Wild Motorcycle Tales - Safe riding is no Accident Page 4

Wild Motorcycle Tales

Safe riding is no Accident

Page 4

One day, my Trans Am finally had enough of the long drive to Tempe and threw a rod. All I had for transportation was my Harley at that point. Out of necessity, I took the next big step in my bike riding experience by driving the long distance to ASU every day on my motorcycle.

There was no way in hell I was riding on the highway when I first started distance riding, so I took a back country two-lane road that led all the way into Tempe instead.

It was a beautiful early morning drive I took every day for several months, starting when it was dark and there were a million stars in the sky, with the smell of cactus and fresh fall air cooling my skin all the way into town. I would literally watch the sunrise as I rode to school, and the sunset as I rode home.

This was an important break-in period, where I learned how to ride at speeds around 50 mph (sometimes more!), how to maneuver at speed, how to pay attention to "what's in front of me," how to pass cars, be passed, how to drive in rain and wind, and how to drive in the city traffic that got progressively thicker as I got closer to ASU.

As winter approached, I put on several layers of clothes under my jacket, and bought some lined gloves. I rode my motorcycle through the whole cold season, driving like a scared rabbit all winter, never forgetting to fear and respect the snake lest it bite me.

At one point in the road was a turn off onto the main highway, I-10, leading into Phoenix. I passed by it every day during my back road trek, and each time I asked myself why I didn't have the courage to just turn onto the on ramp and take I-10 into Tempe. I'd pass it by each time, afraid of what wrecking on the highway would mean. Finally, one day I strapped on an even bigger set of balls, turned onto the on ramp and gunned it past the point of no return.

It was exhilarating being on the highway, with the wind on my chest, pushing me back and forcing me to grip the apes harder. For the first time going into town, I stayed in the slow lane and tailed a trucker all the way to Phoenix, afraid to pass him. It wasn't until one of the later rides that I decided to pass a semi truck. Its wake at first pushed me out and then sucked me in, and then when I was in front of the semi, all the turbulence was gone.

Every day I was getting braver, more daring, and more stupid.

Once I got used to highway driving, I started feeling like I was a real biker. By summer, I was driving on the highway with no helmet and no leather jacket. I had only a biker hat, a pair of sunglasses, blue jeans, and my boots between me and all that asphalt.

I had since customized my bike with a new set of tie-dye tins, some custom skull mirrors and lots of chrome.

I started doing cocky things, like riding in the HOV lane with no hands on the handlebars, popping wheelies at lights in town, and driving up to 100 mph and faster sometimes on the long drive home. I decided that I wanted to convert the 883 to a 1200 to get more power, which was a mistake. The bike shop I took it to put the push rods in backwards and blew one of the lifters apart and into the engine casing. The bike started to not run right after that, and I needed a new motorcycle, since I had missed a week of school due to a breakdown and drew some negative attention upon myself for that. I went to the local bike shop in Casa Grande, where I had been buying my sunglasses, brake pads, etc. and started looking for a new bike.

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