Lenore: Free at Last!

I busted Lenore out of the garage at last.

Lenore is free at last!

“Freeeedooooom!”

It’s about time, too. Most of the Spring Break weather sucked, and the rest was a matter of not having the time and running the Rugrats everywhere.

Today I rolled her out, fired her up, and checked the chains, cables, and lights & signals. I rode her down to the gas station to fill up her tank and check her tire pressure, and then I took the long way home all around town to get some wind and work the throttle a bit.

Even that short ride felt great. The little things came rushing back: the feel of looking through and leaning into turns, the tiny catch in her upshift from 1st gear to second, the sweet spot to throttle on between gears. Finding that sync with the machine? That’s Zen, my friends.

Here’s hoping I can stay out of the cage for a while.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

Surrounded by Idiots

Many of us feel this way all the time anyway, but if you’re going to ride a motorcycle, you have to behave as if it were true.

In Peoria last week, a woman turned and ran straight into a motorcyclist. He landed in the hospital in critical condition. They mention a head injury, but don’t mention whether he wore a helmet. No excuse was listed for the driver of the car, but I imagine it was your typical “I didn’t see him” response.

In California, another pinhead tried to use his smartphone to record video of a group of bikers, and he knocked two of them down in the process. In response, they knocked him around and threatened him with a knife. I’m not going to say that’s the right way to handle it, but given the incident, I’m not surprised.

Start Seeing Motorcycles

I’ve been forced to keep my own cool twice this year already.

First, a young woman tailgated me coming out of town. The speed limit jumps from 35 to 55, and I tend to be hard on the throttle so I was right up at 55. I had a turn coming up in a half mile, though, so saw no reason to go any faster until she tried to drive her little red POS up my tailpipe. I put my signal on well ahead of time so she knew I’d be slowing down, and instead of passing me, she just stayed glued to my bumper. I thought about stopping right in front of her, then walking back to have a little chat, but I imagine she’d have freaked out and run me over in self defense. Instead I hugged the shoulder and did my best to stay out of her way when she rocketed past me at the intersection.

In another in-town incident, a van started to back out of a driveway. It was some distance ahead of me, but not far enough that, were I driving a car, it would have been safe or smart to back out. I let off the throttle and covered the brake and clutch, and sure enough, the van showed no intention of stopping. So I stopped, and I watched as an elderly woman eased back out of the driveway, backed toward me, and stopped about eight feet in front of my front tire. Then she just sat in the lane.

And sat, and sat. I don’t know if she saw me and panicked, or thought I was going to pass her, or just got distracted and had something else to do. Someone in the passenger seat finally snapped her out of it and she got rolling… only to stop at the intersection. She had no stop sign, but watched the truck to her left—who did have a stop sign—sit and wait for her to make up her mind. Finally she crept around the corner to the right and drove way. I just shrugged at the truck driver and rode on by. He seemed to get a kick out of that.

These are the people we all share the road with, whether we’re on a bicycle, a motorcycle, or in a car. The nice thing about riding the motorcycle is I’ve become more alert even when I drive the family grocery getter. I’ve spotted and slowed for things the Wife hadn’t noticed. I’ve become better at predicting when someone is about to do something stupid, like yesterday when a woman raced ahead of our van, then swept across our lane and into a right turn lane.

If I’m rolling up on someone at an intersection and I don’t make eye contact with them, I assume they’re about to screw me. Illinois may be a helmet-optional state, but I don’t drive out of town without one. When I get my hands on the Bell Drifter DLX I’ve been eyeballing a while, I intend to wear it even on the short trips.

I see riders all day every day. Thousands ride together without incident. The odds are probably in my favor. However, I’m going to pad those odds out as best I can.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

Merely This and Nothing More

A couple rode a Harley Sportster down my street today. Envy struck me hard. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been missing my bike more this winter than I have in the past.

Shadow at Sunset

Get a good look, 'cause it's going to be a while

It could be as simple as I rode more this year. The Wife went back to a full-time job and needs the family grocery getter more often, even on weekends. Or I could be spoiled by the convenience of having it around, and now that winter’s set in I have to adjust plans around transportation and give up a few things, like today’s karate tournament.

Whatever the reasons, Lenore’s locked up for the season and I already miss her.

