Motorcycling as a Martial Art

I used to practice a martial art called Kendo. It's Japanese sword fighting where you use bamboo swords and protective gear and beat the crap out of everyone. Obviously an over simplification but like any martial art, the first thing you do is learn technique and then practice it and practice it some more until it becomes automatic. The really neat part about Kendo is that for about half the time you are at the dojo, you are doing full contact sparring. One of the things that happens with a martial art like Kendo is that at some point in your training, you actually stop thinking and your sub-conscious sort of takes over. At that point your conscious mind becomes a passive observer and your body and sword seem to be running on auto pilot. I remember vividly the first time that happend to me. It was like I went to a whole other level in my abilities. It was one of the coolest experiences I ever had. That is also the feeling I get when I'm riding. I really don't think about anything at all and it's like my mind is simply a passive observer and my body and the machine are doing this intricate dance with the road and the elements. I see a curve, and the bike just flows around the curve. A pot hole or a furry animal appear and the bike just twists ever so slightly to avoid it. I hit a cross wind and the bike just automatically corrects. It really is a magical experience.

There is another piece to this as well. I remember my old sensei saying to me, "I'm getting old and my reflexes aren't nearly as good as yours but you will never beat me because I always know what you are going to do before you do it". And he was right. It was uncanny how he always countered me no matter what I tried. Over the years as I've been riding, I've practiced what several people on this board have suggested which is to imagine that you are invisible and everyone is going to pull out in front of you. What has happened is that as I've observed what people do, I've developed kind of a sixth sense so that I know what is going to happen. It's served me well over the years and now that I'm older and a little slower, it helps to have that edge. Mind you, there is still no substitue for being alert and observant of everything around you but experience is the best teacher.

Motorcycling like a Navajo tracker

Years ago when the kids were young, my wife and I spent a lot of time taking them on nature walks. We'd walk the trails around home, in the foot hills, up in the mountains and out on the eastern plains. We all loved spotting animals and watching them in the wild. I discovered an author named Tom Brown who had written a number of field guides on the outdoors. His grandfather was a Navajo tracker and much of what he learned was from him. One book in particular "Tom Brown's Filed Guide To Nature Observation and Tracking" was particularly useful to us. Tom presents a technique he calls "Splatter Vision" where you try to broaden your field of vision so that you are looking at everything, not just what's straight in front of you. You let your mind go and it will detect slight movements of things that don't seem to fit the pattern of what you are looking at. It's amazing how much more you can see when you master this technique. I know my family got years of enjoyment viewing wildlife by doing it.

So how does it apply to motorcycling? It's the same principle. You don't just focus on what is straight ahead of you, move your eyes slowly back and forth over the road and widen your field of view to include eveything you can see. Then free your mind so that it can lock onto things of interest. That may be a movement in the corner of your eye or the change in the color of the road indicating possible danger from sand or oil or a pothole. It's like you expand out you vision, then zoom in momentarily on something of interest then back out again. With practice, you don't even have to think about it, it just becomes second nature. Helps you really "see" the world around you.

The Ride

I thought I'd try to paint a picture of why I enjoy riding so much so that maybe others would understand my perspective.

First, you need to know that I've got a lot of years and miles under my belt so I think I have a pretty fair handle on the physical aspect of riding. Mind you, you never stop learning because the day you become complacent about the physical skills, is the day you go down. The second piece and what I consider most important is the mental piece of riding. That's where the true enjoyment comes in.

So let me tell you about my typical ride. I start by figuring out what I'm going to wear. You need to be comfortable so I check the weather and typically overdress a little for the day. It's more comfortable to have to cool off than it is to try to warm up. Next I roll the bike out into the center of the garage. I'll check the air pressure in the tires, check the oil and antifreeze levels and do a general walk around checking the bike. I also pause to admire the machine I'm about to ride and savor the anticipation. Finally, I'll roll the bike out of the garage and fire it up. I now put on my helmet and gloves and make the final adjustments to my riding gear. All done purposefully and in a deliberate manner. I then climb onto the machine. At this point, I'm ready to go. I pull in the clutch, shift into first gear and then pause ever so briefly, again just enjoying the anticipation of the ride.

