Bliss Rider

Crazy thing happened as I was leaving school last week. First let me explain that getting in and out of San Diego State can kinda be a nightmare. Not so much if you’re on a motorcycle, but then the nightmare is dealing with obviously stressed cagers (what a fun term for car drivers) and trying to navigate around them as quickly as possible so as not to stress yourself out.

See the key when riding a motorcycle is non stress. It’s simply not allowed. And the key is to keep moving as much as possible. I didn’t realize just how inefficient the stop and go required of normal street driving was until I got a bike and decided that if I didn’t have to stop, I wasn’t gonna. I like to keep my eye on the destination. And not have my fate determined for me by something as silly as traffic.

Luckily I live in a state where lane sharing is allowed, and thank goodness, because it really is a safety issue as far as I am concerned. I lane shared for the first time coming home to east county from Del Mar and if I hadn’t felt even less safe in the traffic I never would have gotten the courage to ride in between the cars. Motorcycles just aren’t built to go 10 feet and stop, 10 feet and stop, 10 feet and stop. Not only that, but being a newer rider I feel 10 times more comfortable at higher speeds than lower ones. Is that strange? I’ll navigate the normal streets all day but give me a tight parking structure, u-turn or parking lot and I fly right outta my comfort zone. I feel like a shark sometimes. I have to keep moving or die. Like all things motorcycle, it gets better everyday and with practice. Which very well might be the key — I just don’t have to ride slow as much, so it’s still an under-developed skill.

So yeah, it was a day like any other as I was leaving the busiest parking lot at State, which just so happens to be the one I always park in because it’s on the side of campus I need. And motorcycle riders get to park even closer to campus than faculty can at State!

There was a line of cars piled up at the stop sign to exit the lot, which I went around as usual. From there the double-laned back-up stretched from Montezuma to the 8 freeway entrance, so I charted my path for directly in between the two lanes.

One gentleman in a pickup truck was at a strange angle, and blocking my nice clear path. He saw me coming and slowly steered his truck to as far right as possible, making some room for me to get past. Meawhile I was paused between the 2 lanes, his truck and a minivan, waiting for the gap to widen.

Traffic begins to move again and the minivan rolls forward and I hear a strange sound and slight sensation at my left foot. It’s the last thing on my mind as now that cars are moving I have to get moving too. Can’t just sit there between 2 lanes of cars.

At the next red light I look down and lo and behold I’m missing my left toe slider!

I can’t believe I came that close to getting my left foot ran over. Lesson learned and I will never stop that close to a running car ever again. The strange part is I really didn’t feel a thing. It must have been the very very edge but still a real eye-opener for me. I didn’t really need to be reminded, but it still emphsized the fact that on the back of a bike I’m so much more vulnerable than most everyone else on the road. The phrase “kill or be killed” obviously doesn’t really work in this example, but on a motorcycle you most definately have to practice your defensive driving skills. Get around, go in between, but above all get out of their way!

San Diego has been getting some real weather lately. I know those of you on the east coast or other countries with more extreme weather patterns will laugh at this statement, but it’s true! I’ve gotten rained on, hailed on, or simply blown about pretty much every day this month, and it’s put an interesting spin on my motorcycle adventures.

You might think that riding any two-wheeled transport in the rain might be cause for distress but surprisingly enough when it’s wet and getting wetter there’s no time to feel sorry for yourself. Rainy weather changes me from an adventurous rider to a rider with a purpose - a grim determination to get to my destination as quickly and safely as possible. A hint of a dark cloud has me singing prayers to the rain gods, whom I’ve grown to love and respect these last few weeks.

A sprinkle makes me grateful for the lack of real showers. Showers have me focused, and grateful to avoid any hail. Hail has me pulled over on the freeway in pure amazement that I am soaked and being pelleted alive. If I’m lucky I don’t have to be anywhere special that day, and I can laugh at Mother Nature’s complete disregard for my plans or dryness. Which is why anything less than a hailstorm now kinda feels like a walk in the park. Yes I get wet, my jeans get stiff and cold, every part of my body shakes and I occasionally bemoan my lack of real rain gear, but mostly I just whisper my thanks, knowing it could always be SO MUCH WORSE (see photo below) and that if she wanted to Mother Nature could sweep me and my minuscule little piece of metal and plastic right off the road anytime she wanted to.

Our consistently rainy weather has mostly just hardened my spirits to know that nothing really MUST keep me from getting to where I need to go. Yes, there is that occasional day where I wake up to rain and simply cannot drag myself out there for the wet roller coaster ride to school. But most mornings I’ve grimly strapped on my gear and headed out, feeling a littler more tough and resilient each day. I feel blessed to be able to ride my bike year-round, to have a safe garage to store my lil Ninja, and the strength of spirit to know that what does not kill me will only make me a better rider.

