Reading Lee Parks' Total Control: High-Performance Street Riding Techniques over the last few days, I've come across a few things I ought to be working on. First and most importantly, on just about every turn I'm making on the road, I tend to keep my body semi-vertical, out of line with the bike itself. I'm also generally providing steering input with both hands simultaneously. When I focus on it and think about relaxing my outside arm and letting the inside one provide the corrections I need, I notice much faster turns, but when I'm not actively thinking about it, both my arms tend to tense up a bit, and most of my turn initiation seems to come from body lean. Hopefully it's something that will come with practice. I feel I'm getting to the point where I don't need to force myself to pay close attention to the really fundamental things; braking and shifting, for example, are finally starting to be unconscious actions - though I do still overrev a bit when shifting. Haven't stalled her in a while, and no more drops, thank god. For the first little while I had to keep chanting to myself "I'm in third, I'm in third, I'm in third, [shift], I'm in fourth, I'm in fourth..." and that's starting to get unconscious as well.

The nice thing about not having to focus so much on all of these things is that it frees up a lot of my mind for situational awareness. On my first few commutes to work I was constantly being startled by cars passing me, because I hadn't really expanded my car-tracking to contain the area behind me. You really take your rear-view mirror for granted after driving cars for so long, and it's been a bit challenging to adapt to the side mirrors. Still, getting better.

It just gets more and more fun as I get comfortable at higher speeds. I ride the same route every day, and every day I take the turns just a tad faster... Some of my buddies are going hiking in the Cascades this weekend, and I'm planning to ride up with them and get my first experience on the mountain roads. Wish me luck. :)

N00b-O-Meter: 425.5 miles

Noticed on this morning's ride how much I rely on audible clues for input on the bike's performance. I was stuck at a stoplight behind a tricked-out pickup truck with massive glasspack mufflers, and when the light turned green and the truck started to accelerate, it made a hell of a racket. I, of course, stalled Zoë out as soon as I tried to get underway. Twice. I guess I didn't open the throttle fast enough, but without being able to hear the engine I didn't know. I wonder how one deals with this? In related news, I really need to tear the fairing apart and put vibration-damping tape and rubber washers on the various connectors in there. Fairing buzz between (about) 3500 and 4500 RPM is a real annoyance, especially since I do a lot of my riding at that speed.

A lot of Total Control focused on the mental aspects of motorcycle riding, with an emphasis on Eastern-inspired martial and meditation techniques. Parks relates what racers call "being in the Zone" to the Zen concept of mu shin, "no mind;" existing completly in the moment, reacting almost unconsciously, emptying your mind of all conscious thought, etc. Obviously it's easier said than done. My college Aikido training dealt with this concept a little bit, but I'm sad to say I was never very good at it - I have always been a bit too cerebral for my own good.

Tried to focus a bit on this concept today, and just by paying attention to where my thoughts were going, I have come to realize that my mind really isn't completely in the ride. I need to work on this. Even humming a little song to myself (which I often find myself doing) pulls a part of my mind away from analyzing the surrounding and situation, and until I have a much stronger riding instinct, I think this is a dangerous way to ride.

N00b-O-Meter: 471.1 miles

Five or six of my buddies went up into the Mount Baker-Snoqualmie national forest yesterday, up Highway 2 out of Seattle, aiming for a quick little hike up in the Cascades. I figured this would be a great opportunity to get some time in on a more exciting road, so I followed them up to the trailhead on the bike. It was pretty much the perfect day for riding - just chilly enough that the armor wasn't uncomfortable to wear, only light traffic, dry road... Perfect. Highway 2 is an undivided two-lane but with relatively recent smooth pavement, and so very nice for riding. We started off just before 10 in the morning, and arrived at the Skykomish ranger station around 11:20.

Highway 2 has a fair number of turns; none of the 90-degree switchbacks you'd see on the smaller mountain roads, but enough nice sweepers, grade changes, and the like to keep things real interesting. On the way up, I pretty much hung out about five seconds behind my buddy Bruce's Camry and just focused on trying to pick smooth lines through the turns. I've noticed in my city riding that I tend to adjust my course all the way through the turns (according to Parks' book, the Brits call that "fifty-pencing" the turns after the polygonal shape of the fifty P coins) and while that's fine at low speeds, I get the feeling that it's a bad habit to get into. Held a pretty consistant 55-60 all the way up.

