10 things they never told you about becoming a motorcycle rider

[OreoGaborio]

Heh...

So, after months of nothing but Ramen Noodles, you’ve saved up enough loose change to put down a deposit on your first motorcycle. An exciting new world with leather jackets and without traffic, right? Sure, but there some other…stuff, too. Stuff no one else has told you about becoming a biker.

1. Bees & Animals
Bees are a pretty innocuous creature, so long as they’re in the backyard. Sure, if you hassle them, you might get stung, but in general, they leave you alone if you leave them alone. Get on a motorcycle, though, and the humble bee is transformed into a weapon of mass destruction.

At anything over 10mph, a bee in the face/neck/any exposed body part will feel — and this isn’t an exaggeration at all — like you’ve just been shot with a rubber bullet. And, in its final throes, the bee will sting you. Probably in the face, because it’s trapped inside your helmet.

All of that takes place while you’re attempting to operate a relatively complex machine in busy traffic with absolutely nowhere to pull over safely.

Bees have also evolved the extraordinary ability to find gaps in your waterproof, hermetically sealed riding suit that nothing else, not even a drop of water, can penetrate. The bee will always find a way. Normally, it’s around your neck, plunging down your chest and stinging you as many times as possible before your frantic self flagellation manages to squash it. But sometimes, it’ll find its way in around your waistband, then proceed to sting you on the genitalia. Really, this does happen and likely will happen at some point in your riding career. Car drivers will pass by flummoxed by the odd, leather-clad man frantically stripping on the roadside while hopping around with a swollen face.

Animals, too, have been put on this planet for the specific purpose of performing Kamikaze missions on passing motorcyclists. In rural areas, deer will wait in the roadside undergrowth, listening for the approach of a bike. At the very last second, when it’s far too late for you to take evasive action, they’ll fling themselves into your path, or maybe just leap straight for your head.

Even domestic animals like to get in on the act. Cats will test your reflexes by bolting from underneath cars to underneath your wheels. Dogs will feel it’s their duty to hunt you down.

2. You’re Now An Expert Meteorologist
Forget the TV weatherman, you’re going to develop a better ability to read weather radar maps, cloud formations and wind patterns than anyone with an actual degree in the field. And that’s because the weather is now absolutely critical to your day-to-day life.

Can you make it home from work before the storm hits? If so, what’s your latest time of departure, chosen route and necessary average speed to make that possible?

Will it dip below freezing on your commute tonight? If so, should you pack your heated gloves or is the ride short enough for simply your heavy duty winter ones?

Is the rain today going to be light, meaning you can get away with leather or heavy, meaning you need that Bibendum suit?

Slicks, road tires, intermediates or full wets at the track day next week? You’d better know for sure, because that deposit is non refundable and it takes four days for tires to arrive.

3. Say Goodbye To A and B
Before you had a motorcycle, you always tried to find the quickest and most direct way to get around. In a car or truck, it was efficient and practical to do so. Now that you have a bike, you’ll be willing to go 100 miles out of your way to visit a store or restaurant that has the same stuff as the one in your neighborhood. You’ll find yourself with entire States between you and home, amongst strangers and in strange places that you never knew existed, just because. You’ll tell your family you’re just going out for a quick ride, then return hours, sometimes days later, not entirely sure where you have been. And it won’t matter, because you were riding.

4. Manholes, Paint and Tar Snakes
Utility companies go around placing large, slick metal plates in the road, precisely where motorcyclists need to ride or, in intersections, put their foot down. In the dry, that’s no big deal. But, in the rain? A wet manhole (no s******ing, please) becomes a deadly skating rink. Put a foot on one and your boot instantly slips, meaning you’ll drop your bike. Hit one while turning and you’ll be laying on the ground.

Road markings take on a new life in the wet, too. Nearly as slippery as manhole covers, they can make the back end of your bike weave around as the tire hunts for traction. Even under the gentlest of acceleration.

And then there are tar snakes: cracks in the road filled with liquid tar. In the winter, that tar freezes and becomes strips of black ice. In the summer, it melts and feels pretty much the same. The cracks they’re installed to patch tend to be in the heaviest sections of wear on the road. You know, like the apex of a corner or downhill, approaching a corner, where you want to be braking. They couldn’t have been designed to catch you by surprise any better.

