Quitting Street Sport Riding (expounding)

Fitting track tires tot he R1 for the last time, indefinitely.

Following one of my latest entries when I wrote about hanging up street sport riding on my R1, I thought I’d just expound on that decision since writing it over a week ago. Understandably, one could think that I may have acted (or reacted) rather cavalier over something that has been a very integral part of my life – enjoying spirited sport riding in some of Northern California’s best motorcycle roads – that maybe I should’ve given myself a day or two after the incident before I decided on how the experience should’ve impacted me. Admittedly, the next few days after the incident, I was extremely distracted, finding myself going by my day-to-day tasks like a functioning junkie – I was present, but not really.

But to be honest, a week later and I’m still at peace with the decision that I made.

Those that know me know that I’ve always intended to “ride my R1 to the ground.” Even for all the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve put to turn my R1 into the bike that I would gladly retire in my living room, I never did have the heart to not ride it, so I decided that the only way I would retire it was if something so catastrophic happened to it, that I would be better off turning it into my living room trophy. It just so happens that no matter how many times the bike and I have hit the deck – and there have been quite a few – the bike just keeps getting back up with me, ready for more.

But what if I never get to ride the R1 to the ground? What if I end up riding myself to the ground first?

It was a profound experience to have looked over a fallen rider, myself standing over them in my own riding gear. It was a snapshot, a reflection of what could be the only thing left for me if I continued on with what I was doing. Because for all the experience, abilities, and skills I have in operating my sport machine on the street, and even if my spirited pace on public roads isn’t even half of what I do on a racetrack, the fact that I have been able to ride away and come home from the accidents I’ve had can only be pinned down to one resounding fact:

Luck.

That’s all I’ve been – lucky.

Everybody has made and will make mistakes on a motorcycle. But on the street, it isn’t necessarily the mistake that can hurt you – it’s what could be out there waiting for your mistake. If it isn’t an oncoming vehicle, perhaps it’s a guard-rail. If it’s not a guard-rail, then it could be a tree. If it’s not a tree, it could very well be a steep ravine to fall into. And believe me, I’ve known of riders passing away due to every one of those things I’ve written.

I’ve even known of riders who got killed for NOT making a mistake – they were simply a victim of someone else’s mistake.

At Sonoma Raceway on the 20th; if not out on a racetrack, the R1 will be garaged.

By all means, I’m not trying to discourage anyone from riding the street, spirited or otherwise, and even I’m not swearing off street riding entirely, just on this R1. This is a personal decision that only I will live with, and it may not even be something I can live with for long.

Either way, I’m at peace now.