Then I'm off, down the street, heading for the open country. I usually don't know where I'm going to end up. I just pick a direction and see where it takes me. It will depend on the weather, on my mood and on the traffic situation but most generally, I'm headed out into the country to enjoy the wide open spaces.

At first, I'm adjusting my seating position, and just getting into the feel of the machine. But gradually, I feel myself relaxing and becoming a part of the machine. I don't think about anything when I'm riding, my mind just goes into this thoughtless state of total awareness. It's not like I'm in a trance or anything, it's more like my mind opens up to everything going on around me. My field of view increases to where I have a full panoramic view of the road ahead and what's beside me. I hear the sounds around me, the thrumming of the engine, the hum of the tires on the road, the wind in my ears and the sounds of nature around me. I smell the aromas in the air, the scent of the pines as I pass by them, the freshness of the coming rain, or the fresh mown grass. I feel the brisk fingers of the cool winter air or the warm embrace of the dry summer wind. I accept that all as part of the ride and I embrace it.

At some point, I become one with the bike, with the road, and with the world around me. I believe I reach a point that in zen is refered to as "satori" or enlightment. It is at this stage when time no longer has any meaning for me. I just ride and go wherever the road takes me. Obviously, I don't stay that way forever, I still have to stop for gas and other things but even when I stop, it's not a rushed or hurried thing. I'll pause to enjoy the people and places and then move on.

Finally, I will return home. Often as the sun is setting and pull the bike into the garage. I slowly unmount and for a moment, I reflect on what a great ride I had. I may feel a little tired from the journey but I always feel refreshed and relaxed. Looking forward to when next I can ride again.

I know that this all probably sounds rather mystical and like "Zen and the art of motorcycle riding" but it's where I'm at and who I am and damn, it sure feels good. I just wish I knew how to share it with others. My hope is that it's just how a person evolves in their motorcycle journey through life and given enough time and miles, everyone who rides will eventually get there one way or another.

My pictures
I never thought of my pictures as anything special, just a way of sharing what I see, but I'm beginning to realize that I might have "a gift" for taking them. I've got two kids, now grown, that have helped a lot in creating that in me. When the kids were young, my wife and I spent a lot of time going on nature walks with the kids. Kids have a really genuine way of looking at things and are always quick to point out the beauty in nature. It was through their eyes that I began to see all the beauty around me. Now that I have the time to ride as much as I do, I'm feeling that connection with nature's beauty again. I think that's what my "gift" is all about. I know many of you have small children, enjoy them, enjoy spending time with them and be open to what they can teach you about the things around you.

Know when to hold 'em, when to fold 'em.
There have been several articles recently about bikers being hassled by cars or trucks. Being a lone biker for a number of years, I've had my share of "encounters" from time to time. Every "encounter" is different. There is no way you can plan how to react to a given situation because there are just way too many things that can happen. So, don't lock youself into a plan on how you would react to something. I used to carry but I realized that when you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail and out here in the wild west, we have a lot of nails.

Know when to hold 'em. There are times when it makes sense to stand up to someone. I recently had a punk kid in his parents SUV tail gating me. I pulled over and waved for him to go around and he just stopped behind me and laid on the horn. I started back up and he was right on my tail again. So, the next gap in traffic, I did a U-turn and swung right in behind him. I stayed right there and followed him until he got scared and went home. He pulled into the garage, shut the door and I went up, rang the door bell and had a nice chat with his dad. He won't be doing that again for a long time.

Know when to fold 'em. Wrong part of town, wasn't real sure where I was going, young buck in a hopped up car decided he didn't like me on his turf. Once I realized he was after me, I rode up between a couple parked cars, jumped the curb, down the sidewalk, around a chained entrance into a parking lot and out the entrance on the other side of the block. Then I hightailed it out of the neighborhood.

Think outside the box. We ride on two wheels with a narrow track. There is no way we can win a duel with a car or truck so it's not even worth trying. Think about what a bike can do that a car or truck can't and take advantage of that. Sometimes it means outrunning them, sometimes it means going places they can't go, but the key is, don't play the game by their rules, make your own.

That existential question
Bikerrev wrote: "There is an existential question underlying all this that has to do with identity. In other words, "how much do I need my bike to know who I am, or how much do I need my bike to let others know who I am." "Am I dependent on my bike for my identity and self worth, or is my bike just a part of who I am and I would be who I am with or without the bike."