It’s been almost a month since my last confession…

Oh how time flies when you’re “having fun”!

So much has happened, is happening, will happen soon. School started, so I am officially a daily commuter! Traffic, cold mornings, rain, hail, I’ve seen it all in the last few months.

Not only that but on the 1st of Feb I moved into a GRAND house in the hills with my best friend Jenn and we have been moving/unpacking and roommate-hunting for the last 2 weeks straight. Fun stuff. There have been lows and highs but mostly highs and I *think* we have even found 4 new roommates to share our new home! More on that next week when I know for sure.

Actually, there will have to be more on everything as today is my birthday and I must run. Just wanted to throw out a quick hello to the blogesphere and let you all know that I promise to post more in the coming weeks AND catch up on all your blogs too. Happy Valentine’s Day to all!!

Today was a vulnerable day for me. After weeks of empowering moments, it makes sense that I would have moment of fragility. I didn’t realize that I was still that fragile after all this time (ok, yes I have only been riding for a month and a half, maybe I should take it a bit easier on myself).

So I started out for yoga today (this is the main place I commute to now while I wait for school to start again next week) and pulling out of the driveway I immediately noticed that something wasn’t quite right. The “friction zone” of my bike seemed off. The play between the clutch and throttle was different — or was it just my imagination?

I sailed down the street quickly shifting up to 2nd and 3rd… and each time it felt so strange. What was going on here? Being so new to the game it’s hard to describe exactly what it felt like. The clutch felt loose, I needed to give it more gas and no matter how I tried I couldn’t get it to shift smoothly.

Got stuck at a yellow light and as I waited for it to turn green a couple cars lined up behind me. It was like my first time at a stoplight again - took off awkwardly, jerking off in 1st with my mind racing, trying to figure out what the hell was up. I had just gotten back from a trip to Orange County for work, and it had been quite a few days since I’d ridden. Did I somehow forget how to ride my bike?

Managed to get on the freeway, but shifting got no better and I tried to stay calm under a barrage of thoughts that my bike was either broken or breaking, the clutch was gonna fail, I was gonna get into an accident, and that particular loop merging onto the 15 freeway seemed ominous in light of my mental state and the unpredictability of my bike.

I once drove a car 40 miles with a broken clutch cable, and that was not a fun adventure. Having a similar experience on a motorcycle was 10 times scarier, if only for my fear that I would overcompensate and do sumthing stupid that would lead to serious injury. I just didn’t trust myself to make it to class and then home again. Even worse I felt like I was suddenly in no shape for a physically demanding practice. I pussed out and took the exit that would loop me towards home.

Once I got off the freeway it got even worse, if only psychologically. I didn’t know if there was really anything wrong with my bike or if I was just realllly sucking all of a sudden. Sounds really silly, and looking back I realize that I was being a “girl” and assuming that the issue must be with me. I felt paranoid that my boyfriend would listen to my story, go out to my bike and tell me I was imagining things. Didn’t know what was worse, that or knowing that something WAS wrong.

Somewhere not far from home the stinging in my eyes turned into full-on tears. I learned that it is possible to ride a motorcycle and cry at the same time. I didn’t make any stupid moves, just rode a bit more slowly and carefully, noting that even pulling into my driveway I felt less in control of my bike.

I got inside and threw myself on the bed, visibly upset and he asked me what was wrong, did I crash? Was I ok? I think somethings wrong with my bike I said, embarrassed, still thinking it was probably just my imagination and not liking how weak I felt.

Realization instantly dawned on him and he stood up, shaking his head and telling me that a friend had adjusted my clutch cable while I was out of town. A little voice in my head wanted to laugh, cuz it was really that simple, I wasn’t crazy, and here was the validation I needed. I knew my bike!

But it was obviously just one of those emotional days you just can’t control because I didn’t really stop crying, I just wanted a big hug and for it to be changed back NOW. He did his best to fix it and rolled it into the garage for me as I was done for the day. Talk about not handling change well huh?

I know it’s ok to have a weak day, and perhaps (ok, most likely) I over-reacted and let some of the stress flow in from other areas of my life, but I don’t have any regrets except not turning around sooner and trusting myself to know that something was indeed wrong. Ok, not wrong but different and maybe I should have just adjusted but regardless I’m glad I let myself be afraid because fear is healthy, and I feel stronger for it.

I may not be as tough as I make myself out to be sometimes, so I’d like to dedicate this post to anyone who’s had that feeling of fragility at a less-than-opportune moment. Vulnerability is OK!

It had to happen sooner or later. Impossible to live in Southern California without venturing on the freeway at some point. It got built up to be a bigger deal in my head than it actually was… like most things about riding a motorcycle.