After getting out of Seattle and the surrounding exurbs, it really turned into a great ride; there's a smell to a high evergreen forest that I really love. Wet foliage, slightly acrid pine scent, a bit of that ozone-smell of coming rain. Up past Monroe and Sultan, Highway 2 follows the banks of the Skykomish River, and makes for some amazing views. There's started to be some rainfall in the Cascades although Seattle has remained relatively dry, and the Skykomish was running high. Really a beautiful ride and one I'll have to revisit.

After reaching the ranger station, my buddies' two cars headed off to the trailhead, and I took a quick water break before turning Zoë around and heading back home. I kept seeing spots on the way up that were just begging for a picture, and telling myself that I'd pull off there on the way back down, but as soon as I was freed of following the other cars, I opened the throttle up and headed down at a bit of a higher speed, and running those turns at 70 was enough of a rush that I completely forgot about pulling off. Ah well.

On a couple of the turns on the descent back to Seattle I misjudged my entry speed, came in a bit fast, and about a third of the way in really started to wonder whether the tires were going to hold. I mean, I never dragged a knee or anything of that sort. Intellectually, I know I'm nowhere near the limits of my bike, and I'm sure I was planted solid every time, but all the same - there's a level of emotional response that kicks in when you realize that your line isn't quite right, and you're drifting a little bit toward the edge of the lane, and your gut reaction really is to scrub a little bit of speed with the brakes - it's very hard to override that, keep on accelerating, and add some lean. I think more faith in the bike than I currently possess is required, and I guess that just comes with experience. I hope, at least, it will come. The one single turn where I came out of it with my heart racing and the sure knowledge that any moment I'd feel the rear tire break free pounding through my mind really left me a bit shaken. But I held the turn and kept slowly rolling on the throttle, and I came out at 75 instead of the 70 I was aiming for, and everything was fine.

On the way down I saw probably a hundred bikers, alone or in small groups, along with one big contingent of Harley riders probably 25 strong. Lots of pickups with dualsports and dirtbikes in the back. I guess there was some Labor Day event up past Stevens Pass? The sailor in me is really coming to love the comraderie of the motorcycle community, the waving and all that. I'm still surprised by how many folks respond when I drop a hand to them.

This bike can do more than I give her credit for, I think. I just need to build up my faith in her. Slowly. :)

N00b-O-Meter: 608.4 miles

Yesterday was my first experience with rush-hour traffic - realized when I left home that I'd forgotten about a meeting that morning, and didn't have the hour I needed to have a leisurely cruise down Locust Way. That left I-5, right at 8:30 AM, heading into Seattle. Heavy traffic - enough that folks were weaving around a lot, but not enough to really slow the pace much below 65.

Heavy traffic freeway riding is very intimidating. Mostly, mentally fatiguing - constantly evaluating every vehicle on the road, and wondering "does he see me? does she see me?" The required 2-second following distance leaves a very large gap at freeway speeds, into which others tend to constantly merge, such that position is constantly being adjusted to accomodate new vehicles. And, of course, things happen quite a bit faster at those speeds. I got to work in about 20 minutes, safely, but I didn't enjoy myself at all. I'll take the longer, exciting run down Locust any day.

This morning I was stuck for some time behind a well-dressed 30-something woman in a newish black Jetta, putting on her makeup with both hands while driving and generally being a menace to everyone around her. I really wish sometimes that I had a "Hey, Idiot!" sign that would pop out from my fairing as needed... At least I was behind her, where I could see her and react to her idiocy. It's the thought of drivers like that behind me that's unnerving.

In other news, I've turned Comments on. If you're reading this, I'd appreciate it if you'd drop a note in the comments section - I'm curious if anyone is actually out there.

N00b-O-Meter: 713.3 miles

Well, a couple more days of freeway riding under my belt. Yesterday morning I learned that there's a window within which I should never try to get to work, when every lane on I-5 is stop-and-go, including the HOV lane (which cycles can use in Washington state). No fun at all. Nothing like standing, motionless, breathing diesel fumes and waiting for whatever the hell is holding up traffic to subside.

