Progression

Man, it really creeps up on you, doesn't it?

A Look Over the Shoulder at 2013

The number 13 really does get a bad rap, doesn’t it?

For me personally, the past year alone did have a lot dark times spread about throughout it, in and out of motorcycling. My motorcycling world was rocked by two personal street accidents on my bike – the most I’ve had to date on public streets in a single year – mixed with tragedies striking personal riding idols from the local scene, right up to the international level that in some fashion have affected me as a rider. But you know what, I refuse to think of 2013 as a bad year for motorcycling – I just can’t be all mad when the bad was simply packaged with the good. I feel as if I was simply being tested in every level, to see if I still had the resolve to continue in something that has always consumed me.

What 2013 became for me then, is pivotal.

I saw respected riders I know at a personal level and even icons I admire as a fan, be severely marred or lose their life from the very sport that we all have been so equally passionate about. Twice I found myself suffering the consequences of mistakes that may or may not be my doing, from something as little as an ill-placed rock on a road I frequent, or a car that failed to see me in one of my many morning commutes to work I do on my bike.

But all of these were simply lessons for me to learn, which if learned then makes them invaluable lessons. To be reminded of my mortality and fragility in a sport that otherwise makes me feel like nothing can trouble me is what ensures longevity. And I’ve long realized that I am in this for the long run.

I took this photo because it dawned on me that on that very day,

the 31st of December, I was riding home for the final time in 2013.

Despite the hardest year of my riding career to date,

I was bringing it home.

 

I probably could’ve done without these trials – these tribulations that as a sport rider saw me hit the deck more than once, both emotionally and physically speaking, yet all equally taxing to my spirit. But the way I see it, I went toe-to-toe with 2013 for twelve full rounds, and while the year dealt some direct and heavy blows, I’m still standing, still here. Meanwhile, the year 2013 had to bow out, and exit the ring. Therefore, I win.

So as we should do on the road when changing lanes, a look over the shoulder is what I am giving the year of 2013. Because though it’s now passed, I need to be mindful of what I am moving on from to make sure nothing surprises me from behind, before I turn my head forward to focus on what’s laying ahead of me.

Bring it, Twenty Fourteen.

Oh, Behave!

This past Thanksgiving Day, I dropped off Belle and Stella to the airport so they can fly over to the in-laws in New Jersey for an early holidays celebration with them. Belle and I agreed that we would fly to the East Coast to be with her family for the holidays every other year, and since we did for last year's holidays, we're not due to do so again until next year's. But Belle being Belle, she decided to take Stella to the in-laws for 10-days this year, and me being myself, decided to stay behind with my first-born Rusty.

I dubbed that period of time my 10-day Hall Pass, free to do anything I want without the girls!

Halfway into my 10-day Hall Pass, and my buddy Trung and I exchanged the following texts:

Trung: "Your 10 day hall pass, any good?"
Me: "Go figure; I can do anything,
but I don't want to do anything!
Stupid irony!"
The house was quiet, but it was too quiet. Since winter is upon us, the temperatures have dropped, and it was hard for me to keep the house warm with just myself and Rusty, so the house heater saw frequent use when it otherwise wouldn't. I didn't have to go home right away every night after work, but I did. I didn't have to go to sleep as early as I would, but I did. And apart from after-work drinks with a co-worker one one weeknight, I didn't exactly capitalize on my hall pass.

I think this little one's got me whipped!

No babes I would encounter can hold a candle to this one!

Wrapping it Up

This past weekend Z2 Trackdays’ held our annual Thanksgiving weekend event at Thunderhill Raceway, which typically doubles as our final event of the season. For a November/December event, you could’ve been fooled into thinking it was just the start of the season with the unseasonably present and warm California sun basking us in golden glory.

What a way to close out one of the most exciting years of my life!

2013, you weren't such a bad year after all!



This season marked my first full season working as Grid and Recovery rew for Z2 Trackdays, a gig that I felt to be a natural progression for me as a trackday enthusiast, having been a participant for well over half a decade now. The day Z2 Trackdays asked me to join their crew was the day a new chapter in my motorcycling life started, a chapter I desperately needed to keep the passion I have for sport riding continue on for many more seasons. I felt like I was given the opportunity to create another level of enjoyment in something that I already have been enjoying.

I hope to build on this, having always wanted to be a trackday instructor. See, I’ve yet to actually race motorcycles; as big of a road racing fan as I am, from club racing to the world level of motorcycle competition, the urge was never strong enough in me to try and race a motorcycle. However, the desire to pass along whatever riding wisdom I’ve gained to newcomers of the sport, now that is a calling that I have been trying to meet, and I feel that being part of Z2 Trackdays’ family leads me that much closer to attaining that goal. And for that alone and the wonderful experience it has been this past season to work their trackdays, I cannot wait for the 2014 track season to begin.

Fortunately, the wait isn’t really that long. California winter really only puts our track riding off-season in December through January, before we can more or less start again some time in February. Still, that leaves quite a few long days and nights to wait it out.

It’s a good thing I have captured memories to get me through it all.

Moto Blogger

I've upkept this blog for over half a decade now, though I've been blogging for longer than that. Like I always have, I do this mainly for me, because I am the nostalgic type to want to read about my previous adventures from time to time. Like I wrote on a previous entry, it's always good to look back (or down) as you move forward (and up) to not forget where you came from and how you got to where you are. This will always remain the purpose for why I blog. So I remain to be the first and foremost audience for everything I write. In fact, I don't even know if anybody, or how many even gander at this blog.

Regardless, I wouldn't at all mind to be getting paid while doing it.

