The Two-wheeled historian visits Iowa's UGRR

While still fussing with the Nicodemus and Topeka, KS post, other road trips have come and gone. As part of my ongoing Underground Railroad project, I headed out on Sunday morn, September 20th, for southern Iowa.

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I had huge riding plans for the weekend but everything changed when I lost my wallet Friday night and discovered it missing as I was packing at 3:30a.m. for my trip. The restaurant, where I knew I left it didn't open until noon! They didn't even have an answering machine set up. I started calling at 6a.m. and by 9a.m I still couldn't get through. What business doesn't have an answering machine?! I called throughout the morning, hoping someone would pick up. No one picked up until noon! The wallet was there and a dear friend (thanks, Cindy) retrieved it for me as I dared not ride the bike without having my driver's license. That would be the day I'm stopped for some reason. Isn't there an old Blues song that goes..."if is wasn't for bad luck I wouldn't have any luck at all." By the time I got my hands on my wallet, with all cards and money intact, it was way too late and I was way too stressed to begin a trip. Missed another gorgeous day.

Sunday, I was ready to leave at 5 a.m. In one direction the weather gurus predicted a 20% chance of rain; in the other, 40%. I took the road statistically less rainy--southern Iowa. The two sites there that I wanted to visit didn't open until 1pm, which is late for my taste. First stop, Salem, IA, a once all Quaker town in the 1830s, and onto the Keosauqua, IA. Like Ohio, Iowa had a large number of UGRR (Underground Railroad) stations given the Quaker presence there. Unlike, Ohio, most of Iowa's are now gone, some through fire or deliberate demolition after falling into disrepair.

In Salem, stands the Henderson Lewelling House on Main Street, just a stones throw from the old Quaker cemetery down the road. I like getting to the place I want to explore, so I took the Interstate, knowing that some pretty nice county roads awaited me, which are always a treat. I like too old two lanes highways. The only thing I don't like is too often there are too few places to pull off for a photo op. Fortunately, many of these roads have very little traffic so it's not impossible to get a picture of a beautiful old barn or grazing cows and horses. I was in a riderly mood and didn't plan to stop much. I would have been fun to have Dave's GS on this trip as it would have better handled all the gravel encountered on this trip. I recall a U-turn I executed and a slight wiggle of the back tire on gravel--oops!

Temps in the 70s, the weather was ideal until I got near Galesburg. The sky turned angry and gray and opened. It rained from 1:20 until 2:00p.m--a hard, heavy downpour! So much for taking the road less rainy! After a good soaking, I checked the GPS for the nearest gas station where I headed to find a shelter to don my rain gear. By the time I reached Burlington, IA a blue sky with nary a mean cloud in it welcomed me. I stopped at the Port of Burlington to set the GPS for Salem and poke around a little.

I was doing badly on time but I didn't care. I just needed to ride and if I arrived and the UGRR sites were open, fine; if not, I would at least see the structure. I passed far too many old barns without stopping, which is plenty of reason to return to this area.

Ugh! Time is always an issue. I realized that I was later than I thought! Oh well...I was now on course to arrive in both Salem and Keosauqua after the UGRR stations were closed.

I arrived in Salem, and immediately found Main St. Nicely placed signs lead right to the Henderson Lewelling House. I observed two cars in the gravel lot and one was leaving. According to my watch, the museum should already have been closed for fifteen minutes. But opened back door beckoned me in and after parking the bike, I made a beeline inside.

Once inside, I walked to the front of the house and startled a white-haired old lady who was sitting in a rocking chair going through some old newspaper clippings. She said they were closed but that she would quickly take me through, "since I'm not busy." I signed the book but didn't have two dollars in exact change for the donation. She didn't have change. I dropped a five dollar bill into the jar and told her to keep the extra three (am I a big spender or what?!). When she checked my sign in and saw that I was from Illinois, things changed. "Oh, since you're from Chicago, I'll do a tour for you--that's a long way." And tour she did! We had a most lovely discussion of the Underground Railroad stations in the Midwest. She beamed when she told me she had attended the recent conference in Springfield, IL, which I had so wanted to attend. She picked up some new titles on the subject and shared stories she had heard about various stations throughout the Midwest. She kept interrupting her tales with memories of stories related and unrelated to the UGRR--I was loving each minute!

The Henderson Lewelling House was a safe place for runaway slaves. Lewelling, was a staunch abolitionist and member of the Quakers who believed that they should become actively involved in resisting slavery's evils. It is a myth that all Quakers were anti-slavery to the point of activism. Salem's Quaker activity is a good example of the split that fractured the Quakers in one small town. Quakers shared that slavery was an abomination but some felt strongly that they should obey the law and not get involved in anti-slavery activism. I guess, they were the "let's just pray about it" faction. Another group (thank God!) felt that they had no obligation or responsibility to follow unjust laws and felt it their moral and religious duty to help put an an end to that "peculiar institution" called slavery.

In his travels, Henderson Lewelling never forgot seeing humans shackled and vowed to do what he could to put an end to such human suffering.

Several areas inside his house--all built beneath the floor--provided temporary shelter for escaped slaves. This secret network of transporting fleeing slave to safety was efficient and orderly. Runaway slaves were hidden until they could be carried safely--only at night-- farther north until they reached Canada. Inside the Lewelling house these clandestine places were kept out of sight by throwing a rug over the space and putting a bed or table over the hideaway. Looking down into these dark, small, cramped holes is pretty frightening but I would imagine nothing is as awful as being owned and kept in involuntary servitude where beatings and selling off "stock" were frequent.

(The railing was put in place to protect tourist. The trap door would be closed and covered by a rug and a table placed over the area.)

Lewelling sounded like a real character. He was the father of a big brood. He lived in Salem for years and then moved on to Oregon. He's known for more than his anti-slavery work. He is also acknowledged for almost single handily bringing fruit trees to Salem. He carried many fruit trees on to Oregon too during a particularly difficult journey west and planted them. There he also established a fruit production industry. In fact, Fruitvale, CA is named for Lewelling's fruit production in that area. Today Lewelling is know as the "father of the Pacific fruit industry" and credited with permeating Iowa, Oregon and California with his gift for fruit production. I applaud this too but it is his work as a devout and activist Quaker that captures my heart most.

Salem, Iowa is in a location that benefited its anti-slavery efforts. It is in close proximity to the Mississippi and Des Moines rivers, both providing escape routes for slaves.

The problem is that Salem is close to Missouri, a slave state. My favorite story is when a Missouri slaveholder named Daggs came to Lewelling's door, bring with him a cannon that he placed in Lewelling's front yard, aimed at Lewelling's house! He threatened to use it if Lewelling didn't return his human property. Lewelling didn't scare easily. He claimed not to know what the man was talking about. News travels fast in a small town. Let Rachel Kellum tell the story of the Daggs' slaves and the cannon. I couldn't help think of the terrorist behavior of the Missourians who, as Kellum describes, bogarted their way into people's homes, searching for slaves and threatening to level an entire town. These terrorist acts are repeated throughout every states suspected of helping slaves escape bondage.