After our Julien trip on the 1st I felt newly empowered. That adventure gave me the confidence I needed to know that I could get up to the high gears and still comfortably slow down in time for a red light when exiting the freeway.

Not only that, but once you get a couple curves under your belt going in a straight line even at high speeds feels like child’s play. Getting more comfortable on the bike every day also allowed me to feel like turning my head to look behind me while moving wasn’t gonna make me lose control of the bike. In contrast, when I was first learning even turning on my blinkers while steering felt like mental overload!

So here’s the funny thing - the day I decided to hop on the freeway and shave 10 min off my commute to yoga, I went to put on my glove liners, and one was missing. I spent the 10 min I was trying to save searching everywhere for the missing glove, to no avail.

Got on my bike, still determined to hit the highway, but my enthusiastic mood was a little bummed now. Odo read 186, yoga was 10 miles away, so there was no need to get gas cuz I usually fill up at 200 (there’s no fuel gauge on my bike).

Wouldn’t you know, first time ever on the freeway for “real-real” and my worst nightmare happens - I run out of gas. Of course I was in the middle of the freeway when I felt the bike start to lose power, but I was able to get over two lanes and stop on the side of the road. I had never in my life ran out of gas before, two wheels or four.

The amazing thing was how matter of fact I was about it. I’m really proud of how calmly and quickly I reacted. Spent more than a few minutes just sitting there laughing at myself. Apparently my over-eager riding style over the last few days had used up more gas than usual. And what a coincidence that I left the house cranky and wound up “stranded” on the side of the road with no choice but to see the humor in the situation.

Got the fuel switched over to reserve, had to go North instead of South cuz of my new position on the freeway, and long story short after my glove search and gas scare my 20 min ride to yoga ended up taking 40. But I still got to class before practice started!

The moral of the story - well there’s a couple actually:

• Don’t sweat the small stuff (i.e. $20 glove liners)
• Even if you ARE gonna sweat it - sweat it out and get over it - don’t carry it with you
• Don’t ride a motorcycle upset - especially at yourself!
• If your intuition says “get gas” you should probably get gas

Last but definitely not least:

• Laugh at yourself whenever possible!!!

I was browsing meetup.com the other day and decided to join a couple sportbike groups, including the North County Female Sportbikers and the San Diego Sportbike Meetup Group. They go on lots of group rides, which got me to thinking that even though my solo rides through the College streets were empowering, I needed some practice going on a REAL ride.

Although the winter temps here in San Diego have regularly been in the low 40’s, I decided to risk it and take an afternoon trip out to Julian to experience what the 67 freeway felt like from the back of a motorcycle. Oh boy!

Santa must have known what I had in store cuz he brought me two winter riding essentials: a neck gaiter and glove warmers. They really saved the day!

We got a later start than I would’ve like, and left San Carlos around 3pm. It was a warmer day, around 60ºF in the sun. Not a bad way to start. I got to ride in the middle, with Sasha’s GSX-R600 in the front, and Mikey’s GSX-R1000 in the back. It was a Ninja sandwich!

It’s funny to think of it now, but right when we got to the part of the 67 where it stopped being a freeway and turned into a 2-lane street, I saw a sign saying the speed limit was 55mph and got a lil nervous that I wouldn’t be able to maintain the speed without traffic piling up behind me and people getting pissed. No worries! The ride started out friendly and straight-forward, allowing me to get used to the prolonged speed and the need to cycle through 4th and 5th gear depending on whether we were going uphill or not. We all gave each other plenty of room, and by the time we got through Ramona I was feeling really comfortable with the pace and speed. That’s when the fun began!

There’s really no way to explain the feeling you get when you start playing with physics on the back of a motorcycle. A curve comes up in front of you and you can’t see what’s on the other side, but you can see the bike in front of you which shows you there’s no need to slow down so you don’t. You just take an outside line to give yourself room, roll onto the throttle while leaning into the direction of the turn and like some kind of magical being you feel yourself float through the curve almost like you weren’t even touching the ground. Does it make any sense to say I felt more like I was sliding then turning? Slide right, slide left….

OMG it was so much fun! I could say something cheesy like I became one with my bike that day, but it was better than that because when all you can think about is the turn in front of you requiring every bit of your concentration, the motorcycle kinda ceases to exist. It just becomes a means to an end. An awesome, vibrating, churning piece of metal that if it wanted to could pitch you off and end your life but instead responds to your every movement and floats you through a bend in the road as if you had wings. Feeling yourself go sideways on a bike instead of forward is such an amazing feeling.

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The 67 turned into the 78 and we made it to Julian with only a few really chilly moments. Mostly when the sun dipped behind a mountain peak as we rode between valleys. The worst - riding past the egg farm in Ramona. The smell as you got downwind was pretty god-awful disgusting. The buildings they keep the chickens in don’t even have windows! And from a motorcycle everything smells stronger.