After work yesterday I had a few hours of rehearsal time with a group of my buddies that's singing at a friend's wedding, and by the time that was done it was late. I'd never ridden at night, and as I was growing hungry I got back on I-5 to head home. The freeway was pretty much empty, it being late evening, and though the wind was high and gusty, it was a much more enjoyable time than my previous freeway rides. Plenty of room to wind Zoë out a bit. Speeds feel much faster in the dark; I wonder if it's the lack of a good fixed horizon to orient on, and only the small area of your headlights rushing down at you? Regardless, night riding seemed very enjoyable - it was similar, somehow, to the experience of being on a small boat at sea, out of sight of the land. Your world seems to contract a bit - everything you can sense is right around you in the little bubble of your lights, and then just darkness out to infinity.

Well, not quite, but something like that. Taillights of all the other cars do seem to spoil the illusion, and it's really important to keep your perception active and have the warning you'd need to avoid a collision with whatever's out there... But you'll have to grant me my rare moments of poetic inspiration.

Yet again, more freeway this morning. I'm not at the point of weaving between lanes, dodging traffic, and driving 30 over the limit like some of the other sportbikers I've seen around here, and I don't plan to ever get to that point. But I'm starting to modify my feelings of utter terror on the superslab to merely feelings of concern, and that's a good thing. Confidence, within reason, seems like a hell of an important survival skill on a cycle.

N00b-O-Meter: 771.4 miles

No riding yesterday; Saturday was project day at Req's house. I've been thinking of installing a set of foglights on Zoë for a bit of increased night vision; I've no idea how much difference it will make, but it looked to be an easy project, a chance to get under the fairing and explore, etc. I didn't want to pay the $400 or so that most commercial cycle fog light kits are charging, so I went with the time-tested "buy cheap stuff and spend six hours soldering" strategy.

I got a pair of Navigator "Crystal-Rod" fog lights from Pep Boys for $25 or so. They were a lot smaller than the others, and had a nice solid black aluminum housing with a pretty small forward lens. They fit standard 55W halogen lamps. Mounting brackets were 3" corner braces from Home Depot, drilled out to fit on the upper engine guard mounting bolts - I still ought to pull these off and lacquer them black to fit with the guard and lights. Got a 12V relay to switch the fog lights, as I wanted them to trigger off the high beam circuit but not draw current from it.

As I wanted to keep all the assorted wiring under the seat, I tapped a short length of 14ga wire into the input end of the high-beam fuse and from there to the relay. Power to the relay straight from the battery, and from there power out to the lights. Ground for the relay and the lights came seperately back to the battery.

As the system's currently set up, the fog lights trigger only off the highbeams; if the brights are on, so're the fog lights, and only then. If I can find a good waterproof handlebar switch, I'd like to tap the low-beam fuse as well, and switch the relay trigger so it either triggers off the brights or the normal beams. As normal is always on, that'll basically let me switch the fogs independantly. Ought to be more useful. For right now, though, this works well.

While I was at it, I figured it was time to clean and lube the chain. I sprayed it down really well with Honda Contact/Brake Cleaner, and I guess I used a bit too much as almost all the can is gone this morning. Gave the stuff awhile to dry, 15 minutes or so, and then finished up with Honda Performance Chain Lube (the stuff in the red can). So that's another 600 miles before I have to worry about it.

Hopefully a longer ride this afternoon...

Ladies and gents, this will be my last post with a N00b-O-Meter at the bottom - not to say I'm no longer a newbie, but I'm passed my original milestone goal of a thousand miles. Very exciting.

Last Saturday's ride took me up Highway 2 out east of Seattle. That's the same route I drive when I'm going snowboarding in the winter, as it leads up to Stevens' Pass, 4000' above sea level. Thinking about it, I realized I was regretting not getting over the pass, so I went out again today with that goal in mind. It rained yesterday and last night, and though the forecast wasn't for rain today, the air was damp and there was a thick bank of heavy cloud hanging at about 3500'.