The Underground Railroad was an efficient network of people and houses that worked in the dark of night, moving slaves from one safe house to the next until there was no more clear and present danger. Their work was deliberate, methodical and quick. Secrecy was key. To make it work, the cooperation of many people was mandatory--even children were trained to not discuss their parents' nighttime activities.

Slaveholders were suspicious and befuddled. Slaves would flee and all roads seem to lead to Salem. But once there, the slaves seemed to vanish. Word would spread that a slaveholder was in town demanding his property. In one incident, the Salem authorities were summoned and the "owner" was asked for names and descriptions of his property. Eventually, because he was able to identify his "property" he was able to have several of his slaves returned to him but some were not returned. I'm hope they ran away again the first chance they got for they knew that once they crossed the Des Moines or Mississippi river, safe house in Salem would shelter them until they could move "up yonder."

Of the safe houses in Salem, only the Lewelling house still stands. If you are ever within 100 miles of this area, go there. Hear history come alive. Revisit the timea. Feel inspired by the abolitionists, the resisters, and the unsung heroes (and she-roes) that our history books either don't mention or gloss over.

I heard so many stories while at the Lewelling House that I left there riding a cloud. I already knew I wouldn't get to tour the Pearson House in Keosauqua. Still, it was only 25 miles away and the ride would be lovely beneath an azure sky with mash potato clouds. The bright sun had already dried out my wet gear and soaked gloves and my bike, Jesse Owens, purred along.

The ride to Keosauqua did not disappoint. The roads swoop and curve and roll along. Dodge Street in Keosauqua is easy to find, just look for the courthouse. The Franklin Pearson House is a big structure with many windows across the second level. The area around the Pearson House looked rich in history and I wished I had come early enough to hear the activities that transpired at the Pearson house. I took a couple of pictures and headed for home. I was feeling great and thinking I would abandon my plans to stay overnight somewhere nearby. According to the GPS, if I didn't stop, I would arrive home at 11:30pm but I needed to eat and take break soon as I now heard my stomach complain.

I enjoyed the roads for another hour before stopping to eat. I passed through many small towns that were cute and begging to be explored. I would have if I were sleeping over but I was in a ride mood and just wanted to keep going. I definitely felt moved to pause in Fort Madison. I passed by their "rebuilt" fort and wanted to know more about it. The town looked inviting. There were signs announcing the history of this and that--little towns all claiming their place in the regional and national history pages. I've never heard of Bentonsport or Bonaparte, but they both claim a national historic district that I'd like to visit.

Roads of note. Many places along US Hwy 34, 67 and 61, as well as State Hwy 2. Fun! Lots of big swooping curves, hilly with travel along a several state parks, preserves, and wildlife areas.

Both homes are on the National Registry of Historic Places and worth a visit. The Henderson Lewelling House may soon be made a National Historic Site, which is a huge accomplishment.

Sunday mileage: 620 miles

Fun factor 8/10--the rain was a bit much...

Part I: Saddle Sore #2--best so far...

I had wanted this season to end with a Bun Burner, 1500 miles in 36 hours or less. In fact, I had a route tentatively selected that would send me to Minnesota with a brief sleep over and then head back home. That will need to wait for another season.

Friday, Sept. 4 was a day at work I'd rather mention than give power to by talking about it. I will say that it left me needing something to do to obliterate the evil thoughts I had--some of which had I acted upon could land me in prison. Alas, nothing de-stresses me like a long ride.

So, at the last minute, with little planning, I decided to go "West young (wo)man!" My earlier plans to do a quick Saddle Sore (SS) that would coincide with the WIMA (Women's International Motorcycling Association) and AMA Women's Conference in Keystone, CO. I had a conference participant all lined up to sign my finish form (thanks, Marsha) but that didn't happen as I was needed at home during that time. As a backup, I had contacted a forum member who lived in CO, near Denver in the event I later rode in that direction. But until Friday, things looked dim for a westward journey to stretch my ride muscles, which had suffered three consecutive long trips. Then came the agony of Friday.

While trying my best to scrub off Friday, the thought of riding farther west than I've ever traveled before on two wheels popped into my mind again. A quick check of Google maps and I was determined to go. I had enough time to figure out an easy route and pack. But I did pause long enough to ask myself "How can I make this trek different from the first SS, which I think was a good first Iron Butt ride but most things can be improved upon. I recall in SS#1, I felt tired--in a spirited way and a bit wobbly when I dismounted the bike at the end; I recall too a tightness between my shoulders. This SS would be driven by the question, "How can I complete this 1000 miles plus adventure feeling as if I could ride another 500 miles after a 5 hour break?" The answer would tell me if I were prepared for the coveted Bun Burner.

Here are my little secrets that I feel helped make SS#2 an easier undertaking than the first SS.

Food--ya gotta eat!

Before retiring for the evening, I packed my food. On the first attempt I only packed a few snacks, thinking that stopping for food would be a good excuse to relax and get off the bike. But buying food is not only a time robber, it is expensive and the choices typically are dismal--unless you're a junk foodie, which I'm not.

I packed oranges, bananas, GORP (granola, oats, raisins and peanuts), cheese 'n crackers, water, Kashi and Odwalla bars. Keeping the blood sugar level normal is critical. A drop for me can mean light-headedness and foggy thinking. By the time I feel it, it's too late. And it difficult to recuperate from quickly. Thus, it's best to never let it drop below normal. On the other hand, one doesn't want to load up with sugars either; extreme highs or lows can wreck havoc (no pun intended). This brings me to drinking.

I usually prefer water to stay hydrated. Especially, in hot weather. But water is only one part of keeping hydrated. In hot weather, it is definitely important to have drinks that offer a bit more. But beware of those sugary drinks--some of them are loaded with both simple and complex sugars. I prefer good old, no sugar added OJ, grape or apple juice. I also recommend taking two water bottles to dilute even these juices if you've been drinking them all day. This may sound like a lot but it really isn't. For me, too much undiluted OJ and I'll need to spend time flushing--if you get my drift.

While it may be best to sip from a CamelPak throughout a SS, this doesn't work for me because of my fussy, microscopic size bladder. On other rides, where time is not an issue, the CamelPak can't be beat. To manage my liquid intake on the Saddle Sore, I consumed water at almost every stop. But on other stops, I ate liquid-heavy fruit like kiwi, grapes and oranges. This is an excellent way to get more liquids in but at the same time, slow down the absorption rate of the liquids. It helped me stretch the bathroom breaks. This method of balancing the water with water-heavy fruits helped me stick to my "stop" strategy.

On SS#1 I stopped for lunch in a crowded fast food joint. I vowed never to stand in line again for an order of fries and a drink--not worth it. I avoided this on SS#2. My stop for lunch was a pleasant respite where I consumed my own food. It was relaxing, quiet and refreshing--and it required far less time too. Eat light is my recommendation. Riding with a load in the belly can't be comfortable.

