kreinke
10-05-2006, 11:26 AM
One of the things that I enjoy about motorcycling is "The Brotherhood". We all know what it is. It's not some gang but rather the collective of all of us because we choose to ride.
We all smell the same diesel smoke, freshly cut alfalfa, and ozone right before a rain. These are all things the cagers are missing out on.
We pretty much stop and offer roadside assistance no matter what we ride. We sometimes hang out together. The internet has given us a way to enjoy others rides and experiences even though we can't ride with them.
Most importantly, we're always offering our our "brothers" [and sisters] safety advice and compassion in case something happens. I found this out when my wife had her crack up in 2005 when she got cards from people she didn't even know.
I guess I haven't told you anything you didn't already know so I'll cut to why I'm writing these thoughts down in the first place.
Three weeks ago I got pulled over for speeding.
I know sometimes we view this as a rite of passage and perhaps even funny. Anyone who has ridden with me knows I like riding "North of 60" just as much as any motorcyclist.
But there's something else.
What has been sticking in my craw was my state of mind when I got pulled over. You see, my older son is having trouble with school and has generally been having a hard time (he's gifted/talented and being diagnosed with an autism disorder) . This was the third day is 2 weeks that I got called to either take him home or come in to calm him down.
This time, dealing with my kid, his principal and counselor not only made me run late for work, It also caused my blood pressure to go sky high.
I got home from school in a fury and started getting ready for work. I had two choices: 1. drive the cage or 2. ride the bike.
I chose the bike.
About two miles from home I saw the blue and red lights and pulled over.
He had me dead-to-rights. 75 in a 55. Problem was when he asked me the obligatory "Do you know how fast you were going?" I couldn't answer.
My mind was in other places. It was pissed at my kid. It was wondering what kind of mistakes I made as a parent to cause what's wrong with him. It was worrying about how long I had to get to work without a tardy. I was frustrated at the world and at the situation. In any case I can most assuredly tell you it wasn't processing anything remotely having to do with operating a motorcycle.
If anything I think that I was taking my frustrations out on it. I probably should have fired up the kid's PW-50 because wringing the **** out of the throttle on that wouldn't break any laws and I'd still feel the same.
Irony often arrives hand-in-hand with stupidity. The officer who pulled me over was the first officer on-scene at my wife's accident. He remembered me, asked how Sandy had recovered, then proceeded to give me a much justified tounge lashing.
"If you're this upset then go back home, call in sick, and relax", he said.
The officer that wrote that ticket probably saved my life that afternoon. If I had made it to work I probably would have easily gotten torques by someone there and unnecessarily chewed their asses and gotten in trouble.
[reader asks]"Is there a moral to this dude's rambling?"
If you ride distracted, hurried, or mad, you are risking yourself and others.
Motorcycling should be a relaxing experience. Immerse your thoughts to the point where you think that you are one with the road and machine and there are no outside distractions. This "zen" is the cornerstone of "the Brother/Sisterhood".
It's why golfers don't constantly wave at each other and we do.
Not being able to totally immerse youself in making that perfect shift, perfect corner, or being intoxicated by the rhythm of the engine is to cheat youself out of the best parts of the sport. It also can be dangerous.
We all smell the same diesel smoke, freshly cut alfalfa, and ozone right before a rain. These are all things the cagers are missing out on.
We pretty much stop and offer roadside assistance no matter what we ride. We sometimes hang out together. The internet has given us a way to enjoy others rides and experiences even though we can't ride with them.
Most importantly, we're always offering our our "brothers" [and sisters] safety advice and compassion in case something happens. I found this out when my wife had her crack up in 2005 when she got cards from people she didn't even know.
I guess I haven't told you anything you didn't already know so I'll cut to why I'm writing these thoughts down in the first place.
Three weeks ago I got pulled over for speeding.
I know sometimes we view this as a rite of passage and perhaps even funny. Anyone who has ridden with me knows I like riding "North of 60" just as much as any motorcyclist.
But there's something else.
What has been sticking in my craw was my state of mind when I got pulled over. You see, my older son is having trouble with school and has generally been having a hard time (he's gifted/talented and being diagnosed with an autism disorder) . This was the third day is 2 weeks that I got called to either take him home or come in to calm him down.
This time, dealing with my kid, his principal and counselor not only made me run late for work, It also caused my blood pressure to go sky high.
I got home from school in a fury and started getting ready for work. I had two choices: 1. drive the cage or 2. ride the bike.
I chose the bike.
About two miles from home I saw the blue and red lights and pulled over.
He had me dead-to-rights. 75 in a 55. Problem was when he asked me the obligatory "Do you know how fast you were going?" I couldn't answer.
My mind was in other places. It was pissed at my kid. It was wondering what kind of mistakes I made as a parent to cause what's wrong with him. It was worrying about how long I had to get to work without a tardy. I was frustrated at the world and at the situation. In any case I can most assuredly tell you it wasn't processing anything remotely having to do with operating a motorcycle.
If anything I think that I was taking my frustrations out on it. I probably should have fired up the kid's PW-50 because wringing the **** out of the throttle on that wouldn't break any laws and I'd still feel the same.
Irony often arrives hand-in-hand with stupidity. The officer who pulled me over was the first officer on-scene at my wife's accident. He remembered me, asked how Sandy had recovered, then proceeded to give me a much justified tounge lashing.
"If you're this upset then go back home, call in sick, and relax", he said.
The officer that wrote that ticket probably saved my life that afternoon. If I had made it to work I probably would have easily gotten torques by someone there and unnecessarily chewed their asses and gotten in trouble.
[reader asks]"Is there a moral to this dude's rambling?"
If you ride distracted, hurried, or mad, you are risking yourself and others.
Motorcycling should be a relaxing experience. Immerse your thoughts to the point where you think that you are one with the road and machine and there are no outside distractions. This "zen" is the cornerstone of "the Brother/Sisterhood".
It's why golfers don't constantly wave at each other and we do.
Not being able to totally immerse youself in making that perfect shift, perfect corner, or being intoxicated by the rhythm of the engine is to cheat youself out of the best parts of the sport. It also can be dangerous.