The ride up was amazing. A bit too cold as the elevation increased - I am thankful I decided against the mesh jacket this morning - but wonderful vistas as the clouds met the mountains, filling the little valleys and spilling out over the edges. You'd look up from the valley floor and see white nothingness, and then a clear patch would pass and there'd be the evergreens that cover the Cascades. The wind was pretty calm once I was up into the foothills. Climbing up into the cloud layer cut the visibility down quite a bit - still plenty to be safe, maybe a half-mile or so - but enough that when the highway curved along exposed edges as I approached the Pass, to one side I'd see grey stone and to the other, nothing. Grey abyss.

Once over the pass I was in an area of Washington that I've never seen. Highway 2 drops off toward Eastern Washington's lowlands. There's a bit more of a California feel to the vegetation on the eastern side; more bare rock and low scrub than the rainforest we see on the coast. The road's twisty, though not as much as the way up, and with many more long, sweeping turns as it descends. I followed it down out of the mountains and stopped at a rest area to stretch and get a drink of water.

From there I headed back. The less time spent describing the return trip, the better - suffice to say that Seattle's traffic problems are spreading beyond the city, and there was a 20-mile stretch of sustained 4-5mph. Very tiring. I never knew my elbows could get this sore.

It's clear to me that the confidence I've built on my previous rides has been a great thing. I didn't take the ride any faster this time, but focused on being smooth and deliberate, on keeping my head and my thoughts together, and on my breathing. There weren't any white-knuckled moments on this ride, except when a 40' motorhome tried to merge into me in the traffic hell of the return trip. The fault was partially mine, though - I was to his right, in Position 1 (the left of the lane), and very difficult for him to see. In retrospect I should have been further from him - his blind spots are huge. Chalk up one more lesson learned.

No pictures this time, unfortunately. My camera's battery went down for the count. Next time, I promise.

N00b-O-Meter: 1007.3 miles

Yesterday, updating with the story of my 1K ride, I forgot to mention the finest image I've yet seen on my bike. Coming through Sultan, a small town east of Seattle on 2, I passed an older BMW touring cycle coming at me on the other side of the road. Both folks aboard were dressed in full leathers and little half-lids. The driver, who I barely saw behind her towering windscreen, was a woman in her 40s, dark-haired. The passenger, holding on tightly to her waist, looked exactly like the long-haired blonde fellow from Spinal Tap. He had a tremendous grin on his face and funny little bike goggles, and his terrible wavy 80's rocker hair was streaming out behind him. I could easily imagine him screaming out the lyrics to "Sex Farm" at a legion of shrieking teenage fans.

For the next half-hour of the ride, I had one Spinal Tap song or another stuck in my head.

I'm feeling a little bit confused about this whole cycling thing. The part that's really getting to me is how confident I feel about the whole thing. I know that my primary weakness is still the crawling-speed maneuvering, but when I'm riding at speed - even just 10mph or so - the operation of the bike is already mostly transparent to me. Internalized, I guess. I'm not thinking through the steps of shifting, as a process, anymore, for example - I'm thinking "shift up" and the rest just happens. I feel like I'm really in control of my ride. I'm concentrating on the road and the other drivers and the environment around me, and I'm feeling pretty good about the whole thing. Occasionally I have a bit of a surge-y shift, or have to readjust my line a little while in a turn, but by and large I feel really good about this.

Now, I know I haven't mastered this thing - by a long shot - but I continue to wonder. Am I in control, or am I blind to what's really going on? Am I competant at this, or am I overconfident? Am I accurately assessing my skills? I'm just surprised by how much - well - less-difficult this seems, compared to what I expected.

Discussing this with my girlfriend (who is not a rider), her initial instinct is that the skills required of a cycler - mechanical intuition, wide perception, threat assessment and avoidance, balance, etc - are things that I've always found to be relatively strong suits. But I don't know. I don't want to get overconfident; I know that's the quick road to getting in over your head. But I don't want to sell myself short either. I want to be able to have a good, clear idea of what I can do, what my strengths and weaknesses are, what I need to work on and what I can be proud of. And I don't rightly know how to figure this out.

Anyone?

