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.

‘03 Honda Shadow
Originally uploaded by MikeOliveri.

Here she is, the lady who’s already drawn a few envious stares from folks around the neighborhood.

I’m still surprised she’s as clean as she is for being six years old, especially since the folks at the bike shop referred to the previous owner as a kid. There’s a tiny chip in the paint on the tank and a scuff on the top exhaust pipe, but other than that, she’s spotless. I’ll be trying to get those touched up before long.

I already have a few ride invitations, too. A co-worker has an ‘03 Shadow 750 ACE, and we plan to ride down to Peoria’s Burger Barge in the coming weeks. Another friend has an ‘07 Shadow, and he told me about a couple of groups he rides with. I’m sure this bike will be much more comfortable on longer runs and able to keep up with a group, so it may be time to give that a shot.

Eve, meanwhile, has been doing her own flirting from the front yard. A few have stopped to check her out, and there’s been an offer of a trade, but nobody’s decided to snap her up yet. The surprising thing is my insurance rates actually go down with a second bike instead of up, so I won’t be heartbroken if I have to hang on to her a bit longer.

Boy was that a mistake. Because it was terrifying? Nah. It’s because now I want a bigger bike.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my bike. However, strong winds blow me around more than I’d like, and the narrow tank leads to sore hips and inner thighs on extended rides. My bike’s comfortable up to about 40-45 miles per hour, but I hit 55 and she starts to feel a little shaky. It’s not so much a feeling like I’m going to fall over, it’s more like Scotty’s in the tank screaming “I cannae hold her together, Captain!” and the not-so-warp drive is going to fly apart.

The Shadow was a whole new experience. I felt like I was sitting on something of substance, and the wider tank and higher seat made for a comfortable fit. There was no choke to play with on startup, and her throaty growl had a very different voice from my Virago. I had to lean her a little harder to keep the tighter turns, but she felt a lot steadier despite the heavier weight. I didn’t get her much over 40mph, but when I did I hardly noticed it. (I probably should have taken her out on a back road and opened her up, but I get real nervous driving other folks’ cars, much less their motorcycles.)

That said, the differences in the controls also surprised me. The brakes weren’t as touchy, and the foot shifter had a more tangible click between gears and across neutral. The biggest difference was in the clutch lever. On the Virago, I let it out most of the way before first gear engages and the bike starts rolling. On the Shadow, I hardly had to let up at all. There aren’t many things more embarrassing than killing an engine twice at a stop sign with two guys watching from a nearby yard. Fortunately the engine kicked in and drowned out their witty remarks as I rolled off, thus sparing my pride a bit.

All in all, I decided I definitely need to get into the 650-850cc range for my next motorcycle. It’s a lot more comfortable, and probably better suited to my frame. Now to see about selling some more books to pay for my engine lust…

The Rugrats Ride
Originally uploaded by MikeOliveri.

This right here is exactly why I always where a helmet.

I know people who feel helmets interfere with their vision and hearing, so they feel they’re safer without a helmet because they’ll have a better chance to avoid an accident. I also know people who think a helmet will save their life but leave them a vegetable, and they’d rather die than have that happen.

That’s fine. I don’t have a problem with that. I don’t feel helmets should be legislated, but I’ll always wear one.

First of all, I feel it’s my responsibility to do so for my family. I think there are more cases of helmets saving lives and preventing (or at least limiting) head injuries than there are instances of riders left in comas. It’s like the seatbelt argument: sure, there are instances where seatbelts have done more harm than good, but they’re in the minority.

If I’m going to take up something like riding, I need to be as safe as possible for the sake of my family.

The second reason is a name: Ben Roethlisberger. Remember his motorcycle accident? It was a low-speed crash and probably not life-threatening. However, he wasn’t wearing a helmet, and his head went through a windshield. Welcome to the world of reconstructive surgery. I’m not a rich starting quarterback, so I doubt I’d have been able to afford all the surgery and to be arguing with insurance companies over what gets paid for and what doesn’t.

Given I’m more likely to get hit in town at low speed, I’ll stick with the helmet and protect my ugly mug as best I can.

See you on the road.

Okay, in all seriousness, I’m finally putting in some real seat time after several weeks of storms, rain, trips, and projects, and my comfort level is growing fast. In fact, today I felt more eager than nervous when I fired her up, and that 40mph jaunt, though brief, was not as terrifying as I anticipated.

That’s right, I said terrifying. It’s tough to shake the idea that I’m straddling an engine and someone stole a couple of my wheels. Granted a Virago’s engine is about as small as they come, but sitting on top of even 21 horses is a very different feeling from strapping into a cozy chair with a sturdy firewall and floor separating me from the engine and all the spinny bits. It’s also a lot of fun, but like my father-in-law told me, you’ve got to respect it or it’ll turn on you.

Because tempting fate by pushing new heights of speed wasn’t enough, I took her out into some heavier traffic today, too. This was another exercise in channeling fear as I made sure I had plenty of time to get moving. My bike will still accelerate better than a lot of cars, but I also have to keep in mind my shifting ability (or lack thereof). Missing a the gear with a semi bearing down on me wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?