Stops--you just have to do it and the more, the merrier

In Saddle Sore#1, I started off planning to stop at regular points. The reality is I didn't always do this. If I didn't feel the need to stop, I didn't. In hindsight, I believe this had a cumulative effect for the ride's end. After 700ish miles, I was beginning to feel some physical tension that I pretty much ignored. On this, the SS#2, I vowed to stop every 90-127 minutes regardless of a felt need to do so--even if the stop only was to dismount from the bike and walk around it, get back on and go, I would stop without fail. I confess, in the early riding stages this became annoying, really annoying... but I stuck to it. At times I stopped right at 90 minutes; other times, I stopped nearer the 127 minutes mark. I learned that even five minutes off the bike can do wonders for the body, such as shaking out the limbs and letting the blood flow therein. Straightening and bending one's aging back after being positioned on a sport tourer is a welcome relief and your back will appreciate it. Stopping is a great time to stretch the muscles, flex the ankles, rotate the wrists, and hold an exaggerated curve in the spine for a few seconds.

These stops do not necessarily coordinate with stops for fuel. That's fine. I don't believe one can stretch too much--but I'd imagine if one isn't accustomed to stretching, something might pop--so be careful if stretching is new to you. I know that my back is an issue even when I'm not riding. So, I took extra care this time not to allow too much discomfort to settle there. Another point, stretching while riding is something I also encourage. For example, scanning from side to side was not just for watching for deer or other critters and bad drivers. It was also a great way to keep my neck loose. I always make full head turns when changing lanes. I moved my head a lot. I'd get the chin part of my helmet aligned with my shoulder. In fact, I did a series of head turns and neck rolls. Recommended only when road/ride conditions allow.

During stops and while riding, I routinely did body checks. I used to be prone to leg cramps. On my SV650, I typically had cramps after 300 or 400 miles. Some were so painful and paralyzing that I'd have to stop, message my legs and wait until the discomfort subsided. The ST doesn't have as tight a tuck of the legs as the SV, which is one reason the SV doesn't make as great a long distance tourer as the ST. Low potassium may also be a culprit in leg cramps so I've added more than a few bananas to my diet. Bananas don't travel well, but fortunately, they are easy to buy on the road.

I believe regular stopping precluded muscle tightness, leg cramps, and any of the tensions I felt creep in on the first Saddle Sore. In retrospect, I can see how in SS#2 I was far better at managing my physicality over the 1000+ miles. In other words, I was able to spread out my energy better. I think I gutted out the SS#1 and had to dig deeper at the end, which didn't detract from the joy and fun I had on SS#1. However, in SS#2 it was even-steven the whole way. The only "push" I encountered on SS#2 were mental (more on that later).

Darkness--Unavoidable on a SS

Unless you do your SS in Alaska, some stretch of your SS will occur in the dark. I don't mind night riding and I accept the extra risk involved. My bike is equipped with lights that hopefully make me more visible. I've added Martin Fabrication lights, which Steve at Motoworks fixed for me (thanks Steve!) and I also now have hyper lights and a 3 in 1 LED license plate that does all sorts of flashing and pulsating when brakes are applied. My Martins light up the sides of the road amazingly well. While there's no guarantee this heightened illumination will save me, these extras give me some peace of mind knowing that I've done my best to be most conspicuous.

My thoughts on the night riding portion of the SS is to try to always do the dark parts on familiar ground. In my first Saddle Sore this worked. I did an out and back route. I left in the dark, so I traveled roads I know well. My return was on those same roads. Even when a tad tired, I knew every curve, every dip in the road and which lane to avoid because of that huge gouge in the left part of the lane. Had I left on SS#2 at the time I had planned, I would have left in the dark and arrived in CO just before blackness. Well, this didn't happen. I did leave in the dark but several hours later than planned so I arrived in pitch darkness, which made the last 188 miles an interesting mental challenge of having to focus extra hard on unfamiliar, pitch black roads. You might also want to take note of the sun's direction as riding into a sunrise or sunset can be a challenge--but I wouldn't let it stand in the way of a great route.

The loneliness of a long distance rider...

Not another soul, it seemed, rode I-76 after midnight. Before reaching I-76, I had spent considerable time on I-80. It too was dark and rather isolated. Truck, however, were omnipresent. Normally, I avoid trucks. But I found on I-80 that the sight of a truck filled me with joy. I still stayed far enough away to avoid surprises but I found one ahead of me and I gladly settled behind it and rode in the comfort of its lights and presence for many miles, approximately 40 happy minutes. When he turned off, I shouted in my helmet for it not to leave. Oh well. The isolation on I-80 paled in comparison to the total blackness and absence of vehicles on I-76 heading into Colorado.

It's spooky looking into the mirrors and seeing nothing. Total black nothingness. It's surreal. I recall shivering a couple time, not from cold but from the spookiness of it all. Less than 200 miles from Golden, Co and I was seriously alone. The moto-type lights beautifully illuminated the side of the road where I kept searching for death wish deer, angry bears and rabid mountain lions. It didn't help that at a post midnight stop at a McDonald's to get a Coke, a man came up to me and said, "Hey, be careful out there, there's been a lot of deer spottings." I thanked him. "You being on a bike, you better be careful." I thanked him again. "Last week or so, they had to air lift a man off the road 'cause he hit an elk." I thanked him again. Then the clerk behind the counter chimed in. "My uncle hit a deer and his car caught on fire--totally destroyed his car--he was hurt too." I thanked him too. "Just be careful, 'cause there's a lot of deer out there." I'm sure they meant well, but I left feeling that McDonald's was about the most dangerous place for me to be!

The mind is a strange thing and vulnerable to suggestion. My normal scanning for animals took on paranoid dimensions after that stop. Every twinkle of a reflector embedded along the side of the road appeared to be the eyes of a deer waiting to dash out at the precise point of impact. It took me many miles to shake off the "helpful" advice from the late night McDonald group. I remained vigilant but settled down to enjoy the lonely black road to Denver, CO. Another place that spooked me: rest areas, advertised with the blue and white road signs. I've visited many rest stops at night. Some are fine, some are downright terrifying. I stopped at one somewhere along I-76. Not a car in sight but packed with trucks. Inside the building, men who looked sleep deprived including a few who looked this side of deranged, made me wish I'd taken my switch blade with me into the bathroom. Before entering the slightly opened bathroom door, I bent down to see if anyone was inside any of the stalls. I consciously used the first stall, figuring it was closest to the door and if necessary, I'd have a shorter distance, if attacked, to fight my way outside. When I left the bathroom, I stood inside the building to make my phone call to my contact, Robert, in Golden, CO. I told him that I would be arriving way too late for him to sign my form. He provided me with much helpful info for getting to a police or fire station to get the form signed and directions to the hotel.

I settled back into the dark, lonely ride west until I could see signs of Denver way in the distance. The sky twinkled in the massive congregation of lights and tall structures. As if I were being propelled by a giant magnet, I moved tirelessly toward those lights. I realized that it wasn't the dark road that bothered me most, it was the pitch blackness that permeated the entire sky and the lack of light in air space. I'm talking absolute nothingness. The lights shining in Denver gave the jet blackness much welcomed sparkle. It made the world seem alive and it made me a tad emotional. I was almost there and I immediately remember the ending of the motorcycle documentary "Long way Down," where an accident occurred near the end of the journey. It's true, the ride isn't over until it's over. I hadn't made it yet but I was getting closer. I did my body check and realized that I felt great, not good, great!