Excellent question bikerrev. It's actually the question that's been rattling around in my head lately and didn't become well formed until you asked it.

I don't presume to judge how others would answer this question so I will address it from my own perspective. So for the first part, "how much do I need my bike to know who I am, or how much do I need my bike to let others know who I am." I'll speak to the last part first. I don't need my bike to let others know who I am. Being a "Lone Biker" I tend to ride by myself so the only people who see me are those that I pass on the road. They are generally faceless people busy going somewhere and focusing on the destination, not the ride. I honestly don't care how they perceive me. Now as for the first part "how much do I need my bike to know who I am" that one is a lot more difficult.

For me, riding is far more than just the technique and the machine. It's about being "out there" in the world. Seeing the first rays of sunlight breaking through the rocks at the bottom of a deep canyon, feeling the sting of the rain as those first few big drops begin to fall, feeling the bite of the cold mountain air, gravity's strong hand pushing you down as you are heeled over in a sharp curve. Seeing the majesty of God's creation spread out before you as you finally reach the mountain top, the rough massage of the 80mph wind as you cruise the open plain with eternity spread out before you. It's the agony of finding a fallen comrade on a high mountain road, feeling the compasion pour out as you hold and comfort him while you wait for the Flight for Life helicopter all the while watching the sheer agony on his face. This for someone you've never met before and who's only connection is a love for riding. You see, riding is about extremes, it's about those things in the middle but most of all it's about experiencing life and how you respond to it. For me, a motorcycle is that catalyst that lets me truely live life. So in that respect, I do use my bike to know who I am.

Now for the second part of your question "Am I dependent on my bike for my identity and self worth, or is my bike just a part of who I am and I would be who I am with or without the bike." There was a significant part of my life, when my kids were growing up that I didn't ride. That was my choice, no pressure from anyone else, but that's a discussion for another time. I don't believe that I was any different then than now. I continued to grow and learn more about myself and a lot of that was through the eyes of my kids. They truely can be wonderful teachers. So to that I would have to say, no, I'm not dependant on my bike for who I am. Like I said, I think my bike helps me better understand who I am and enjoy the beauty of nature but I'm not dependant on it for that.

The internet has provided a way for me to share the beauty I see around me as I ride with others of like mind. I include my bike in each picture because it is the bike that has gotten me "out there" to enjoy the beauty. So it's more like a signiture than an attempt to focus on the bike. You see, for me, a big part of riding is also being a philosopher and bikerrev, you just happened to ask the right question.

Forgot my camera so here's a picture in words
A deep blue sky and crisp clear air with just a touch of winters breath.
In and out of the mottled light as it's filtered through the pines.
The fresh scent of pine and the whisper of the wind through the trees.
The silent herd of deer grazing on the new shoots of grass.
The emerald hills of green, awakened by the spring snows.
The red tailed hawk, drifting on the breeze.
A great blue heron lifting from the pond.
The deep blue sky reflecting from the catch basins full from melted snow.
The raging stream, swollen from the spring run off.
The awakening grass lands beginning to ripple in the wind.
A wave of antelope, gliding across the rolling plains.
The spring calves, playfully bounding around the fields.
The summer clouds, like balls of cotton, drifting acrosss the sky.
The wide expanse of rolling plains, seeming to go on forever.
The silence of the prairie, broken only by the ticking of the cooling exhaust.
The open road, the endless sky, the thrumming of the engine, and the beating of my heart.
God, it's great to be alive!

You gotta taste the bitter to enjoy the sweet
 It snowed again the other day. As I was shoveling out the sidewalks to make my path to the main road, I got to thinking about riding on that first Spring day. You know what I mean, crisp clear air, blue sky, grass just starting to green up, that warm spring sun heating your body as you ride. Something to really look forward to. Then it occurred to me, what makes that ride so special is that it's different from my riding right now. It's the yin and yang, the hot and cold, that bitter and the sweet. So take heart, my biker friends, what we endure today will only make what will soon be coming, that much sweeter.

