Practice makes Petrified -or- Freaking out the Parents
Freeways are scary.
I’ve been making it a point to practice a lot on the bike. I figure there’s no time like the present to develop my skills. So I’ve been picking less-populated times and places to ride where I’ll have to corner or change lanes or stop on a hill or whatever. I ride through the Presidio on the way to work each day, which forces me to trust that the bike can lean that far over and that yes, really, if I’m worried about taking the corner too fast, I should roll on the throttle, not off.
Starting from a stop on a hill on a motorcycle is actually a lot easier than it is in a car. Foot on the rear brake to keep from rolling back, roll on the throttle and release the clutch gently through the friction zone. No problem.
Tonight I took the bike around Stow Lake to corner, and then ended up going south on 19th Avenue. It was pretty late, so I just kept going and rode I-280 south a ways.
Here’s the thing about speed. Accelerating up to 40mph is fun, OK? Especially when I mistime my shifting from first to second and end up jumping forward hard. That’s a thrill because, well, speed and acceleration == Big Fun. Bonus points for surprising myself by getting a little bit more kick by accident (e.g. mistiming my shifting).
But there’s a threshold after 45mph or so after which my mind no longer processes the speed by the visual. I’ve driven those speeds before, so it’s nothing new or exciting, and a 250cc engine (literally a half pint!) isn’t exactly gonna give me a kick of acceleration at highway speeds either. There’s not a huge thrill associated with traveling at 65 or 70mph. I might have even gotten it up to 75 tonight.
No, what’s intense about those kinds of speeds is the wind. Every time I’ve driven 75mph before I’ve had a windshield in front of me. On the bike, I have the face shield of the helmet, but the air hits my body at whatever speed I’m traveling. Riding 75mph is, no joke, like holding on to stationary handlebars in a class 1 hurricane. That’s enough air velocity to break branches and tear small boats away from their docks.
What’s really scary about highway speeds is how much turning my head affects my aerodynamics. It’s enough to push me to the side. Without turning my head, I have a potentially fatal blind spot on either side, even with convex mirrors. In the short time I’ve been riding, I’ve already been surprised to find an automobile next to me and slightly behind, just out of sight of my mirrors, more than a couple times. If I didn’t turn my head to look before changing lanes, I’d have already been creamed.
So I rode South as far as I could stand it, which was the Westborough Ave exit in San Bruno. I took Hillside across to South San Francisco and then rode 101 North, which was its own flavor of terrifying.
I can see why people pick bigger bikes, and not just to go faster, but to have that inertia on one’s side in the face of air. I can also see why people choose bikes with fairings, and crouched-over sportbike positions. Or ahem even a windshield. My bike looks cool (in my own opinion, of course) but it cuts through the wind like a falling oak leaf.
(Sorry, Dad. I know you worry. Hopefully you’ll read this and hear how careful I’m being, and how conscious I am of the danger, not that I’m jumping into harm’s way.)