Contacts--activating your network

After hanging up with my Golden CO contact, I called Claye, who had been my hotel checker, weather reporter and general "call a friend" person on the road. I could call her for any reason. Her best delivery was the AMA code for hotel discounts (Thanks, Claye). A few times, I was able to call or text her to check something for me. Two hours later, I could call her for the answer. Gosh, how did I get along before text messaging and email. On my first SS, I called no one and only advocate it if you have a need. It was great having someone who could look something up for me. No offense Dave, if I had called you, it just wouldn't have worked so easily. Call a computer savvy person. It saves time and beats having to drag out your computer or fiddle with the Blackberry.

When I reached my hotel in Golden, I got lost. The GPS kept trying to steer me correctly but for the life of me I couldn't find the turn. Claye had warned me that it was tricky to find and was tucked behind an Outback steak joint. While being lost, I found my last gas station from which I needed a time stamped receipt. This was an unmanned station and I prayed that the machine would give me a receipt. On SS#1, the printer was broken and I couldn't get a receipt. I forced the clerk to get a piece of paper and sign it, which he reluctantly did. I had to return to the station the next morning to ask for a better, more formal receipt. On this SS, success! An accurate receipt popped out. Now if I could only find the hotel. I passed the restaurant again and turned in where my mind told me not to. It's tough getting lost at the end of a ride. My goal was to check in, find the police or fire station, and get my form signed.

I snaked my way around and behind the structure. I saw one hotel but not the one I was booked in. I continued riding around and there it was: Comfort Inn. After parking the bike, I looked at the time it was about 1:40a.m. I decided to ask the clerk to sign the finish form but first I had to wait at the front desk until the clerk appeared. Finally, another guest went to retrieve her. The clerk returned; she was cordial, apologetic and willing to sign my form. Evidently, she knew motorcyclists in Chicago and that seemed to give me some street "creds." She wanted to chat with me about motorcycles and rides she's taken on the back of bikes. Form was signed at 1:45ish a.m. so I didn't mind chatting with her a bit.

Later, I unpacked the bike, checked into the room, checked my body signs and I felt great. Not tired at all. No tension in the shoulders, ankle rotated without noise--I felt giddy and had to force myself to settle down and go to sleep. Although I hadn't had a real meal since the day before, the ongoing munching had kept stomach growls away.

Were I not meeting a dear friend later in the day in Aurora, CO, I know this for sure:

If I follow my common sense secrets, a Bun Burner is not far away...wonder if I can fit one in before the snow falls. Hmmm....

Saddle Sore#2 -- 1,054 miles (21 hours)

Stay tuned...

Part II--The Return and Riding the Great Plains of Kansas

Second Saddle Sore Success

I'll write more about it later, but wanted to report that I just completed my second Saddle Sore (1000 miles minimum in less than 24 hours). This one was far more fun than the first for some very excellent reasons that I'll share when I return home.

I left the Chicago area around 5 a.m. (two hours later than I had planned). This, by the way, was a totally unplanned Saddle Sore. I started toying with the idea a day or so before I left. I arrived in Golden, Colorado around 1:45 a.m. The last two hours were very interesting. I was NEVER tired on this trip--I'll share my secret, which does not involve anything artificial and certainly NOTHING illegal. Hey, it doesn't even include coffee!

Covered 1,054 miles.

I plan to see a friend in Aurora, CO and then head to Nicodemus, KS, a historic rural town founded by African Americans. Hardley anyone lives there now but it is a national historic site. Then it's on to Topeka, KS, to view the national site of Brown vs the Board of Education at Topeka.

Stay tuned...

The Healing power of the sun...

Been dodging some curve balls lately. I won't complain. I guess if we don't get some occasional challenges we'll get out of shape and not be prepared for the really big stuff that inevitably comes along. 

Another sleepless night (well, I did get three hours). Woke up early and peered at the blackness outside. In the distance I could see a new day dawning. I dressed as fast as I could. Got my camera ready, geared up and left the house.     At 5:30 a.m., the road was whizzing by. 

As I rode northbound, high on LSD,* I peered to the east, my right side, and watched the sky transform from dark blue to soft reds and golden hues. Lake Michigan is east of the city. Any place along it, is a great setting to watch a new beginning each day.  (Click photo for better view)

My latest favorite spots to watch the sun present itself are near Wilson Avenue or Montrose Harbor. Wilson is best because the parking is readily available. When I arrived it was 5:47 a.m. According to the sunrise and sunset almanac, the sun would perform it miracle soon after 6:oo a.m. To catch the kaleidoscope of colors one needs to be on site early.

(Click photo for better view)

I found my favorite spot and prepared the Nikon D80. I waited while looking out on the lake, which still looks like an ocean to me.

I took picture after picture and in between I felt new energy as I watched the sun rise and the gulls' incessant racket overhead. By the time I left, I felt renewed. I had let go of the disappointment of having to cancel my weekend trip; I permitted myself to embrace whatever waited ahead today, tomorrow, next week.  Every where I wanted to ride, will still be there...waiting. 

*LSD=Lake Shore Drive

My first Track Day!

Three events have converged nicely to hone my riding skills. First, on July 26, I took an advanced street riding strategies class that stressed better braking, proper cornering and entry speed, and using lower body action to become a maximally efficient rider. Second, about a week later I came across an excellent book, Riding in the Zone: Advanced Techniques for Skilled Motorcycling, that I’m planning to review soon. Third, I was approached to participate in my first Track Day (TD) event.

I had planned to do a TD before the end of this ride season. Then on Saturday, while in Motoworks to retrieve my SV650, I ran into Johnny, the owner who asked me when I was going to participate in their TD. I said I wanted to and had planned to—sort of. This has been my response now for several years. He asked what I was doing Sunday, the next day. Actually, work had made me cancel my trip, so I was relatively free(er). He sprang it on me that the Motoworks sponsored TD would commence with a Sunday dinner gathering at Gingerman Raceway on Monday in South Haven, MI. Although caught a bit off guard, it didn’t take much to convince me that it was time to do Johnny's TD. I had one tentatively scheduled for September at the Autobahn in Joliet--but what the heck…

Had a nice, hot and sweaty ride up to South Haven on Sunday. Only the last 30 minutes of the less than 2 hours ride turned dark and rainy with an added benefit of a cooling wind. The dinner at Clementine’s was a chance to see familiar faces (the Motoworks staff) and meet a few new ones. “Thanks” to Johnny for picking up the dinner tab for the whole group.

Monday, 7:30 a.m. check in at Gingerman Raceway. The day began with registration, high energy snacks, bike prep and inspection, and track staff introductions. The event was taught by the folks at Sportbiketracktime.com. The instructors all seemed highly skilled and unquestionably competent. They were an engaging bunch and full of clear and easy to instructions to share. I was impressed with how accessible the instructors were. I appreciated that they emphasized safety above all else and underscored that the tone of the day was not about racing but about improving one’s skills at cornering and its related components. After introductions and spelling out the rules of the day we were ready to roll.

(Beemers were out in full force)

We were separated into groups by skill level. One of the neat things about this TD was that it was low keyed and non-competitive. About half of the participants were new, either never having done a TD or having only one under their belt. This made for a dynamic group, in my opinion. All told, there were around 50 riders with half being “advanced” TD riders and the other group consisting of varying levels of “Novice.”