5. Friends & Strangers
So scrimped and saved to buy your first bike, and now your friends are going to want in on the action too. No, not by going out and buying their own, but using your new pride and joy. Most are just going to want to pose for a new Facebook profile picture on it, but some are going to swear riding competency and want to take it around the block. Don’t let them, they’ll inevitably return holding only a par of (now detached) handlebars and a story about how it’s not their fault.

Complete strangers will start approaching you, too. Normally old men, who will want to recount stories of the old Triumph or Norton they once rode. They’ll tell how your bike reminds them of it. Well, until they realize your bike is Japanese, at which point they’ll look shocked and walk away.

6. You Become A Better Car Driver
Before you bought your bike, you were content to be a sheep. You’d complain, of course, other people’s driving was never as good as your own, but you were seemingly powerless to do anything about it. You just say stuck in the flow, merrily texting and tailgating away.

But now that you’ve ridden a bike? You’re suddenly hyper aware. Not just of the risks and the bad driving and that nasty pothole six corners ahead, requiring a specific line begun now to avoid, but of the utter ridiculousness of it all. That guy in the $100,000 Porsche? What a poseur, that thing is slow. That guy driving the eight-passenger SUV all by himself? How unnecessary. All these thousands of people sitting in a traffic jam? That’s it, this car’s going on Craigslist.

7. Waving Etiquette
Visit any forum and you’ll find novel-length screeds on the rights and wrongs of whome you should acknowledge while out on your motorcycle, and how. Should you wave at people on scooters? Will that thug on the sportsbike come chasing after you should you fail to salute? Do cruiser riders count?

You could spend every moment of your ride waving at anyone and everything, which is just mental. It’s probably best just to get on with the task in hand and ride your bike. Unless you see another riding unwittingly approaching a speeding trap, in which case it’s your sacred duty to tap the top of your helmet. Got that?

8. Working On Your Bike
Your new motorcycle likely came with an owner’s manual, full of specifications, technical drawing and suggestions on how to not end up with a worthless pile of parts stacked up in your driveway. You can see engine and all of the important bits and how hard can changing your oil be, anyways?

Take the time to read up about any work you want to do online, talk to knowledgeable friends and spend some money on acquiring the correct tools. And yeah, it’s not that hard.

There’s no obligation to take your bike to an authorized dealer and working on it yourself won’t invalidate your warranty, provided you don’t screw it up. If you don’t, you’ll end up with an enormous sense of accomplishment, along with fresh oil.

9. Your Bike Is Stronger Than You Think
Oh my god, you hit the rev limiter! Forgot to adjust the chain! Your tires are 2psi off! Relax. Your motorcycle is a lot tougher than you would think. It’s a highly capable feat of modern engineering and, part of its design process is devoted to making it stand up to your ham fisted abuses. Yes, you can take your bike on a trackday. Yes, you can take it on that weekend road trip. Yes, you can ride it fast and hard and put it away dirty. Your bike’s not going to melt in the rain.

10. The Boogers
Probably the least glamorous part of riding a motorcycle is the stuff that’s going to start coming out of your face. Live in a city? You’ll be inhaling so many carbon particulates that your nose will quickly clog up with black goo, then start leaking it down your face. Ride in the cold? Your nose will run the entire time. Kicking the snot off your upper lip will keep it from spreading across the rest of your face, then drying into a crusty mess. After every ride, you’ll blow your nose and it will come out black, brown, yellow and, if you’ve been riding anywhere dusty or around a nasty chemical plant, likely red too. You need to carry a hanky and you’ll need to wash that hanky every couple of days, because you will be using it, heavily. Look forward to explaining that no, you don’t have a cold to first dates.

[tsorfas]

All 100% true

[DZircher]

"Unless you see another riding unwittingly approaching a speeding trap, in which case it’s your sacred duty to tap the top of your helmet. Got that?" - OK, now I know. I know, 'shut-up Novice'

[Garandman]

The TDF (Triumph Delay Factor) is true. But I've heard some great stories about epic adventures. When you see an old guy's eyes glow as he recounts this favorite story of his youth, it's pretty hard to end the session.

Sometimes I think the main reason old Veterans (like me) are fond of their days in the military: because we were young.

