or so ago when I found a riding club in Bloomington, IL, held them frequently, and it turns out they’re a very common practice.

In fact, somebody put one together the next town over. I thought about checking it out and taking some pictures but I had to be out of town that day. Too bad, as it might have been fun to see. I would have rolled through the line if only to talk about it, though again it’s not something I put much stock in (my own superstition is naming my bike).

Maybe next year.

Though I guess I better take that Flying Spaghetti Monster sticker off my bike first…

Tonight I noticed the sun blazing orange in the sky and decided to jump on Lenore and shoot some pics from the saddle. I mounted up and drove west on a wide-open, rural road just north of town, then fired away. I didn’t get too fancy, but in the spam of about five miles I snapped 140 pics. I slurped the pics over to the laptop, then narrowed it down to three I kind of liked.

Shadow at Sunset

In this first one, I stopped at an intersection for a moment. Those tracks in the ground are from a farmer’s tractor, probably having rolled across the asphalt either shortly after the road was resurfaced or during an extremely hot day.

The next two I shot while in motion, the first off the left side of the bike…

Look Ma, one hand!

…and the second off the right side.

Hey, who's on the throttle?

See those speed lines on the asphalt? That’s why you’re not supposed to look down when riding a bike; your brain can’t process the environment changing that fast. Occasional glances won’t hurt when you’re running in a straight line, but it’s really not a good idea when you’re turning or threatened by a loss of control.

I cranked up the aperture and shot in aperture priority mode so I could achieve a deep depth of field, ideally keeping everything from the bike’s tank down to the ground in focus (aside from the motion blur, of course). I’m very happy with these as a first attempt.

Lessons learned:

1) Sunlight changes fast. In just a few minutes, I went from having plenty of light for the settings I selected down to having some serious underexposure issues. Next time I’ll have to stop and reset my camera settings from time to time.

2) When you can’t look through the lens (I’m not ready to pull a Josh Kurpius and stand on the foot pegs, no matter how cool his pics are), AI servo focus and continuous shooting mode are lifesavers.

3) While amber goggles throw a nice layer of clarity onto the world in twilight conditions, effectively brightening the scenery, it’s important to remember the camera isn’t wearing those same goggles. Want the camera to have that same clarity of vision? Buy a lens filter.

I went out to Peoria Heights to pick it up, and found the in-person service as friendly and helpful as on the phone. They got some more money out of me as I purchased an oil filter, filter wrench, and oil. Tomorrow I get to play amateur mechanic.

While I was there, I browsed the showroom. The Phantom, unfortunately, did not look quite as sharp in person. The Fury, meanwhile, looked much better, especially in black. Here’s a look at the Fury:

Still may not be the bike for me, but I do dig it. It was like the Harley Iron 883: the black denim didn’t grab me in photographs, but when I walked past one in a bar’s parking lot, it really caught my eye.

Which reminds me, I need to take a ride out to the local Harley dealership to sniff around sometime…

A local bike shop doesn’t seem to understand that. I bought my helmet there, happened to see Lenore at the same time, and bought her about the same time. Those were a matter of convenience and luck, respectively, and by the time I added new tires and saddlebags to Lenore, I dropped a good buck there. Return visits have been for simple things, but asking simple questions about those simple things appeared to be an inconvenience for the owner.

This week I cracked open Lenore and decided I need to replace the air filter. I called the same local shop, asked if they have them in stock, and got a quick negative and the guy started to hang up. I asked if he could order it. An impatient yes. I said I’d stop down and order it, and the answer was pretty much “Okay, *click*.”

Alright, then. Time to find someone actually interested in my money.

I called Grayboy on Prospect in Peoria Heights, got their parts department. I told the guy what I needed. He asked if I needed any other parts, then checked their stock. When he returned he politely informed me it was out of stock but he could have it in three or four business days. I asked if he could order it right away, and he said I could order it over the phone. They even had my name in their system already from when I bought some gloves a few years ago.

Now I’ll be stopping in there on Tuesday to pick up an air filter and spend even more money on oil, an oil filter, and an oil filter wrench.

That wasn’t so difficult, was it? I don’t need my ass kissed, but I’m more than willing to hand over money to someone who’s willing to find a way to take it.

What’s more, it will give me a chance to drool on a 2010 Honda Shadow Phantom:

I have no reason to upgrade yet, but I kinda dig that blacked-out look. I’m just reserving judgment until I see it in person.

Word is they have the Fury in stock, too. The faux-custom thing doesn’t do much for me — I prefer a beefy cruiser to the stripped-down chopper — but it might be fun to kick the tires.

I'm back, baby!

I’ve spotted more and more bikes on the road the last week and a half or so, too. Some guys put on their chilly weather gear and even hit the roads the first weekened of March. Every time I spotted a bike, I got excited and more than a little jealous. (And felt silly until I learned a friend of mine gets the same giddy feeling.)

I haven’t taken her out of town yet, but I’ve taken her out a couple times to get her blood going and to make sure everything’s running in tip-top shape before we get out on the road. Opening the throttle, leaning into the turns, shifting through the gears… it all came back to me. After a few minutes it felt like I’d only put her away last week.

Of course, next week we’re supposed to get rain and cold again. Argh. Summer can’t come soon enough!