Prepping the bike is quite interesting. Everything that could send a signal to the rider and those around him or her gets taped. This includes all lights, speedo and tach. Initially this seems rather extreme but soon the “why” becomes clear. One doesn’t need distractions on the track. Moreover, not having this information forces one to rely more on the brain and other sensory cues. Deflating the tires to 30lbs also made sense in that doing so increases the tire contact patch, which puts more rubber on the road.

Classroom meetings: Each ride session was approximately 30 minutes followed by a classroom meeting. In class, we listened and learned things about the track, heard strategies for maintaining clean lines, and asked for assistance on specific track challenges. We learned about tricky corners and how to enter and exit them; we even heard a bit of physics on how bikes behave when leaned, when given more or less throttle and how body action works for or against one’s efforts. Bright orange cones, located throughout the track were demystified and explained as more than place holders but as valuable pointers for executing turn-in and noting an apex; we learned to use visual cues as aids in honing our developing cornering skills.

The Track layout: We began by following our instructor, whom we shadowed on the inner line, the outer line, and then the race line of the track. Each line requires an adjustment on how good cornering is accomplished. I found some of my pre-lunch runs better than some of the later ones. Adrenaline might be the reason. I had made goals the night before that this was going to be about my own improvement. Nothing more. Nothing less. I will never be the fastest rider on the road. It’s not a goal I covet. I do, however, want to be highly skilled and competent on the road, to be in control no matter the road challenges I’m likely to encounter. So, I happily settled in or near the back of the queue for my group.

The track is fast—or so it seemed to me. The ground, which I should not have been looking at, whizzed by at shockingly extreme speed, which was mostly mental as I never got out of third gear—but I never ran in third gear THAT fast and THAT hard before! Regardless of the actual gear the bike was in, we were moving FAST!  The speed definitely required one’s full concentration as the track’s challenges were inspiring, surprising (at times) and ongoing. Getting lazy in any one area could lead to trouble down the road, so to speak. Although the 30 minutes time slots on the track always seemed to fly by, being in the zone, in such an intense way demanded huge chunks of physical and mental energy. Remaining focused, hydrated and responsive on such a hot day, added to the TD demands.

On the track, some turns/corners seemed effortless but it was not something one could count on. One easy corner turned out to be a tricky set up for the more challenging ones down the track. I learned early on that the corners could never be taken in isolation. One had to consider the track as a whole. Corners are linked in that how one enters one corner can make or break the next. In other words, it was necessary to set up properly for corner "A", because it could determine how one handled corner "B" and so on. That’s not to say one can't make corrections. But it does say that it’s easier to do the cornering correctly so that the road doesn’t become one big struggle to survive each turn. The only way to deal with this well is to ALWAYS be looking ahead, always be aware of what is coming up on the road so that you can set yourself up properly. For those blind corners, well, if you're in the correct position on the track/road, you can even handle these blind corners well by being in a good lane position to act swiftly when you finally can see around that corner. Constant scanning is exhausting work as is being on high-alert every minute of a ride.

(Some of Motoworks' staff)

One of the biggest lessons I learned was trusting my bike to execute my input. As someone with a huge investment in my brain, I tend to deliberate before I’m willing to commit to an action. Motorcycling often requires quick judgment. Yet, some things seems counterintuitive. Like counter steering. In the early days of learning to ride, counter steering seemed (b)ass (a)ackwards. Now, I can’t imagine why that concept once gave me pause. On TD, I realized that while I have no problems leaning, I was not as quick to roll through all corners—particularly at the more extreme lean angles--I was conservative at best. The thought of giving it more throttle at such times seemed crazy. I learned that this inability almost always meant that I had entered the corner too fast to begin with! The bike behaves better when one can enter the corner a tad slower, start the lean and roll completely through.  On baby, moderate speed corners this was a non-issue. But on faster corners, that came at me in a flash, and required sharper leans even a split second of hesitance is not good. I began trying to decidedly and consistently roll through each corner, more and more, and by the afternoon, I got it. This is huge for me. I thought of my Suzuki SV650 with its light weight and high fun factor and realized that it would be a perfect TD bike. I made a mental note to use it next time. I must admit, I had to shake off thoughts of damaging my ST. Perhaps that’s good for it kept my focus totally on the task a hand, so much so that I think I gave myself a headache by the afternoon.

I marveled at the advanced group. I saw people dragging their knees. I saw people who looked like they were sitting on the side of their bike they were hanging that far off the seat. I’m not sure I ever what to join their ranks but I leaned farther that day than ever before on my bike and I am confident in trusting it to respond to inputs from my throttle, handlebar and body shifts.

Throughout the day, the classroom continued to be a place of wise instruction and check in on the track experience. I asked a question about turning wide in one particular corner. The instructor told me what to do, he stressed being aware of my cornering line. The outside-inside-outside we learn during early motorcycle instruction, works in many circumstances. But one can’t apply that to every corner. I had been using the cone as the point at which I executed my turn in but consistently was going wide in the same corner. He told me to watch my entry. Am I turning in too early or too late? Am I leaning too much? He suggested I follow a delayed apex line, that I should travel a little pass the cone, look well into the corner and quickly execute the turn in. It was the quick, deliberate execution of the turn in that worked. All this while not focusing directly on the cone, of course. Bottom line, slow down the entry, look through the corner, commence the lean and throttle through the corner. It’s what I’ve read from other as: the slow in and fast out method.

(The Suzuki Gladius 650)

This brings up something that is powerfully examined in Ken Condon’s new book and included DVD, Riding in the Zone. In it, Condon emphasizes the importance of visual acuity, that is the ability to read the road, use one’s eyes to make a host of determinations about what is observed on the road, when to initiate one’s plan for safe riding and proper execution and knowing at all times the best lane position for conditions. Condon’s stresses that our eyes are not only for looking but for seeing, which are not necessarily synonymous.

(Holly's too cute trail bike!)

I ended my TD a little early only because I managed to acquire a headache. On my last run I found myself paying more attention to my brain drain than the track. Time to get off. I had a fabulous time, a day full of learning and getting outside my comfort zone. We improve by stretching our limits in a safe and controlled environment. As I packed up for home, I thought, “I’m impressed. I’m getting out of here without anyone asking me anything about my hair or making some ridiculous hair comment. But before I pulled off, four people separately made a hair inquiry. “Yes, it’s my real hair.” “No, it has never gotten caught in the chain--my bike doesn't have one.” “I’ve had locks for more than 10 years.” “No, they don’t take a long time to ‘braid’” 

Still, it was a special day and I’m looking forward to returning next ride season.

(Thoughtful of them to match the tape to my bike) 

I rode home that day with renewed confidence from having participated in my third rider skill building activity in weeks: an advanced street riding course, reading a new skills book, and my first Track Day. It’s all about riding with confidence and competency and an ongoing goal of increasing skills mastery. Do a TD, it stretches your riding muscles.

It doesn't get any better than 3 in 1...