Riderzlaw.com recently added me to their roster of Northern California motorcycle bloggers; a collection of moto writers who submit their entries to Riderzlaw.com's website and their motorcycle blog section. I am effectively being paid to write about what I love to do, which is to ride. It was never my intention or dream to be able to say that, but I don't fail to recognize how this isn't something that everyone can lay claim to, especially with bloggers. The ratio of bloggers who get paid to do so against bloggers who want to be paid to do so must be so disproportionate, that I am appreciative to have been allowed this opportunity even if it only so casually happened.

I guess the power of the pen when pushed by one's passion can sometimes work wonders. :)

The Brass Knuckle

In 2008, I bought my dream bike - a 2000 Aprilia RSV Mille. I had never seen a bike look the way it does, and to my surprise, it rode and sounded every bit like the dream that I thought it would.

When I lost the bike in late-2008 following an on-track collision with another rider, I ended up replacing it with my 2002 Yamaha R1, a bike that I myself wrote I would NOT be in love with.

"I'm not saying I don't like the R1 nor think it's a fantastic machine, all I'm saying is that I don't think I'll be running to the garage at random times of the day just to ogle at it anymore…it will be liberating to just ride the machine and enjoy it." - Me, September 2008 

 

So much for that; I ended up building the R1 into my rolling homage to today's Superbikes. It's become the bike that I am eyeing to retire in my living room. 

 

So I've owned my dream bike, and I've built the bike of my dreams.
So what about this late-90's British street fighter?

My first chance at owning one came by finding a Craigslist ad for it that was well-below what its private party value should've been. It turned out to have substantial DMV back fees to go along with it. I ate the costs, as I was able to recoup a lot of it back from selling the ton of spare parts that came with the sale anyway, so it ended up being one of those steal-of-a-deals for me in the end!

But the bike, oh, let me tell you. It quickly became a favorite of mine to ride. I even wrote a mini-review about it; I had never done that for ANY of my bikes!

"I'm thoroughly convinced that there is no more perfect real-world engine than a triple. (It) is a real gem. The whole gearbox feels like ONE gear in how consistent each gear's characteristic and torque output is…and because of its flat torque curve, the bike thinks it's in a drag race in any gear every time you shift - you feel all that torque, no matter where you are in the powerband. It's omnipresent." - Me, May 2011

The core of any good brass knuckle.

If my RSV Mille and R1 are my diamonds in all the bikes I've owned, then the Speed Triple is the brass knuckle;  just as nice to get your hands on, but ultimately more useful in urban assaults.

 

I ended up trading in the Speed Triple for premium parts for my R1 that I NEVER thought I'd be able to get my hands on. I have no regrets about having done that, but I'm not going to lie - I really liked that Speed Triple and enjoyed the heck out of riding it.

Well, wouldn't you know it; lightning struck twice.

Last week, I picked up another one for $500, after the owner said that on his way to work that morning, the transmission just gave out. After racking up over 40,000 miles in his ownership, he didn’t want to bother having to sort it out, hence his price. I just happened to be the lucky one to respond to his ad first, so that very night, I picked it up.

I’m even luckier to have a friend who is a master motorcycle mechanic at his own shop (Evolution Motorcycles), where the bike now sits so that I can get myself back to urban assaulting with it.

I can't wait to rock the brass knuckle again.

Mitigation

What is the most effective method of mitigating riding risk?

Not riding at all.

But if you're like me, that's not an option. Not when you've found no other visceral vice and soulful salvation like twisting the throttle on a two-wheeled machine. So we accept that this is of a dangerous sport, of a lifestyle on borrowed time that stretches and thins out as dictated by our very own decisions. We could completely shun the risk - it is what it is and its price is what we pay to play. Or we accept that it's there, but we mitigate it, to wrestle some control over its chaos even if just on our side of the battle out in the world.

When I started riding over seven years ago, I rode year round for at least a couple of years through all four California seasons; through the long days of summer, through the early nights of fall and winter. I rode the bike as much as I could to and from work, and as a weekend recreational rider. If it was raining, I was that guy that wrapped my socked feet in plastic bags before slipping them in my boots (until I bought proper rain boots) to and from my work commute. I was that guy that packed a clear and smoked visor, to swap as needed when the night set earlier (smoked visor said “daylight use only” – it said!). When it got really cold to ride, it simply meant I didn't need coffee to wake up in the morning, thanks to the wind chill. California has year-long riding seasons; all four climates are perfectly fine for riding because its extreme temperatures, be it cold or warm, are hardly extreme compared to other parts of the world.

So I rode year round, all for the sake of riding year round. Then I stopped. Just like that.

When your morning commute looks like your evening commute,
the odds are stacking up against you.

I stopped riding to and from work late fall and through winter, when daylight was shorter and rain was more prevalent. I didn’t stop because I had an incident during these times of the year, or because it made for an extremely uncomfortable riding experience.  I just realized that it made riding riskier. It stacked the odds even more when it was already stacked to begin with; it was already hard enough for other motorists to see us in broad daylight, let alone in the dark. Then when you throw in the rain, well, all bets are off.

I didn’t mind moto-commuting year round, but I wanted to ride for many years to come, and so I felt that if I didn’t NEED to stack the odds against me, that maybe I shouldn’t. Mitigate, I figured. I do my time in my car commuting to work a quarter of the year – the riskier quarter of the year – and I ensure longevity in this lifestyle I practically devote my life to.

My battery tender does double time 'round this time of year.

When Daylight Savings Time ends, that's when my yearly self-preservation begins. This is about that time of the year when I put the bike(s) on a battery-tender. This is when I start to think more about riding than I do actual riding (also when I fire up the PS2 to play Tourist Trophy!). This is the time of the year when there is some absence that starts in me. But you know what they say about absence, right?

It simply makes the heart grow fonder.
And I am very fond of riding.

So I mitigate.