Then came the hat trick: I also marked the farthest distance ridden yet. Okay, so it was only a mile from home, but I’ve zipped around quite a bit within that range. It’s all about seat time for the moment, and my comfort level grows with every turn. Just like when I’m learning a new kata in karate class, I’m building up my proprioception, or muscle memory. Pretty soon shifts and turns will be automatic, just as they are in a car.

That mile distance took me to the local gas station. The tank was looking a bit empty, so I decided it was about time I topped her off. I didn’t look at the pump meter until she was full. The total?

$3.95!

I rounded her to four bucks even, just shy of a gallon of gas. If the previous owner had reset the tachometer with the last fill-up, I’ll easily see 50 miles per gallon out of this bike, probably more.

I can definitely get comfortable with numbers like that.

Daddy’s Little Biker Girl
Originally uploaded by MikeOliveri.

Okay, maybe not quite that easy, but what little I do know about riding a motorcycle did come back to me.

The sun finally showed its shiny face this afternoon, so after a sausage and a burger off the grill I felt the urge to take Eve for a spin. I sat down and went over the controls one more time as I let her warm up, then spent a few more minutes getting a feel for the clutch, rolling off in first gear, and finding neutral.

The Wife watched me roll to the end of the driveway and back up in neutral several times, then asked “Are you actually going to go anywhere? Just take off, already!”

Yeah, time to suck it up. I put on the helmet and riding gloves, checked for traffic, and rolled off. I hit second and rode down to the end of the street, then turned around. A familiar-looking red van came in off the T intersection and followed me back to my house. I pulled over to let them pass, only to find it was one of my poker buddies as he stopped next to me.

“You’re going to kill yourself, Mike!”

Thanks for the support, Pat! We chatted a few minutes, and I assured him I’d be alive to take his money at the next poker game. After he took off, I did a few more circuits up and down the street and around the corner.

I twitched the throttle once, but other than that I did fine. I cornered without having to think about it, and I felt comfortable hitting 25mph. I didn’t stray far, but I only had a few minutes to kill and I just wanted to get a feel for the bike anyway.

I’d say I accomplished that much. As my father-in-law reminded me, if I respect the bike I’ll do just fine. If the weather holds up I’ll do some more zipping around this weekend.

Eve
Originally uploaded by MikeOliveri.
Let the mid-life crisis jokes commence: I bought a bike.

She’s a 1995 Yamaha Virago, a small cruiser with a 250cc engine. I’ve dubbed her Eve after learning what virago meant. Her previous owner took wonderful care of her and she’s got less than 3000 miles on her. Not a bad find at all.

Now to review my Motorcycle Safety Foundation materials one more time before taking her for a spin. Incidentally, if you’re thinking about learning to ride, I strongly recommend the MSF courses. They teach you a lot more than “here’s the gas, here’s the clutch, enjoy,” and in Illinois it’s a steal at only $20.

The out-of-control gas prices are what made me think about bikes in the first place, and it’s become a stronger argument this summer as prices continue to creep upward. According to this chart, I should expect to get about 50 miles per gallon on a Shadow, which will make trips to our second campus at work or to things like karate class a lot cheaper than if I were to take the family van at 20-22 miles per gallon. It also lets me leave the van with the wife and kids should they need it, without the extra expense of a car as the second vehicle.

There’s still a nagging fear in the back of my head, though. I only learned to ride last year, and while the course put me at ease about my own riding, there’s always that concern about some pinhead pulling out in front of me or merging into me in traffic. On top of that, I have yet to get seat time on anything more than a parking lot course. My father-in-law offered to let me take his GoldWing for a spin, but I can hardly even get my stubby legs over the seat, much less get them to touch the ground while I’m on it. A co-worker offered to let me ride his Shadow ACE, but if I dumped it I’d feel horrible so I took a pass.

On the other hand, I know riders who have been on their bikes over 30 years without incident. What’s more, statistics show that the overwhelming majority of riders (better than 90% if I remember right) of motorcycle accidents involve riders who are self-taught and/or who are riding under the influence of drugs or alcohol. Just taking that $20 course put me ahead of most riders on the road before I even get on the bike.

I’m also told that fear is good for the rider. You stay more alert, more aware of your surroundings. When you’re expecting that pinhead to merge into you, you’re reacting before he even starts to move. It’s when you get tired or careless that you start to have a problem.

This morning it occurred to me I felt the same way when I first took driver’s ed in high school. I remember standing out front, watching people pick up their kids or watching other students pick up their friends, and being amazed at how easy they made it look. I used to wonder if I’d ever be that comfortable behind the wheel, even if I’d ever be as good at driving as they seemed to be. A year later, the car was just an extension of my body. I picked up my brother and one of his friends after practice one afternoon, and I realized I was doing the same thing as the people I had been watching. Driving really is easy, and I was as good as those other people.

I’ve been watching motorcyclists with the same awe. They’ve been out in droves with the warmer weather, and they cruise along just like the cars around them. It’s all about experience, and you’ve got to start somewhere. The good news is we have miles and miles of open road out here in the boonies, unlike the crowded suburban streets I learned to drive a car on.

I’d always wanted to learn to ride a motorcycle, and I’ve accomplished that much. Now it’s time to give some serious thought to taking it to the next level. What better time than spring?