Another canceled weekend trip turned out to be a very good thing. On Saturday, I was able to ride all three bikes. I used the ST to do some general errands. Afterwards, I dropped by Motoworks to retrieve the SV650 to take home to the suburbs. When I arrived, I took Dave's BMW F650GS on a little trip (still helping out to keep the GS running well). This is tough work (hehe).  Riding three bikes in one day is pleasurable beyond description. Each on required a different touch: the throttles had unique personalities. The ST is smooth, even and tame. The SV is twitchy, itching to go and a tad on the wild side. The GS is jeepish, solid and gets the job done without the drama of the SV, for example. Friction zones too have different personalities with the GS being the most forgiving--from a dead stop, it pulls in second gear without hesitation--the ST will too but it doesn't like it. The GS and I headed for Kankakee River State Park in Kankakee, IL.

I avoided the Interstate in favor of back roads and long stretches of emptiness and sweeping curves. Corn and soybean fields lined each side of me much of the way. 

For the most part, the roads were devoid of traffic. At times, the isolation was interrupted with an attractive old farm house or a fancy, modern mansion sitting on vast land. The GS seems made for roads like these. The road shoulders are replete with gravel that I didn't find objectionable. I never hesitated to pull over in because the bike enters and pulls away easily from such shifts in road surface.  I think these roads will make for some nice early morning photos and I made a mental note to return in the near future.

When I arrived at the park, I spent a little time at the river. I parked near another motorcycle because that's where an empty space existed. Had I known what was in store for me, I probably would have parked farther way. As I turned off the bike a couple sitting at a park bench turned. I thought the man was saying something but I couldn't hear him until I removed my helmet. He looked like he belonged to the Harley Davidson I parked next to. 

"Hey, aren't you hot with all that stuff on?" He motioned to his head and body. 

I hate when this happens. I mean, I don't ask folks anything about the gear they wear or don't wear. Why do I seem to always get people who shun gear asking me about mine.  It bugs me.  His voice is not questioning, it's more of an accusing statement. Inside I want to tell him to leave me alone. Instead, I just say, "No, I'm not, I'm fine." Frankly, I am ATGATT (all the gear, all the time). If I were burning up, sweating profusely, ready to drop of heat stroke, I'd never admit it to people who adopt that tone with me. It was a warm day but donning weather appropriate gear is possible. It requires an investment of money to find the right gear and a commitment to wear it. Period.

I reversed my route and headed home. While on one of those lonely roads, I thought about why I love solo riding so much. I am able to ride my own ride. Whenever I've ridden with Dave, for instance, I am paying attention to him and thus slightly distracted. My thoughts are interrupted as I watch him for and ignore the rode. Out there alone, I quickly settle into my own zone; I self talk about the ride and potential hazards; I vary my speed; I stop when I want; I do not need to synchronize my nature calls with anyone else. Solo riding. It's all about me and that's not a bad thing.

Stay tuned to hear me yak about Monday, my first Track Day of fun-filled learning.  

Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive on the BMW F650GS

Sometimes letting go is the only thing to do. I had another 1000 plus miles weekend planned. What I have to show is roughly 320 miles on the GS and less than 50 on the ST. Recall, I'm in the BMW mileage contest--I think, which is another story I'll save for another time.

Saturday I had research on the Underground Railroad planned that would take me to Indiana and OH. Excitement? Anticipation? Anxiety? I don't know. But I didn't sleep Friday and by 4am Saturday morning, just two hours from the time I wanted to depart, I was sleepy, cranky, and bewailing the insomnia that seems to have a stranglehold on me. I canceled the trip and for the rest of the day dragged around, doing an incredible performance of a zombie that was nothing short of academy award winning.

Sunday, I would spend the day with Dave's new BMW F650GS, the twin engine, detuned 800cc. His knee problems have him temporarily sidelined. I am going to hang in there and make this sacrifice to help him out by doing the honorable thing and helping to take care of his bike. It's tough work, but I'm willing to go the distance. Dave, I've got your back--or is that "...your bike."

I was up early preparing the bike--probably should have done that the night before. But we have our rituals. Well, my Cortech tank bag couldn't be attached properly. Neither did a second tank bag I tried. It took close to an hour of frustrating fiddling. Dave's tank bag is a towering top hat sort of bag, which is simply not to my liking. I rigged up my small tank bag, which sat cock-eyed on the tank. I departed almost two hours later than I planned.

Wisconsin's Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive (KMSD) has been calling me for a a long time.

It starts near Whitewater and ends about 115 miles northerly at the Sheboygan Marsh near Elkhart Lake. I'm more than 100 miles away so getting an early start is key. To me, it is never too early to head out. I live for those times, where I can motor along without all my defenses on extreme high alert, a time when the streets are quiet, almost barren. Some are entirely devoid of cars, which can feel like I'm alone in the world. I can settle back a bit and enjoy the hum of the F800ST engine, take in the smells of nature--alive and dead-- and the observe landscape whizzing by. It's a time that also brings out deer in search of breakfast.

I decided to take the back way to WI, avoiding the Interstate and tollway. Any chance I get, I will do the northern portion of the Lake Michigan Circle Tour, which carries me through some of Chicago's finest neighborhoods. It's the route I like most because it winds along Lake Michigan, allowing gorgeous views. On an early Sunday morning this normally congested route has few cars but in place of this are bicyclists--tons of them. They are ubiquitous! They ride solo and in packs--sometimes four abreast, taking up 3/4 of the lane with impunity! As a former bicyclist, I always wave and give them their space. In addition, motorcyclists were out in droves Sunday. Before losing sight of the lake, I saw a beautiful doe in Winnetka, appear instantly on the street. She looked lost and confused as she pranced across Sheridan Road. I wished her safety and kept moving. Probably etched in her DNA is residue memory that what is now Sheridan Road used to be prime foraging ground before the humans came.

It took more than a couple of hours to reach WI but on days like this, when the weather is perfect, time is never really an issue. Still, by the time I located the start to being the Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive, the chances of completing the entire course were fading. In all, I did approximately 1/4 of the KMSD but that was enough to assure my return to do the complete route and the Holy Hill side trip. The KMSD is made up of several units within the Kettle Moraine State Forest, which covers thousands of acres of land. My ride was limited to the Southern Unit. The roads are replete with long sweeping curves and rolling hills. Motoring along quiet county roads like "H" and "ZZ" "VV" are nothing short of amazing. County road C is a favorite. Look for the green and white acorn shape signs and follow along. At times that's challenging but even getting terribly lost on these roads is fun. Just let go.

Let no one say that the Midwest is only flat and straight. The KMSD demonstrates advancing and retreating of the Wisconsin glacier thousands of years ago. The diversity in the landscape is breath-taking. The road curves, sweeps, has rolling hills and beautiful cliffs. Moraines that are hundreds of feet high can still be seen in the area. It is worth a stop at the Kettle Moraine State Park, where the history of the area can be demystified.

Along the route one encounters interesting historical sites and enough quaint stores and shops to help break up the isolation of the county roads. I should have snapped a photo of one obviously popular place where a bunch of bicyclists and motorcyclists co-existed over ice cream or a cold beverage.

