February 1999
|
Roosting
in a
by Gary Charpentier |
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Those
of you who follow this column will note that I was M.I.A. in
the last two issues. Without getting into details, let's
just say that life threw a few curves at me, and I was fully
occupied in dealing with them, so it was impossible for me
to come up with the good words necessary to maintain the
uninterrupted flow of adventure and mayhem you would
normally expect on my page. Normally, winter
finds our motorcycles safely tucked away in garages, heated
storage, or in some cases stored under a tarp in the back
alley. My faithful Ducati 900SS, "Gogo", is stored in a nice
warm garage right now, but it is not my garage. Gogo is no
longer my bike. I had to make a tough decision as the
temperatures dropped this year, and I sold her to a friend.
My new mount is a 1989 Honda NX 650. I decided that I
wouldn't allow the harsh environment of Minnesota to
determine the length of my riding season this year. I have
ridden nearly every day that the temperature has remained
above zero, and while it is not always fun, it provides me
with a challenge every morning that demands concentration,
courage, and a certain amount of craziness. This suits me
just fine. Before I go any
further, let me add this disclaimer: Unless you are an
expert rider, do not try this at home. I have "gone down"
three times already this winter, always on black ice, and
always at speeds under 30 mph. I can't tell who is fairing
better, myself or the bike. At least I have not had any of
my ancillary parts break and fall off...yet. But I have
suffered bruises and road rash, and if not for my helmet,
may well have been killed. In the process, I have learned
many lessons, which I will now share with you, free of
charge. Lesson One: Always
be aware of your center of gravity. This seems like simple
advice, learned in the very first days of riding experience.
But on snow and ice, it takes on new significance. Turns are
taken at very slow speed, almost totally upright, with a
foot clad in a sturdy boot as a ready outrigger. When I
began this adventure, I had visions of sliding sideways
through curves, flattrack style, and spinning the rear tire,
throwing up roost in the faces of stunned cage drivers. This
works just fine on dirt, and sometimes in fresh snow if the
temperature and consistency are just right. More often than
not, however, the front tire gives up traction right along
with the rear and leaves me sliding after the bike on my ass
into the nearest snowdrift. Rather humiliating, at best, and
kind of dangerous when the car following closely behind you
has to deal with the same dubious traction. Lesson Two: Dress
in layers. When you get dressed indoors, and you think you
are going to sweat to death with what you already have on,
add another layer. At 60+ mph on the freeway, the wind chill
gets into the deadly range, and finds any nook or cranny you
have left exposed really quickly. There are all sorts of
high dollar suits out there, some of them even have electric
heating, and if you can afford them I am sure they are well
worth it. I myself depend on good old cowhide, thermal
underwear, fleece sweatshirts, sweaters, wool socks, and the
all important balaclava for that space between the helmet
and jacket that the less muscle-bound amongst us call the
"neck". A good pair of gauntlet-style snowmobile gloves is
also a must. There is another item of snowmobile gear that
comes in handy, it is a little nose-and-mouth shield that
attaches with velcro to the inside of your helmet, kind of
like a fighter-pilot's oxygen mask, that keeps your face
shield from fogging up. I have ridden over a thousand miles
in below freezing temperatures, and with this list of gear,
cold has been the least of my problems. Lesson Three: You
WILL crash. Unless you are using a sidekick, or some other
more-than-two-wheel contraption, the ice will get you.
Especially during your first Winter riding season. So buy a
few extra clutch and brake levers, turn signal lenses,
mirrors and anything else that sticks out from the basic
structure of your chosen Ice-Cycle. That brings up an
important point; ride a bike that you are okay with
crashing. Spare parts must be relatively inexpensive. A
dual-sport is ideal, because in my opinion knobby tires are
the only way to go. There is also less body work to damage.
I don't have a windscreen on mine, but I can see where one
would come in handy. But there again, you have to think
about crash damage. My NX has brush-busters covering the
hand grips and levers, and they have saved the levers from
breakage in all three crashes. I think the bottom line with
a winter bike is to give careful thought to what will be
damaged in a crash, and then look at your options for
preventing or limiting that damage. And finally,
Lesson Four: Learn to accept the fact that everybody else
thinks you are insane! I can't count the times my friends
and coworkers have called me crazy, insane, even stupid.
Some even go so far as to accuse me of having a
"death-wish". Well...whatever. I simply wanted to face a
challenge few others would undertake, and maybe learn
something from the experience. The nine to five routine,
getting up every morning, knowing almost exactly what is
going to happen during the course of your day, then coming
home and watching the same old programs on TV or doing the
same chores or what have you...now THAT is insanity! What is
the point? You may be successfully existing, but you are not
living. To do something that has the very real potential of
ending your life makes you appreciate every moment you are
alive. You have to have your wits about you. You must be
aware! Every square foot of pavement has very real
significance. Instead of guiding two tons of steel along
while your mind is on that next deal, or composing your
grocery list, or talking on your cell phone, you are riding
that motorbike, constantly scanning for hazards, all senses
working at peak efficiency--who needs caffeine? And do you
want to know the best part? You are doing all this while
still at or below the legal speed limit! No, it's not all
about terror and misery. Why do it if it were? There are
some really good things about winter riding. For instance,
if you ever get stuck, you can just lift the back tire out
of the rut and try again. If you get stranded by the side of
the road, you are already dressed for the worst the elements
can dish out, so you probably won't freeze to death. Some
days, winter can actually be beautiful, and on a bike you
always enjoy the scenery more than you would from inside a
car. You get to add another dimension to your riding skills.
You get to enjoy the shocked looks on the faces of pretty
much everyone else on the road. Occasionally, you even get a
nod or wave from somebody who "gets it". You get the pride
of having mastered another difficult challenge. So, should you try
this? Probably not. Not if you have an image to maintain.
Not if you have a family who depends on you to stay healthy
and keep bringing home the 90% fat-free bacon. Certainly not
if you are an inexperienced, casual rider. But if you are
stuck in Minnesota, and go nuts every Winter when you have
to put your bike away; if you are sick and tired of the
drudgery and routine of everyday life, and if you feel that
you have been there and done that and there are no more
unexplored frontiers; if you need to do something that will
set you apart from the herd, and most of the people you know
already think you are crazy anyway, then maybe winter riding
is for you. But if you see me out there, and there is ice on
the roads, don't expect me to wave, okay? M.M.M.
* This article originally
appeared in the February 1999 issue of Minnesota Motorcycle
Monthly.
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