Ask anyone in the US what comes to mind when they think of Seattle, and I'll give good odds they'll either mention Nirvana, the Space Needle, or rain. (Or possibly, "those damn liberals" if you ask an angry Southerner.) It rains here. A lot. All the damn time. So you'd think that would mean Seattlites have an idea of how to drive in the rain. You'd be wrong, at least in the first week of rain after summer. It seems everyone spends the summer luxuriating in the beautiful warm weather, and when the sky goes grey again, everyone's forgotten the skills they hone in the other 9 months of the year.

Yes, today felt like the first day of winter - grey and cold, around 50 degrees, and drizzling when I got out this morning. I couldn't come up with a good excuse not to just go ahead and ride, though - if I won't ride in the rain, I won't be riding much at all, 'round here - and so I put the liners in my gear for the first time, pulled the cover off Zoë, and off I went. And despite what I expected, it wasn't that bad.

The primary problem, of course, is the difficulty of seeing and being seen. We don't have the torrential downpours you might find elsewhere; Seattle rain is more of 9-month-long drizzle, and so visibility isn't that bad. All the same, I was glad of my extra lights (which I've rewired to be always-on, rather than tied to the brights). There is the problem of rain beading up on your visor; quickly turning your head to one side and then the other can clear a lot of it off in the windstream, if you're moving fast. Traction didn't feel all that much affected, but then I didn't try an emergency stop or a peg-dragging corner, where I guess it would show up most strongly. Nevertheless, I left a grossly huge following distance on the highway and played it pretty safe.

Gear held up well. The Comet jacket, Freeway gloves, and Solution boots are more than waterproof enough for this kind of rain. The pants - well, they're not perfect. I noticed some definite leakage at a few points along one of the seams. They're also really cold, but tight enough that there's only room for longjohns or something under 'em if the liner's in. For a half-hour commute it's not a killer, but I'm pretty sure I'll need to look for something else for longer rides (HT Overpants from Firstgear come pretty highly recommended).

On the plus side, even though I got into work later than usual, there were plenty of cycle spots open in the parking lot. I guess a lot of the riders stick to the dry weather. Time will tell...

In totally unrelated news, I took my sailing GPS along on the ride to get an idea of how accurate my speedo is. I'd heard a lot of chatter that the Bandit's instrumentation is quite "optimistic," and it looks like it's true. At around-the-town speeds it's not off by much - 30 indicated is probably 28.5 true - but as you pick it up, the error gets magnified. 70 indicated is really around 63. I've heard that when you really push it, the error gets massive. Wonder why that is? It can't be that tough to make an accurate speedo...

Another beautiful day's ride today. Had practice with my real vocal group this morning - we're doing a very challenging winter concert and so there's a lot of work to be done, and the tenor section is very, very small. One of the three tenor 2's is me, and so there's no-one to hide behind when you don't know your part... Rode in this morning in heavy about-to-rain air, but it stayed dry all day. The freeway was pretty much empty at 8:30 on a Saturday morning.

After practice it was off to Seward Park in south Seattle for a friend's wedding reception, at which a group of my buddies was to sing a few songs. Certainly nothing serious. I rarely venture into the south end and I don't know the streets, so I tailed a buddy on the way down. South Seattle is a bit less affluent than most of the city, and the condition of the streets definitely shows it. Lots of bumps, jaggies, and potholes. Good practice in keeping my ab and back muscles tight, tying the weight of my body to my center rather than through my arms leaning on the handlebars bars, and keeping my elbows bent to absorb shocks. This position also makes it easier to isolate the inside arm in turns, rather than using both and opposing yourself. I know my standard riding position needs to incorporate more of this; I need to lean forward a bit more and not lock my arms, but it's a tough habit to break.

Played a bunch of volleyball in my motorcycle boots. They really make it hard to jump. It's not like I'm good at the game by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm a lot better in athletic shoes than I am in heavy waterproof leather boots.

On the ride home I scared a pedestrian. I am still berating myself for this. She had entered a crosswalk and I knew I had plenty of room to make my turn ahead of her, and I didn't even think about it; I just went. It was fine, of course, but I don't want to become the kind of rider who does things like that. Just because I can make it doesn't mean I should. Pausing and letting her finish her crossing would have cost me maybe 10 seconds. If I had misjudged my lean or my speed, her presence cut off half my maneuvering room - to say nothing of what would have happened if she'd sped up after I entered the turn. I didn't even realize that I was pissed off at myself for maybe three blocks.