Although there are plenty of photo ops on the site, I didn't take many. Pulling over on many of the roads takes considerable care as many of the shoulders are filled with sand and gravel, which makes sense given that moraine are comprised of gravel, rock and sand. Curves can be tricky in spots and stopping requires careful footing. I settled back and just enjoyed the ride. I plan to return soon. I realize now this trip warrants an overnight stay so that I'm ready to roll in WI the day of the ride and devote an entire day to riding all the units. Stay tuned.

I rode enough to do a little review of the F650GS, which I'll post in a few days. I will say, it is a fun bike with great ergos and enough power to hang with the big guys. It has, without question, a tortuous stock seat. More later on the incredible GS twin.

Mileage: 320

Fun factor: 8 out of 10

Letting go: 10/10

Clutchless shifting,downshifting, and trail braking: SRTT, Part 2

Now that I've had some time to consciously apply some of the skills learned and relearned in the SRTT class, I wanted to share a few more things from the SRTT advanced strategies class. Now, these skills may be old hat to the experienced riders-readers of this blog. To me, they were not new skills per se but they were skills I either don't regularly employ or need to improve.

First, is clutchless shifting.To be perfectly honest, I've done such shifting more times than I can count. But until my SRTT class, I had never done it purposefully! No, I clutchless shifted before out of error and it was something I tried to avoid doing. I recall once when doing it badly, it freaked me a tad. Not knowing what I was doing made me think I was screwing up something.

Now, I've learned how to clutchless shift and when it is appropriate to use clutchless shifting. I am now a conscious clutchless shifter. I am judicious in my use. And, before anyone thinks clutchless shifting messes up the transmission, let me tell you, you are wrong! Proper clutchless shifting does not. Improper shifting does. You pre-load the clutch, just as you would do in ordinary shifting. There is a moment, a brief moment when the engine has a space where it is perfect for snapping the shifter up (of course, you're off the throttle for that brief time) and the gear, Voila, changes quickly, smoothly and easily.

Here's when I've used it: I enter lots of fast traveling Interstates where allowing mergers in is like asking a driver to surrender a kidney. Sometimes it takes much time to get up to speed, merge smoothly and watch out for those vehicles resistant to letting you in. Traditional shifting can consume valuable micro seconds. By having one less thing to think about, that is, pulling in the clutch, one can get on with the business of getting quickly on the expressway. I love this new skill, which I've gotten really smooth at executing since the class. I see it as my method for getting on aggressive, fast moving, Interstates.

Second, is downshifting. This is a technique I consciously have always used. I've owned my share of automobiles. I've never owned an automatic transmission. I learned to properly downshift with years of handling a stick shift. I understand this technique. Bottom line, if you simply downshifted without slowing down your engine speed, it can freak out your machine, hurl your body forward, throw the back end out of line--it could upset the bike and cause rider injury. Downshifting badly in a car is no huge deal--you've got four wheels to keep you grounded. Bad downshifting on two wheels can be ugly.

If you're in fourth gear, moving at a fast clip and you need to get to first quickly you listen to your engine revs. You want to match that. You want to give the throttle enough blip--not too much and not too little. This is learned. You will blip the throttle (blipping is by definition a quick jolt to the throttle) and then downshift. You'll know if you've given it just the right amount because the bike will smoothly change to the lower gear without pulling you forward, or yanking your body backward or disturbing the back end of your bike. Just right, means the bike continues in its forward line of travel without showing signs of being disturbed. Here's what the sport riders say about it.

Third, is trail braking. Another one of those skills that I've done because it makes sense. But I didn't remember the theory behind it. Here is the theory. All I know is, it works and it gives the rider a high level of comfort in curves or when the bike is leaned over and you need to use/keep brakes applied. To know this is to increase one's comfort level when the bike is not perfectly upright. I don't ride mountain road enough to have yet feel entirely fluid. I do well, but I don't have the skills yet to blast through. I do the speed limit, perhaps 5-10 over. Now, long sweeping curves, no problem. To me, trail braking adds to the bag of strategies one can used when traveling in less than an upright position.

So, that's it. I've had some time to practice and you know what they say about practice...here's what we should say: Practice makes improvement."

Introducing: The Scorpion EXO-900 Transformer

The BMW rally was a great place to check out vendors and spend a little cash. With a budget firmly in mind, I was receptive to being convinced to acquire a few "must-have" farkles. My own list included a new helmet. My friend, Lucas, wears a full-face Scorpion. He's not the kind to push his favs on others but he'll answer all your questions about a product he's been impressed with. He's likes his Scorpion and says it's quiet. Like me, he does a lot of research before parting with his dollars. So, the Scorpion was on my radar as a possible alternative to buying a fourth Nolan helmet. I've loved my Nolans. Obviously. Although some say, "if it's not broken, don't fix it," I say, change is good sometimes.

My friend, Claye, was also looking for a new helmet--the result of a theft in Johnson City, which I'll talk about in the rally blog that I'm working on. We knew that Nolan was having a big sale. I missed the Nolan vendor booth upon first search. Then Claye and I found the Scorpion booth. The helmets looked sleek and aerodynamic, almost space age to me. We checked out the full face, which I keep saying I'm going to purchase to add to my modular collection (helmets to me are like shoes are to some women--one can't have too many IMHO).

I shared with Claye, my friend's comments about his Scorpion. After much consideration and a return to the Scorpion booth, we both bought the Scorpion EXO-900 Transfomer helmet. It gets its "Transformer" name because the modular system that surrounds the front of the helmet is removable. This removable piece can be replaced with another, similar piece that surrounds the top part of the helmet, making a sort of external top guard. This operation opens the helmet's face and turns it into a 3/4 helmet. I'd never wear such a helmet--now; although I own a Nolan 3/4 helmet that I unfortunately bought in my first year of riding and wore about three times before shelving it in favor of a Nolan modular. Because of this, the helmet is also referred to a 3 in 1 helmet (modular, full face, and 3/4).

Claye and I thought the separate transformer feature so unimpressive that we each gave it back to the vendor for recycling. So, what is it I like about this helmet. Many things. Compared to my beloved Nolan N102, the Scorpion is significantly quieter. Since I didn't have a reference point, I didn't realize that my Nolan was noisy until I heard something different. My HJC Sy-Max seemed quiet until I experienced the Nolan. Wearing ear plugs also makes the noise less of an issue. But with or without ear plugs (I wear the Etymotic er6i noise isolating plugs) the EXO-900 is significantly more quiet.

The helmet has some interesting features. I like its internal visor system. On the left side of the helmet is a glove friendly slider that can be raised to releases a sun visor inside the helmet. It is not a deeply dark visor but it is certainly enough to block the sun from one's eyes. Both the internal and external visors are coated with an anti fog solution, which worked as I went through fog in VA on my way home from the rally. My Nolan's visor is external to the helmet. I've had no problem with this style but others have complained about it being caught in the wind and rattling. My problems started only after dropping the helmet, which I did several times. After that, the visor was randomly loose and occasionally giggled. The internal Scorpion visor can also be lowered fully or part way. It fits nicely over my eyeglasses. Speaking of which, if you wear glasses, to me, the modular is the way to go. Initially, I had trouble getting the new helmet over the glasses and had to remove them to get the helmet on. This didn't make me happy but I correctly attributed it to the helmet being new. After more than 2500 miles, I'm able to get it on and removed without removing my glasses.