About that book...
 From time to time, people ask me if I'm going to do a book or a calendar. I have given it some thought but have decided not to. For me, it's about the ride. The Rocky Mountains and the High Plains are my favorite places to ride and the scenery there is just fantastic. By capturing a small glimpse of what I see and sharing it with others I hope to promote the part of riding that is being out there in the elements and the natural beauty of things. So much of owning a motorcycle is about the material side of things. What gear to wear, what accessories to add to the bike, etc, etc. That side is important too but I feel that others cover it quite well so I tend to focus more on the spiritual side of riding, that Zen thing. That's what I hope to bring across in my pictures.

I find that the internet is my media of choice for sharing my pictures. It's free to anyone who wants to look, just like the the views I capture. There's a pleasant irony to that. I also have my pictures licensed under the Creative Commons license which means that anyone is free to take any of my pictures and use them for whatever they want as long as they don't make money from them. Again, free just like the views I see on my rides.

Reflections on the last 100,000 miles and then some
 Was doing some figurin' the other day and I realized that since I started riding again in 2004 I've logged around 100,000 miles on my bikes. Got me to thinking about it and I realized that it's been the happiest time of my life. Grant it, there's points in time like my marriage and the birth of my kids that are my happiest moments but these past 4 years have generally been the happiest. So I was wondering why.

Seems like the watershed event for me happened just after I started riding again. In the space of about a year, I lost four people who were close to me to cancer. They were all about my age and it made me realize that my time on this earth is limited and I should enjoy it while I can. It was with that realization that I quit worrying about what tomorrow would bring and started living one day at a time. That attitude carried over into my job (stopped worrying about getting promoted), my relationships with family and friends (enjoy them as they are right now, not what they could be) and my riding (go wherever the road takes me and don't worry about where I am or when I get home).

But the riding piece is definitely what's been the catalyst to my happiness. It just keeps getting better with each new mile. I've ridden well above the clouds, well below the level of the ocean, felt the searing heat of summer and the frigid bite of winter. I've felt the sting of a driving rain, the pain of hail, been tossed about by those gusty High Plains Spring winds but mostly I've enjoyed the empty road, the clear blue sky and the sights and sounds of the wide open country.

I used to ride a lot in my younger years. I have many fond memories of riding the back country roads of Western Pennsylvania. It was a different time though. The Vietnam War was going on and I knew it was just a matter of time before I had to go. That and the typical problems of a teenager hung over my head and kept me from really enjoying the ride. After I got back from the war, I spent a whole summer just riding around the northeastern part of the US. That was a time of healing for me but again, all that baggage I brought back from the war kept me from really enjoying the ride.

I've reached a time in my life where I can finally let go of all those things I worried about in the past. My health hasn't ever been better. My blood pressure which was once too high is now perfectly normal without aid of medication. I can't remember the last time I was sick and I regularly volunteer at the Elementary School where my wife works so it's not like I'm not exposed to germs. I'm convinced it's the riding that's been my best medicine.

You can spend your life pursuing things that you think will make you happy, fretting over the past and worrying about the future or you can spend your life enjoying today. Each day is a gift, that's why it's called the present. Get out there and enjoy the ride!

On herding cattle
 I was out exploring some back roads on the High Plains that I'd not yet traveled. I happened upon a herd of cattle that had gotten through the fence and onto the roadway. I knew from my experience riding open range that the best way to get by them was to take it slow and easy, keep the engine noise to a minimum and don't make any sudden moves. I got about half way past the herd when the front half got spooked and took off down the road. Because the road was fenced on both sides, the cows could only go down the road ahead of me. Most of the cows were on the right next to the fence but the lead cow was running down the right side of the road. Now you have to understand that this was a dirt road that was mainly sand. On that kind of road you have to stick to the packed down tire tracks as the loose sand between the tracks can get pretty squirrelly. As I would come up to the lead cow on the left, she would swing her head around to look at me. That would also cause her to veer to the left into my tire track. I also knew from experience that a spooked cow can deliver a pretty nasty kick so I didn't want to get too close to her. After a couple hundred yards of this I realized that I was just herding cattle and they were going to go as far as I was willing to take them. At that point I just stopped and then they did too. So there I, between two halves of the herd in the unfortunate role of cattle herder. I decided that my best bet was to go back the other direction since that half of the herd hadn't gotten spooked. I took it real slow, had to stop a couple times to keep them from running but I did manage to get past them. Once past, I decided to just go back the way I came and find a different route. I tried to find the ranch that they belonged to and let them know but I wasn't able to. It must have been on down the road in the direction I was first going and I sure didn't want to try herding them all that way again.