[jwm2k3]

"Unless you see another riding unwittingly approaching a speeding trap, in which case it’s your sacred duty to tap the top of your helmet. Got that?" - OK, now I know. I know, 'shut-up Novice'

Youd be shocked at the number of riders that have no clue what the tap on top of the helmet means....

[Imbeek]

I've been riding street for thirty years and the top of helmet tap to indicate a speed trap is news to me...

I recognize a quick flash of the lights though (and yeah, I get it that the cop can see your tail light flashing that way)

[DZircher]

Youd be shocked at the number of riders that have no clue what the tap on top of the helmet means....

Thanks John, I think it's cool to be slowly learning all this shite.

[jasnmar]

And 4 Insane Things Nobody Tells You About Riding a Motorcycle

I've been gone a few weeks, but I can explain: I just bought a motorcycle. Which means that I've pretty much spent the last fortnight on a motorcycle, thinking about a motorcycle, fixing a motorcycle, almost crashing a motorcycle, gazing longingly at a motorcycle and pushing a dead motorcycle around a parking garage looking for a jump. I could try to give you some useful advice here, like "Don't take the Motorcycle Safety Course with a fever," or "When the floaty elf tells you to 'ramp that shit,' don't listen -- that's just the fever talking." But that stuff is probably pretty apparent to most of you, and if it's not, try listening to the elf a few times; some lessons you can only learn from mistakes. So instead, I'm going to tell you about a few very obvious fundamentals that, honestly, any idiot could figure out -- but that nobody ever seemed to mention to this particular idiot before he got himself into this mess.

#4. We Go Way Too Fast

A few motorcyclists just read that heading and thought something like "Fuck yeah, we go too fast! We're daredevils, bro. You suckers can keep your cages, we're free." (Yes, some bikers refer to cars as "cages," because literally everything has its embarrassing elitist jerks.) But I'm not talking about the reckless velocity of dudes without enough brain cells to comprehend mortality. I meant exactly what I said: "We all go way too fast."

First, let me say this: I'm not a wizened old hand at this motorcycling business (for example, I refer to it as "motorcycling business"), and so far I spend most of my bike time wobbling to a terrified stop after every pothole. But my limited experience atop a motorcycle has taught me a valuable lesson already, and it is this: All of us -- every human being alive today -- are traveling way, way faster than we have any right to. And I don't mean "We're in too much of a rush," like it's some symptom of our modern world; I'm saying that, since the advent of the engine, humanity has always flitted about at a ridiculously incomprehensible speed. It's just that we're removed from it in our cars: They're aerodynamic and sound-proof and shock absorbing and sealed off from all external stimuli to make commuting an isolated and relaxing experience.
But on a motorcycle, you sit right down on top of an engine with wheels, and the second you start moving, you realize that even our posted speed limits are still three to eight times faster than our species was ever meant to go. Our stupid eyeballs and ears and brains simply cannot reconcile our established rate of travel without all the buffers of a car around us, because our instincts understand that this should not be possible. But on a motorcycle, suddenly you comprehend the wrongness of speed. You feel every tiny bump in the road as you hurtle over them at a sacrilegious pace, the wind screaming in your ears, because that's what happens when you try to outrace the very air itself, objects flying by too quickly for your eyes to fully register.

"We are running way too fucking fast!" your primal brain screams. "How did this even happen?! ARE WE FALLING?" And then your rational brain glances in the rear view mirror and says "Speed up, man, this is a school zone: You have to do at least 20 mph."

That's not just me being a pussy about the whole thing (I mean, it is totally that, but there are other factors, too). When the automobile first started seeing major usage, the U.K. passed the Motor Car Act in 1903 to dictate proper road speeds. Here's the debate lawmakers had about the matter. There were some passionate responses to the matter on both sides, with some advocating reduced limits, while others argued for the limits being abolished entirely. A fairly typical argument went like this:
"[Mr. Nussey] wished to protest against the great speed at which motor-cars were driven. He thought the danger would be increased and not decreased when motor-cars came more generally into use, and he urged the right hon. Gentleman to meet this danger in time. It had been suggested that there should be a sphere of danger and another sphere of comparative safety, but he thought those in the danger sphere would have a very bad time indeed. It was no use being able to recognise the number of a motor-car after they had been nearly killed."