The helmet has two top vents and one at chin level. I've not tested the venting system in 90 plus degrees Fahrenheit weather, but the air flow seems adequate. The helmet is a snug fit, which demands that I take care in inserting my ear plugs. If not, any protuberance will hurt, given the helmet's snug fit, after a few miles. On the back, bottom of the helmet is a small rubber bubble that is part of the "Airfit" system. If the bubble is pushed, it adds snuggness to the cheek and lower neck area. The more it's pushed, the more snug the fit and the more air is prevented from getting inside the helmet--pretty cool. This allows one to tweak the helmet for more snuggness around the checks and helps secure the helmet around the neck. I've pressed the bubble and frankly I don't notice much difference as it is already rather snug fitting in those two areas.

On the lower left side of the helmet is a doorway of sorts that looks as if it is the portal to a communication system. The Nolan has one in the same place that allows one to hook up a communication unit. I made one modification on the helmet. I loved the ratchet system on the Nolan for securing the helmet at the neck. It's a cool feature that allows easy opening and closing. The Scorpion has--or had--the old D-ring system, which I don't like. So for $10, Claye made the D-ring superfluous. We had installed a two-part slide and click system. It required minor surgery to remove the snap and replace it with the two part slide and click. Unfortunately, this doesn't remove the D-ring, so I'm left to tuck it away, which isn't a problem. So, I've had to tuck the D-ring behind the strap. This may seem complicated but it isn't and now that I've tucked the D-ring a few times, it sort of stays put.

Overall, an excellent investment. Selecting the new helmet was easy. The hardest part will be keeping the dang helmet from hard drops on hard surfaces!

Webbike World Video Review

Scale: 1 -- 10 (from weakest to strongest)

Performance: 10

Style: 9

Design: 9

Colors (available) 2

Cost: 10

Saturday: Street Riding Technical Training (SRTT) class!

I try not to allow a season to pass without taking an advanced riding class. The only one I've ever taken is the SRTT class offered by Ride Chicago, the private motorcycle school where I re-entered the world of motorcycle riding and to whom I credit my ever-evolving skills. I've written extensively about this class before so I'll be briefer here. I don't know about the ERC given by the MSF team, but this one is superior and one I'll keep taking.

It was a gorgeous day to spend with a small group of motorcyclists. The class was small, six students (I can't remember if that includes me or not). In any case, the first thing I couldn't help notice is that the other bikes looked mean! They were bikes that made asking if they were fast, a ridiculous inquiry. They reeked speed. It showed in their hiked up tail and fierce headlights angles. For the first time, I felt my bike somewhat anemic. Jessie Owens looks downright docile standing next to those sportbikes. The riders of those aggressive looking bikes were all young men (emphasis on "young") dressed in varying styles of street bike riding jackets. One came in full leathers that reminded me of an astronaut ready to take off. One of my first thought was: I'm old enough to be the mother of every single rider here--and that includes the two instructors, Chris and Rocky! That I was the only female added to my initial sense of both bike and personal anemia.

I felt a tiny edge in that I've taken this course before and knew, more or less, what was in store. Everyone else was new to the course. The class was a half day rather than the full day program I've taken before. Still, I knew the course would be challenging, especially at first and would seem manageable at the half way point. I knew the skills that would be introduced and some are now second nature habits of my own. For example, braking. It is taught very differently than one encounters in a basic course. I can't remember the wrong way to brake anymore. In this course, braking is taught by leaving the clutch alone until the last minute. So imagine, you're riding along. You see the need to apply brakes, you do so. You apply the front and back brake in a progressive fashion. You apply pressure and then squeeze on greater presssure. Before you feel the bike chug, you then pull in the clutch. First, with this method, you're thinking of one less thing but more importantly you allow the bike to do its work easiest. It's also how racers brake and I can only say, it makes more sense and feels more logical to me.

The other huge thing one learns in this class has definitely changed my riding since first taking this class. That is, hugging/squeezing the tank as one rides and using the lower body to facilitate steering. The stress is on the lower body while the rider consciously keeps the upper body loose and light.

The course is a vast lot on the grounds of Toyota Park in Bridgeview, IL where the Chicago Fire holds its soccer games. The course is set up with the expected challenges of weaving, emergency braking, curves that stress entry angle that demand you slow down, look where you want to go, lean and roll through. I especially liked working on this skill. There is a rhythmic beauty to these steps. Think about it: Ride at a brisk pace toward a curve. You slow down, which can almost look like stoppingl brake before entering the curve if you must. You turn your head in the direction you want to move in, lean and roll through the curve. It's that rolling through that I enjoy. Some curves were long sweeping, some were tight and sharp. The most challenging were the multiple curves (the back to back ones) that required you to make certain that the first curve you entered you did so with spot on entry angle (the old outside inside). If not, you could (and often did) conceivably throw off all the subsequent entries! This meant making sure that you not only looked at the curve right before you, but that you also were looking way ahead, far beyond curve #1 to make sure that you, your brain and your bike are also preparing for the next curve. It reinforced what we all know or should: don't allow a road situation to surprise you; to ride well requires technical skill; look far ahead too; and, practice makes improvement.

Our first taks is to learn the course. We rode around multiple times and still I would occasional space out. I'd be concentrating so hard on the skill that my brain would suddenly switch back to reality and I'd not know where I was. I counted. This happened four times. Once it happened during the time Rocky was taking pictures/video of the class. Fortunately, I stopped and was called over by the other instructor, with whom I chatted while the gang of guys sped around the course.

The half day flew by. One highlight for me was having both instructors try out my bike. Thumbs up from both of them. I was surprised at how undramatic my bike seem when standing next to a group of overtly fast bikes. I'm not a fast rider but I do believe that in the hands of either of my instructors, Jesse Owens, my bike, could run with the best of them.

Saturday wasn't about what kind of bike one has or how good a rider one already is. It was about taking one's riding to another level--no matter where it was currently. It was about developing mastery over machine and the many road situation that exist. It was about riding efficiently and effectively. It was also about getting a glimpse of two instructors riding with skills and talents most of us can only dream about. It was interesting to see the two instructors ride students' bikes--they could hop on and ride as it they knew the bike. In reality, they know how to ride and the bike doesn't matter in the end.

The class ends with each rider completing the course while riding with one hand. Not only is this possible, it is actually rather enjoyable once you get over the fact that you'll have to make all those curves and complete the weaving with one hand! Like nothing else, one hand riding forces one to use their lower body to steer the bike. If you hadn't gotten it before, you get at this point just how important using your lower body IS--a wonderful test of how much this lesson has been internalized in the class. To manage the curves, to complete the cone weaving, and ride around the course multiple times with only the throttle hand on the bike makes you feel in control of your machine!

(Me and Jesse Owens!)

I don't have a lot of pictures of the day--after all the time was spent riding. It has yet to fail that after this class I always ride home a little differently, more in control, more confident, more straight up in the saddle, so to speak. It was a day well spent--even if I am old enough to be every one's mother!