That kind of put a damper on the good spirits of the rest of the ride. All the same, I convoyed for a good while on I5 with a Gold Wing rider and a Harley man, and near home saw another few groups of riders. One of these was a threesome; two on Hayabusas (black and red), and someone on what I think was one of the bigger Ninjas. Lot of riders out today. Everyone wants that one last ride before the rainy season comes, I suppose.

Tomorrow, if it's moderately pleasant, I think I'll take the Edmonds ferry to the Olympic Peninsula and do some riding out there.

No riding today, despite the beautiful weather. Ever since Zoë and I met, there's been a startling decline in the amount of housework that's been getting done. I have a long list of projects and nothing's happened on that list since late July. So, sadly, I spent the day running between home and Home Depot, cleaning and building and generally being productive. I guess the road trip will have to wait.

On the plus side, my Volvo still starts, after its month sitting motionlessly in my driveway.

So today I learned, quite clearly, the value of a 2-second following distance. I also learned that I'm going to try for a lot more, in the future. Cruising back home after work on I5, traffic was heavy but still movin' pretty well - 50 to 60. I had made my way over to the HOV lane and was toolin' along behind a white Lexus, just a touch over 2 seconds back. There was a smaller green SUV, I think a Toyota RAV4, behind me. Pavement was dry, visibility was perfect: there could be no better conditions.

Suddenly and inexplicably, the car ahead of the Lexus put on its brakes hard. Of course the Lexus followed suit. When I saw the first car slow I was off the throttle, covering the brakes and clutch, waiting to see whether this was a "tap the brake lights" or a real stop, and it turns out it was the real thing. I got on the brakes - no grabbing but a semi-smooth application of front and rear, started to slow, and had the distinct impression that it wasn't going to be enough. I wasn't thinking at this point, just reacting.

I then felt my rear tire do - something. I don't know if it was a rear skid or if the tire lifted; all I know is the rear felt like there was no resistance on it and the bike started to slew a bit to the right. I'd guess it had lifted, if I had to, from the feeling of the bike's center of gravity moving forward. I held the rear brake in case it was a skid and tried to keep everything balanced on the front as best I could. Came to a bit of an unsteady stop about 10' from the Lexus' bumper, and managed to avoid dropping the bike. I did stall it, though; hadn't gotten on the clutch, for better or for worse.

About this point I started to feel very frightened. In the matter of seconds in which I was doing anything, I was too busy to really fear, but the instant my feet touched down and stopped the bike I realized what a close call that had been. Got her started up again and got moving, dropped back 10 or fifteen seconds from the Lexus, and tried to calm myself down.

I think I need to find a way to practice some stops from higher speeds. I've never practiced an emergency stop above probably 30, and whether I did everything right or not, I didn't feel comfortable doing it. It's tough to find a place where I can get up to speed and then brake, though, without being a hazard to someone. Regardless, I see some more parking-lot time in my future.

Today, coming north through the U District on the way to I-5, some tool in a little blue Celica (I think) decided running a red light would be a good idea. He was to the right of me, heading west toward the express lanes to downtown. He actually came to a complete stop at the light, looked (right through me, actually), and then smoothly accelerated out into the intersection. He wasn't turning, just cutting straight across. I was moving at about 30-35, and had just entered the intersection when he moved.

I panicked. Too many things all at once: hit the horn, get on the brakes, get off the gas, and swerve. The horn did the trick; Idiot McToolenstein hit the brakes and threw up his arms in a clear "What the fuck, man? Why are you cutting me off?" gesture, to impress his girlfriend I think. The swerve and the braking at the same time, though, wasn't good. I felt the front tire lock for a terrifying fraction of a second. As soon as the weight transfer forward happened, it spun up again, but for a moment there I knew I was going to go down. From everything I've read, if you lock that tire, you're done. I'm still a little bit surprised that I rode out of there.