Man, is this when they lowered the speed limits to 55? How fast were they going that they wanted to designate special "danger spheres" for suicidal motorists? Why does a speed limit debate read like panicked religious zealots reading the Book of Revelations? And while we're at it, what is a Danger Sphere, and can I have one?
For answers to (most of) those questions, here's the rest of the quote:
"... and the only effective way to deal with the question was to make cars illegal which ran at more than about 15 or 20 miles an hour, or whatever speed was fixed as reasonable. He hoped something of this kind would be done, otherwise what was now a great nuisance might become a great danger."

That's right: This bitter debate regarding the crazy, irresponsible, blasphemous highway speeds at the time was about raising the speed limit ... from 14 to 20 mph. That's ridiculous now, seeing those numbers. They're talking about speeds lower than our absolute bare minimums like the devil himself was hurtling by their houses every night leaving little Back to the Future flame tracks in his wake. But if you want to understand why, just hop onto a motorcycle. Early cars were built somewhat similarly to modern bikes: They were small, open to the air, bumpy, windy, loud, careening minimalist carriages that made you pay for every mile with an ounce of old-timey fear urine. But nobody ever tells you that before you go out and buy a motorcycle.

There's no helpful FAQ out there that says "Caution: We've all been defying the laws of nature this whole time, and you're about to realize it."

#3. Other Drivers Hate You

You've probably heard that phrase before, or something like it: "Drive like they're all out to get you," your drunken, paranoid uncle might have told you, right before he took you out for "driving lessons" that always seemed to start at one bar and end at his house. But I mean it literally here: If you ride a bike, every other driver on the road despises you. As soon as you set ass to motorized cycle, you become Unclean.

I don't know if it's something in the perceived image that mounting a slightly narrower than normal vehicle makes you more of a man, or a tough guy, or a reckless daredevil, but traffic hates motorcycles. Not only hates them, but possesses a rage so intense that murder is the only solution. Other drivers will tailgate the crap out of you, regardless of your speed, and that's kind of a bigger deal when, y'know, you don't have a tail or a gate. So there's a several-ton steel box traveling more than fast enough to crush you to death in a nanosecond, and its operator has decided that his safe stopping distance is "up your asshole." And there's no way to make him back off, either. He's comfortable there, inside your asshole; he shows no signs of moving. He's going to make a life up in your colon -- hell, he's already planting a garden and having his mail forwarded there, so you better get used to him.

Drivers will also pass you in-lane -- just flying by on the right in a one-lane street -- because a bike is smaller, so there's technically enough space to slip by. Technically there's enough space to fit your Prius in a school gymnasium, too, but shockingly, it's still generally frowned upon when you mow down a dodge ball game. And if you think I'm embellishing, or that this behavior is exclusive to me and how I ride (which, for the record, is a bit timid, all adorably knock-kneed and shaky-legged like a newborn deer), check out this study by the California Office of Traffic Safety.

The survey was conducted to find out whether Californians knew that lane-sharing was legal for motorcycles (that's when you drive in the space between lanes to cut through traffic). Most did not, but that's not the interesting part: The interesting part was exactly how many of them -- 7 percent -- freely admitted to the survey conductor that they "tried to prevent lane sharing." That dry, objective phrasing makes it sound like no big deal, but the only way you can "try to prevent lane sharing" is to abruptly block a lane with your car when you see a bike coming (i.e., ramming a motorcycle off the road).

That is a shocking piece of information to volunteer to anybody at any time, and 7 percent of people freely admitted it to a total stranger. Find any other scenario where nearly one out of ten passerby will casually, almost happily cop to attempted murder on a regular basis:
"Excuse me, sir; were you aware that commercial fishing within two miles of the coastline is legal in California?"
"Why, no, random stranger, I was not! And in fact, I regularly hurl knives and flaming bottles of kerosene at boats when I see them fishing too close to the beach! Hahaha, joke's on me, I guess! Welp, see you later, I'm off to stab pedestrians crossing at intersections without crosswalks -- have a good one!"