So the lesson I learned was if I see a herd of cattle out on the roadway of a fenced road, go the other direction. You gotta know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em.

Noise
 A loud clap of thunder, the crashing surf, the howling wind, the screeching of the magpie, the barking dogs, the screaming babies, the noisy stereo, and the loud motorcycle pipes. These are all pieces in Nature's orchestra. We can focus on one piece and be annoyed or listen to the whole symphony and enjoy being alive. The choice is ours.

Finding the soul of the machine
 One of my three bikes is an '82 Yamaha 550 Maxim. I've had it for about a year and a half and I've put about 20,000 miles on it. Today I finally learned how to ride it.

The 550 Maxim is a fun little bike to ride. It's fairly light, has an inline 4-banger and develops a little better than 50hp. That and the 6-speed transmition make it pretty quick off the line and gives it plenty of power for passing. I bought it as a project bike to resell in the Spring but just couldn't bear to part with it. It is a fairly high strung bike. Has a very small flywheel to allow for quick revs but dies off the line if you don't give it enough gas. It has a stutter in it if you give it too much gas with not enough revs and it starts to break up around 9,500 rpms. I've tried just about everything to get it to run the way I want. Rebuilt the carbs, replaced the ignition, different types of plugs, different grade of gas and so on. Finally I just decided to let the machine tell me how it wanted to be ridden.

I started paying real close attention to what worked best. How much gas to give it starting out, how quickly to let out the clutch, how fast I should accelerate and what engine speed to use for the shift points. Been doing that now for a couple weeks and today it finally all came together. I've developed a feel for the bike and today I had one of those perfect rides. Didn't go anywhere spectacular, just out of town to the southeast on some back roads. The bike just ran flawlessly. Engine was smooth as silk, shifting was as slick as a hot knife in butter and not a stumble or hesitation the whole ride. To top it off, when I pulled in for gas, I had exactly 100 miles on the odometer and it took exactly 2.000 gal. of gas.

My point is, you can work and work at trying to force a machine (or just about anything for that matter) to do exactly what you want it to do but there will always be some nagging problem that keeps popping up. Or, you can accept the machine for what it is, listen to it and become attuned to how it wants to run and it will become that perfect ride.

Riding is only half the fun
 I've developed a new habit since I started my "Journey of Self Discovery". In the evening after supper, instead of parking myself in front of the tube, I go out to the garage and park myself in front of one of my bikes. I've always enjoyed working on my own bikes but I used to do it more on an as needed basis. Now I'm being proactive about things. I've fixed all those little niggling things that I used to say "I'll get to that some day". I have everything adjusted and up to spec and I actually enjoy cleaning and polishing my bikes. Not because I like a shiney bike but it gives me an opportunity to go over every inch of the bike and look for things like loose bolts, frayed cables, etc. There is nothing finer than riding a bike that is perfectly tuned and adjusted to fit you like a glove. Now at night when I lay my head on the pillow, I feel a real sense of accomplishment and pride in an evening well spent.

Riding through a herd of deer
 I was out riding through the pine forests northeast of Elizabeth, Colorado. There's a nice loop road that some developer put in for a housing development that never seemed to get any houses. I enjoy riding the loop because it winds through some pines then goes out to a scenic view of the plains. There's never usually anyone out there except for today.

I came to a small clearing in the pines and there were about 25 deer off to the side of the road. I thought of stopping to take a picture but as soon as I put my foot down, they started to spook. I thought I'd just leave them be so I headed on down the road to enjoy the view. On my way back, the deer had moved so that they were grazing on both sides of the road. I've ridden through enough cattle herds on the open range that I new the best way to get through them without spooking them was to take it slow and easy, no sudden moves and just kind of glide on through.

It was fastinating. About half way through a big old battle scarred buck walks out onto the road in front of me. He was missing part of his right antler and had obviously been in some fights. He stopped in front of me and took a good look. I began to think he was going to challenge me but he decided I wasn't a threat and mozied on across the road. There were lots of wide eyed does watching me for a little bit, then they would go back to eating. There were feisty young bucks prancing around and off to one side was an old buck that had obviously passed his prime.

It really didn't take long to pass through the herd but the experience of seeing all those deer and how they related to each other was breathtaking. What a pleasant experience.