I swerved left aiming to cut in front of him, and assuming he'd hear my horn and at least not accelerate. I guess that was a safer decision than to aim behind him - but if he hadn't heard the horn, hadn't slowed, I think I would have gone right into his front quarter. The fact that I was on my brakes as well really limited me; I scrubbed a lot of speed but was still moving when I reached him. If I hadn't braked at all, I don't think it would have improved my options any; I couldn't go behind him without riding up onto the sidewalk, and there wasn't room to stop before reaching him... This time I know I did the right thing, although I should have separated the swerve from the braking; gotten off his line before slowing. I am positive that only luck saved me from a ride on the concrete, when the tire locked. Another half-second before coming hard on the front brake would have prevented it, I think.

I have no idea why he didn't see me, other than the general "motorcycles are invisible" thing. I wasn't speeding; there was plenty of light; no obstacles; no sunset; I had both headlights and both driving lights lit; I was in full reflective gear. I can't think of anything I could have done differently before he came out, and once he did I think I was pretty much out of options...

I hope this isn't something that happens every time. I haven't had a real "close call" since I started riding, and then all of a sudden I get yesterday's emergency-braking and today's situation. I've been searching and searching and I can't find anything I could have done differently.

This is worrying.

Nothing much to report this time, but I know my fervant fans will grow worried if I go to long without posting, especially given the events of the last two posts. Never fear, gentle readers, all is well.

Beautiful rides today. Had to venture into the city for a scientific meeting in the morning, and then back to the UW around noon. The nice thing about the freeway at noon, here, is that there ain't nobody else there. After all the traffic-riding I'm used to on I5, it was a joy to see four lanes of empty road. Heading home from work now, and hoping to beat the Friday rush.

With luck I can get out of the city this weekend, hopefully to the Peninsula. I've got me a copy of Destination Highways Washington and there's a bunch of suggested rides in there that have me pretty stoked about getting away and trying someplace new.

Today's trip was a smashing success. I left home later than I'd planned this morning, around 11, after doing some last-minute foglight bulb changes - the halogens are blowing out, like, every couple of days, which is a hassle at $9 a bulb. Yesterday I spent a couple hours wrenching; changed the oil and oil filter, and the spark plugs. Changing the plugs actually made a really big difference in Zoë's power output; she idles much more smoothly and power comes on quicker when I open her up. Anyway, all good stuff.

It was a perfect day. I'm really wondering when the winter's going to show up; today was warm and cloudless. The trip plan was the Edmonds-Kingston ferry over to the Olympic Peninsula, then follow Hwy 104 to Hwy 101, turn south to Quilcene, and ride the well-recommended section of 101 between Quilcene and Hoodsport (DH22 if you're following along in your copy of Destination Highways Washington). Taking a bike onto the ferries up here is awesome. You just show up, give the man your $5.80, go straight to the head of the line, and off you go. In a car, on a summer Sunday, you can expect to wait two hours in line. Here's a bunch of us bikers heading West on the ferry this morning:

That part of 101 starts (at the north end) winding through the Olympic National Forest; heavily wooded evergreens and steep mini-mountains. As you head south out of the Quilcene range, 101 works its way to the edge of Hood Canal, a good-sized estuary of Puget Sound a couple of miles wide according to my map - big enough that the Navy has a ballistic missile sub base here. Great vistas out over the Canal and up into the mountains.

Anyway, a wonderful ride. Traffic was pretty light and I made good time. The only annoying part about this trip is the irrational speed limit changes all over the place. I almost blundered past a lurking state patrolman coming through the town of Eldon, but a nice Harley rider coming the other way flashed his brights at me in warning, and by the time I reached the officer I was safely below the limit.

Ate lunch in Hoodsport at the scenic Model T Pub & Eatery, which was much more a pub than an eatery - the waitress sadly informed me that she couldn't get me a burger because "the hamburger machine was broken" - but good nonetheless. My options at this point were to retrace my steps, or take a different and much less interesting and longer route south through Shelton and Olympia, back to I5. I turned around.

Destination Highways lists, in addition to their Destination Highways, a large number of shorter routes they call Twisted Edges. There happened to be one of these routes coming off 104 at Quilcene and heading back to the Hood Canal Bridge (DH22 TE-B, Dabob Rd - Coyle Rd - Thorndyte Rd - S Point Rd) and I threw that into the mix for the way back. Talk about remote. This route heads through a very heavily wooded part of the Toandos Peninsula that's given over mostly to tree farms for the paper industry, and along these roads you can go some time between seeing any cars. Also, twisty as hell. Major elevation changes, 10-mph s-curves, the works. I'll file this route as something I need to hit again.