That doesn’t make a good excuse, of course. I wear a helmet, boots, and a leather jacket and gloves most of the time, so it’s pretty silly to neglect my legs. I’m looking at installing crash bars on Lenore, but they’re only going to do so much. Maybe they’ll help prevent a crushed ankle, but they’re not going to stop asphalt from tearing into my ass like a cheese grater if I take a slide. Over the winter I started browsing the web for crash gear just for grins, and I stumbled across Draggin’ Jeans on Amazon.

Made by Fast Company, Draggin’ Jeans are denim jeans lined with Kevlar. In a slide, the denim may give way, but the Kevlar layer holds up and prevents shredded flesh. I’ve been hesitant to buy because I wasn’t sure how well they’d really hold up, but Ruben’s post prompted me to look them Draggin’ Jeans again. This time I hit YouTube and found a good video of guys putting Draggin’ Jeans to the test:

Better them than me. There’s a longer video here, which also offers a better look at the denim damage.

Looks good to me. May have to start rubbing some pennies together and see if I can’t land a pair.

Oops.

So this year I figure I best start strong. Rather than messing with a focused theme like 52 Weeks or joining another group, I dreamed up Photo Friday. Every Friday, I’ll post a picture or two of whatever strikes me at the time. To get rolling, I took the camera outside to see what I could do with snow. I came back with two pics.

First, I visited the motorcycle in the garage.

Soon, my sweet. Soon.

In all honesty, while the snow was blowing outside, it wasn’t the whiteout you see here. However, the overexposure of the background created a nice deception that I felt worked for the picture. The real trick was keeping our low garage door and the kids’ toys and our van outside of the frame.

(Side note: get a load of the custom floor for Lenore to park on. This keeps the salt and snow off her tires and kickstand. Do I pamper her or what?)

That done, I walked into the back yard. We have some nice, high drifts, but nothing that made for a particularly interesting picture. The snow on the picnic tables showed just how much we received, but it wouldn’t be particularly impressive to anyone living in the frozen North.

Then I spotted the kids’ swings, complete with contoured snow in the seats, swaying gently in the wind.

Won't you play with me?

They just seemed so abandoned, so I pushed through the drifts and snapped away.

The Photo Friday moniker has a nice, alliterative feel to it, and Friday gives me plenty of time during the week to get my pictures taken. Only one problem: the next two Fridays, I’ll be out of town doing some book signings and hitting a convention. As a result, I may cheat a little and post on Thursday night. Or Monday. Or something.

I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it.

Every time I pass Lenore in the garage, I feel the urge to fire her up. Wet, cold Illinois weather is not always conducive to riding, however, especially for a relative rookie. I can’t tell you how jealous I am right now of friends like Weston Ochse, Nate Southard, and Paul Legerski, who all live in comfortable riding weather year-round. Note I qualified that as comfortable riding weather. If I have to dress up in layers of clothing just to get on two wheels, that’s just not a good trade-off to me because lugging and stowing all that extra gear would be a pain in the ass.

Right now the idea is to explore my limits of comfortable. After an unusually cold Halloween, we’re now getting a bit of an Indian summer. Last weekend the temps crept up to the low 60s, so Saturday morning I zipped up my leather jacket (probably the first time I actually unsnapped and closed the lapels), busted out the leather riding gloves for the first time since my riding class, and rode Lenore out to breakfast and then to karate class.

It was probably around 50 when I took off, and a stiff wind blew across the fields. I thought I’d feel most of it in my legs, but as it turned out the worst was a cold spot along my jawline. The wind came right in under the rim of my helmet, concentrated on that one spot, and after just a few minutes it started to sting. The few minutes of irritation was worth it come that afternoon, though, as temps climbed up to 68 and I spent a little more time on the road.

We should be seeing mid fifties and sunshine this week, so I ordered myself a simple balaclava to keep the wind off my neck and jaw. Another rider friend, Eric Masek, rides all the way down into the 40s, so I’m going to give that a shot as long as it stays dry enough. I spotted a pair of fleece-lined, Kevlar riding jeans that may help keep me on the bike longer, too (I’ve never been a big fan of long johns, but I suppose that’s an option I should consider).

Meanwhile, I’ve got another reason to be jealous of Nate: he just picked up a Harley-Davidson Iron 883 Sportster he’s dubbed The Late Late Show. I wasn’t particularly taken with the Iron 883 after seeing it on TV and in magazines, but then I spotted one in a parking lot in Peoria and it got me drooling. That black denim paint and blacked-out engine looks much sharper in person, and I’ve been eyeballing them ever since. I think Nate also made the right move adding the forward controls, and those ape hangers look damn good on his bike.

Like I said: jealous.

Of course, now I see Honda is putting out the Shadow Phantom for 2010. With its blacked-out engine and $7999 price point, I’m guessing it’s a direct competitor to the Iron 883, and will add to Honda’s “Honda-Davidson” rep. It’s got a smaller engine but already has the forward controls and it has glossy black paint instead of the matte black the Harley sports.

That’s not to say I’m in a hurry to ditch Lenore anytime soon. The last thing I need is another payment right now, and Lenore is a solid, comfortable ride. I have a few more customizations in mind for her, too, including a set of crash bars for that inevitable day she goes down on her side.

In the meantime it’s fun to drool while I get this weather thing figured out.