#2. Wearing Protective Gear

I'd always heard that riding gear consisted of a leather jacket, jeans and a helmet. And I didn't question it, because damn near every motorcycle rider I saw was wearing a leather jacket, jeans and a helmet. Go figure. Sure, the occasional sport-bike rider would speed by in an elaborate strappy number with jagged stripes, brand names and patches everywhere, but I thought it was mostly a style thing. Hey, some dudes wear Tapout shirts on purpose; there's just no accounting for taste. Then, doing the research, I learned that you're supposed to have actual riding gear designed for that purpose.

And I can tell you firsthand that it is all just as uncomfortable, constricting and awkward-looking as you'd expect. And that it's also totally badass. Motorcycle protective gear is, by definition, insanely durable. Jackets, pants, bags and damn near every other type of clothing is made out of the toughest fabrics on the planet: Kevlar, Cordura, ballistic nylon -- this is shit that, when layered properly, stops bullets and knives. That's not to mention the thick, padded gauntlets with carbon fiber knuckles meant to withstand crashes at highway speeds and impenetrable leather boots with oil-resistant non-slip soles. And beyond all that, there are pads, inserts and plates hidden all throughout the fabric to protect your major joints and body parts.

For the more nerdily inclined among you, you're probably already getting it: It's not "safety gear," it's fucking armor.
Riding gear is a full suit of armor that is socially acceptable to wear in public. You walk into a Starbucks wearing your period authentic replica half-plate, and at best you're going to get some impolite stares; at worst, you're going to get a news piece with the headline "Police Fell Local Knight With Bear Mace, Mocking Laughter."

But you walk in there in motorcycle gear and, depending on how much the other customers want to piss off their father, you're either a responsible commuter or a naughty rebellion just waiting for a sexy coup.
I have no idea why I didn't know this -- why every motorcycle rider wasn't constantly daring me to hit them (seriously, hit me, guys! It's awesome!) and laughing as my blows rain off of their helmets. I have no idea why zombie movies even exist anymore, because they sell full suits of bite-proof armor in your local auto parts store. The drama would probably be somewhat diminished if every episode of The Walking Dead was just a smugly grinning Rick wading unharmed through the undead horde.

Even though a lot of riding gear is designed to resemble ordinary clothing as much as possible, you're still leaving the house with hardened knuckles, slip-resistant boots, knife-proof fabric and impact pads. That's like, half a super power. So while you may look like this:

You feel like this:


#1. It's Like Riding a Bicycle ... That Hates You

One of the first things the instructor at the Motorcycle Safety Foundation course said to us was "It's a lot like riding a bicycle."
And she was right; she just didn't finish the sentence.
I'm sure what she meant to say was "It's a lot like riding a bicycle ... off a cliff."
The basic principle is the same, sure, but if you've ridden a bicycle and are therefore counting on already possessing the skill set needed to ride a motorcycle, you are in for a terrifying, bloody disappointment. Some of the very basic maneuvers will feel familiar -- most of the time you steer, take off and stop using the same motions -- but there's so much more. For instance, for reasons that are entirely beyond me, motorcycles have the clutch on the handlebar and the gear shifter at your foot, forcing me to assume that Bill Motorcycle, the inventor of the motorcycle, was either medically dyslexic or some sort of drunken acrobat who exclusively rode bikes while doing headstands. You also control the throttle with your hand instead of foot, and have not one but two brakes -- using either of which at the wrong time will hurl you off the bike like a meat trebuchet.

The clutch is going to be familiar to you if you've driven a stick shift before, true, but now you have to do it backward, and upside down. You'll get the concept, but the motions are just foreign enough to require an all-new learning curve. Oh, and you have to practice in live traffic -- traffic which, again, has admitted to trying to murder you in the name of ill-informed justice. The end result is you attempting to master an only half-familiar skill (that is, if you've actually driven stick before. If you haven't, it's a totally unfamiliar skill to you and oh, God, what are you doing?! That's first gear; go up, no -- up, man, brake! Shit! Tree!) with an entirely different layout, and all while careening down the road at speeds that made your great-grandfather's monocle pop out in astonishment.

So yeah, sure, it's just like riding a bicycle ... while playing Moonlight Sonata, on a glockenspiel, and sprinting full bore through a psych ward full of murderers.
In short: It's awesome.
You should get a bike right now, and a full set of armor that's like blood red, and you can start zipping around like those forest speeder things from Jedi and you'll be like "WHOOOAAAA" and your bike will be like "VROOOOOO-"