I am always amazed by the folks I meet riding around. There was an older couple on a giant Kawasaki version of the Gold Wing, that had come most recently from Indiana. A large contingent of Christian Harley riders, a bunch of other Suzuki pilots on several Hayabusas, Gixxers, and an SV1000S. Chatted on the ferry with one Harley rider about the little bell (about a half-inch long) he had affixed to his frame; he told me it warded off evil spirits from making his bike break down. I asked if it worked, and he replied that he hadn't broken down yet, so he reckoned so. Apparently you can't buy those; you have to have a mentor gift gift one to you. Cool tradition.

I'd stopped at one point to take a picture, and during that time three groups of riders passed me, and the lead rider in each group gestured to me "are you okay? do you need help?" If my car was on the side of the road, I know not one driver in a hundred would think to stop and help. Riders really are a whole different breed.

All in all, about 140 miles today, and a really great time. If you're in the area, ride this route, it's awesome. And come to think of it, send me an email, and I'll come ride it again.

(and here's the best named river in Washington State: the Hamma Hamma. Please Hamma, don't hurt 'em!)

By the way, I've revamped the right-hand navigation bar on this site and added a page with a little bit of info 'bout myself. So if you want to meet the man behind the legend, now's your chance. You'll get the whole seat, but you'll only need the edge.

So the zipper on my Joe Rocket jacket is already starting to fail. I guess the teeth are getting misaligned or something of the sort. I basically need a pair of pliers to get it all the way up or all the way down, which is pretty depressing. It still works, it's just a hassle to get the thing on or off. Guess I'll be looking to Firstgear when it's time for a new one.

In other news, a green Land Rover tried to merge into me on the freeway this morning. Not a big deal at all; he obviously wasn't looking for me, but I was looking for him. Saw him moving into my lane, dumped some throttle on and I was gone. The HOV lane is really nice that way; since there's no traffic to your left, you can stay far over on the edge of the lane and only have to keep an eye on one side of you. That gives you a lot of maneuvering room if someone tries something stupid, and you've got the shoulder as an escape route if you need it. Being in the middle lane of the freeway is a much more stressful environment; I'll take the HOV anyday. Plus, of course, it's faster.

Here is a very interesting analysis of proper emergency braking technique carried out by some very determined Canadians. It's nice to see some actual data, rather than the usual assumptions of what works and what doesn't. I do wonder why they built a giant wooden box on the back of their test bike to hold a full-sized G4 Mac when they could easily have used a little laptop, but I guess they do things differently up north. Check it out.

Well, it looks like the rain's a'comin'. The weather forecast calls for rain pretty much every day for the next 10. Rain, and gusty winds. Today's ride in was a bit challenging as the crosswinds pushed me around in my lane a fair bit. I'm still working on adjusting my riding position, trying to add just enough crouch to get my forearms horizontal and relaxed, scoot myself back and up in the seat, and get my crotch off the tank, and hopefully getting this stance issue resolved will help a bit in reducing my windage. I'm also beginning to look into getting a new pair of riding pants for the wet weather; the AlterEgo's are really quite uncomfortable with the liner in, as it's non-breathable, and there's no room for a layer of street clothes underneath if the liner's in place. NewEnough has the Firstgear HT Overpants on sale, so that's something.

In other (non-moto) news, I shaved my head yesterday. Was planning to just trim my hair back, but as I was prepping the clippers I happened to notice the razor sitting next to 'em, and just decided to see what would happen. It was a lot harder than I expected, and I cut the hell out of myself. Turns out wearing a helmet on a shorn head is really uncomfortable, so I had to break down and get myself a headscarf. It's black with red kanji on it - it was that or a giant American flag (no) or red or blue flames (no) or an eagle clutching some arrows over a Harley logo (no!). I can't tell whether I look like a total poser, or a dangerous, dangerous man.

Probably the former, actually.

Looks like the ride home is going to be an exciting one. The 520 Bridge wind-sensor is reporting gusts upwards of 30kts from the southwest. It may be an evening to stay off I-5 and take the long way home. It's raining, too, so double the excitement.