I’d like to buy cold weather gear and be done with it, but I’m not convinced that’s a good idea with the ice coming and the idiot drivers out there. It’s also a safe bet I can’t afford the decent stuff. As such, I’ve been trying to get my motorcycle fix elsewhere.

For example, today I browsed the bike magazines on the racks at Barnes & Noble. A lot of them are not for me or are boring, but a copy of Street Chopper caught my eye. In the first few pages I saw a pictorial by rider/photographer/blogger Josh Kurpius and decided I had to have it. There are a lot of photos in the magazine in general, many of them the kind of photos I’d like to shoot myself. Time to keep a closer eye out for bike shows and rallies in my area.

I most look forward to visiting the International Motorcycle Show’s Chicago stop in February. A friend and I drove up this year and we had a blast. We’ll be able to check out bikes, maybe pick up some new gear, and if the weather cooperates, we’ll be able to count down to the start of riding season a month or so later. Priority purchases for me this year include rain gear and maybe a new half helmet, with a bike lift close behind.

Yesterday I spent some idle time on YouTube and found this amazing vid:

Unreal. That bike weighs somewhere north of 600 pounds, and he whips it around like a featherweight fiberglass sport bike. I hate to think of how many spills he took before he got it right.

I’m not looking for that kind of skill, though. I just want to get out on the road. I miss the focus.

I miss the warmth, too. Summer riding means it’s also nice enough to sit outside with a cigar. I’ll be missing out on that for the next couple of months as well. People think we’re kidding when the Wife and I talk about moving to Hawai’i, but we’re not so sure. We couldn’t pull it off right now, but the time will come.

Which means I best keep punching out some fiction.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

We’re Still Out There

Moto Photo 1

I thought this would be a good time to remind folks that despite the sudden rush of cool weather in the Midwest, motorcyclists are still out there.

I’ve read about two accidents in the past week, both of which could have been avoided had a car driver been paying attention. The excuse, of course, is “I didn’t see him.” I think the problem is more selective blindness than obstructed view, however; people look for cars, don’t expect to see a motorcycle, so it doesn’t register. Bam. Problem is this could easily be a bicyclist or a pedestrian, which could be even more dangerous.

This is also on the heels of two deaths in Peoria. In the first instance, some asshole in a hurry crossed a painted lane divider on War Drive in Peoria, a spot where he really had no business trying to pull off a pass no matter how clear traffic appeared. He hit a motorcycle coming the other direction and killed the driver.

In the second instance, a drunk smashed into the motorcycle stopped at an intersection, then drove away. The motorcycle driver and the passenger were killed. The memorial items placed at the intersection include a stuffed neon rain jacket with the words “Can you see me now?” printed on the back.

That’s not to say the motorcyclist is always at fault. We heard—and saw the aftermath of—an accident just a few months ago. The idiot rider thought he had a good opportunity to open up the throttle on his crotch rocket, so he ran a red light and raced down Sheridan. Only problem is an old man saw the red light and pulled out of a store parking lot, right in front of the rider. Bam. The guy was fortunate he survived, as he wasn’t wearing a helmet.

The point is keep your eyes open, folks. Don’t just look down a street and think “Any cars?” Look for anything. Motorcycles, bikes, kids on skateboards, a troop of monkeys, whatever. You don’t know what’s around the corner, and if you’re in a hurry, that’s when you miss things.

See you on the road.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

Free At Last

The weather looked sketchy Friday morning, but I decided to chance it and busted Lenore loose. By lunchtime, we had a gorgeous day. I rode her out to a restaurant with some co-workers.

Look who I set loose

Lenore with the dust and cobwebs blown off.

It’s about time. I had the first-ride jitters as I rounded the first corners, wondering if I’d be rusty at all.

Then I opened up the throttle and removed all doubt. Damn it felt good to ride again.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

Riding Season & Religion

The weather around here really went to crap in May. Those of us who ride motorcycles were able to get out early thanks to some warmer weather in April, but most of this month has been dreary, cold, and rainy with the occasional storm. We could have toughed it out (and I spotted a few guys who did), but after being spoiled by the early warmth most of us just sat around and stared out the window.

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…

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.

It's Ridin' Season!

Im back, baby!

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!

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. His Bram Stoker Award-winning first novel, Deadliest of the Species, was just reprinted by Evileye Books.