So we managed to stay pretty warm getting to Julian. But then we got to the famous pie shop only to find they were closed. Oh yeah, it’s New Years! A nice gentleman in the parking lot told us there was a casino about 6 miles up the street that had pretty good food. We weren’t starving but we did want to get warm somewhere for a bit.

The casino wasn’t just down the street, it was another 600ft up a narrow twisty road carved into the side of a mountain. $2 pints of Fat Tire and $4 cheeseburger combos and we were on our way home.

It had turned into a dark and misty night, and it was cold. Our headlights illuminated the asphalt directly in front of us and that was all we needed to see. Nothing to distract from the yellow lines in front of you, and the entrance and exit of the next turn. Lovely. Cold but so worth it.

Finals came and went but I can’t help but think my hardest test this semester involved 2 wheels and a whole lotta courage. While in the midst of finals cramming I had so many motorcycling “firsts” I want to write about. I think it’s important to chronicle these while I can still count the number of solo rides I’ve had on one hand.

So my biggest first? You guessed it - my first solo ride! I’m gonna guess and say it was about a week ago now, but it’s still really clear in my head because it was such a huge deal for me. Going from MSF to my own bike was a big deal. Learning how to ride on the streets, with street lights and cars and people and 8 million kinds of stimuli and thoughts going through my mind was a big deal.

Making the night ride to the 24-hour coffee shop about 10 miles from my house all by myself was a HUGE deal. As a beginner I kinda prefer riding at night as there’s a lot less traffic on the streets. I rode my bike for the first time at night and felt totally at ease in the dark empty streets…. and then got in an accident a few days later during an afternoon 4-way-stop incident, so I’m sure you can see the connection.

So riding down to Lestat’s that night I was scared and proud and determined all at the same time. The first couple miles were interesting…. it was cold and windy that night and going down the road in the 50mph zone I had to keep reminding myself that the wind couldn’t possibly blow me off my bike. But it sure felt like it could.

It was right around the uphill part of College heading towards Montezuma that I finally started to feel like I was RIDING my motorcycle. There was another lane merging into mine and out of pure fear of being merged into I gunned the throttle in 3rd gear and started flying up that hill. Go Ninja go! It was nice to know there was speed there when I needed it, that I could control it and better yet slow down safely afterwards. I wasn’t scared so much after that.

For the rest of the night though, my main problem was more going too slow for the cars around me. But I didn’t mind being passed by following the speed limit. I just concentrated on stopping, starting, shifting, and of course turning. And enjoying the freedom of being out there on my own! Of finally doing it and overcoming my fear. It was so exciting I barely felt the cold…

That day and every day since then I’ve still had those little uh-oh moments. You know, like uh-oh cuz you feel the bike wobble underneath you when trying to make a slow-speed maneuver, or when down-shifting too quickly. The key though, and the thing that makes me feel so damn proud everyday is that I manage to keep my cool, straighten back up, regain control after that split-second of fear and keep going.

Sounds cheesy, but when riding a motorcycle on a long quiet street you start feeling reflective… and maybe even a tad philospohical. The difference between me and the old Keryna is that from now on I’m gonna push through those uh-oh moments, keep the wheels straight, and when the moment calls for it — gun the throttle and fly up those hills!

So it’s finals week and I was smart enough to start this blog right BEFORE things got really crazy at school. It’ll be a few more days before I can really dive into making this blog what I envision it to be. Meanwhile I leave you with some inspiration….

Although I am still quite a ways from “outgrowing” my Ninja, I still keep an eye out for future bikes. Look at this awesome deal some guy from socalsvriders.org scored: a 2004 Honda CBR600RR with only 4450 miles on it …. for only $3,300!!

These bikes retail for around $9,000 new.

Go zebra stripes! I have decided that white bikes are just as awesome as blue bikes. Maybe even a little awesomer. Looks like I’m a step ahead of myself in buying all black and white gear.

As of yesterday I am officially a licensed motorcyclist. Please hold the applause.

There were quite a few obstacles I had to overcome to get to this point, including nearly breaking my foot the second time ever on my bike; 3 weeks of crutches; missing my scheduled MSF track date and being put on stand-by; waking up at 5am (or earlier) three weekends in a row and still not getting in; and last but not least CAMPING OUT in front of the MSF course at 3:30 in the morning so as to assure I was first in line — and I was!

In this blog I will be exploring the joy, wonder, and excitement of learning how to ride a motorcycle, and well as the trials and tribulations I experience as a new rider. Topics might include:

• Getting licensed

• Finding gear

• Learning to ride

• Commuting

• Bike Maintenance

and of course…..

• Becoming UBER

Stay tuned for more awesomeness….