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Contents
The Invisible Biker by Pegleg
- Safety
Highway Robbery - Humor
(Source unknown)
BUGS! - Humor
Buck - Huron Valley Night Hawks
A Sexual
Thing! - Humor
Buck - Huron Valley Night Hawks
Note:
The articles submitted are not endorsed by Star Touring and
Riding but are posted here for reference and entertainment only
The Invisible Biker
One phenomena in this world
is that bikers get too often injured, because they got run off
the road like they wasn’t there; like they were invisible.
I know this from first hand
experience. The accident I was involved in was the drivers fault,
according to police. I followed that car for the last 2 miles.
The driver signaled a left turn into a side road, and started
to turn off. I looked in the mirrors for traffic around me and
at the same time twisted on the throttle. When my eyes got back
on the road ahead of me, guess what I saw: The car had turned
back onto the road, had slowed down considerably and a physical
principle was going to be tested: a body of matter cannot occupy
the same space that is occupied by another. Hence the name my
friends call me by - Pegleg. I know now that this accident could
have been avoided had I obeyed commandments 1), 4), 6), 7),
10) and 12).
Well, to some extend we motorcyclists
are invisible. Not to the eye, but to the brain. When a person
drives a car, it is second nature to look for other traffic,
i.e. other cars, trucks and busses. That is the norm.
The abnormal, like cats, dogs,
pedestrians and bicyclists are being recognized because their
behavior is so different from the normal traffic pattern, like
speed, direction and so forth. They cause erratic maneuvers,
but are not run over like they weren’t there. And than
there is the motorcycle. It behaves perfectly similar to cars,
same speed and same direction as the rest of the traffic. But
it isn’t a car or truck or bus. So it doesn’t register
easily in the brain of the driver. Remember, he/she is used
to look for cars, trucks and busses. If motor bikes would be
commonly known for being capable of doing great harm to cars,
a biker would be in no bigger danger than a semi truck. To complicate
this, we have to recognize the fact that drivers are many times
preoccupied with other thoughts and sometimes even other activities
while doing something routine, like driving to work.
What can we bikers do about
this?
Scare the car driver ! Yes !
Put a rocket under your crotch and appear out of nowhere in
his mirror or window and be gone before he knows what he saw.
Works well in demolition derbies. Not here. Or terrorize the
motoring public with chains, steel pipes and sawed off shotguns.
I don’t think so.
There is a different approach.
It is called DEFENSIVE riding. Not passive, not aggressive:
DEFENSIVE !
Following are the 12 Commandments
of Riding Defensively:
- Never assume that you are being seen and
recognized.
- Make sure you can be seen.
- Position yourself where you have room to
escape if someone fails to recognize you.
- Never assume that you are being seen and
recognized
- Don’t follow close, not even closing
in for a passing maneuver..
- Don’t assume that the car in front /
aside of you is going to do what would be obvious.
- Never assume that you are being seen and
recognized
- Run your high beams during daylight. OR flash
them.
- Use hand signals along with your signal lights.
- Never assume that you are being seen and
recognized
- Make eye contact with drivers.
- Never assume that you are being seen and
recognized.
Remember, drivers don’t
have to mean you harm when they run you off the road. They most
always are very grieved when it happens. They just don’t
recognize you until it’s too late. You have to alert their
minds of your presence in an non alarming way or stay out of
their way at safe distance. This is the art of defensive riding.
May all of you be able
to use many more rear tires, Pegleg.
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Highway
Robbery
"Not that I am a habitual lawbreaker, but
anybody who spends any time at all riding in today's traffic
had better be keeping up with the traffic flow if they intend
to survive for very long. That means running along at 75 to
80 these days and it is not even rush hour.. Yes the speed limit
is 65 so we're all breaking the law.....
"Despite the safety industry’s ‘Speed
Kills’ campaigns, the real safety hazard is not speed,
it is incompetence. In my book that’s a self-solving problem.
British statesman Edmund Burke once said something to the effect
that, "A government that seeks to protect man from the
results of his folly will succeed only in creating a nation
of fools.’ I think we’re currently paying the price
for those kinds of misguided policies.
It seems that Americans not only have a constitutional
right to drive, but also the right to drive badly and blame
their vehicle, the road, the weather, the wildlife and so on
for the wreck. I don’t buy those specious "cost to
society’ arguments that the safety industry dredges up
to support their draconian proposals.
Frankly, from here it looks like the gene pool
could use a good scrubbing. Not that I am in favor of human
suffering, but ignorance and incompetence really should not
be institutionalized (then again, maybe that’s how politicians
ensure the survival of their species).
Ah, but that’s not all. Has it occurred
to you that neither the people who make the law, nor those who
enforce the law, nor those who adjudicate the proceedings are
subject to the same laws?….
Part two of this scam is that you end up not
only enhancing the revenue of the state or local government
- an arbitrary and capricious means of collecting additional
highway taxes - but you’ll also end up paying higher insurance
premiums since you’ve just become a ‘bad’ driver.
Those same wonderful folks who keep the traffic
records sell access to your records to insurance companies so
they can raise your premiums when you get a ticket. The insurance
companies push their safety agendas to the state and federal
governments in the guise of public safety and encourage laws
that feed their already princely profits. Meanwhile, we are
forced to buy cars with expensive and dubious ‘safety features’
like airbags while paying chunks of our hard-earned pay to those
arbitrary and capricious road taxes.
My proposal is to return the responsibility
for highway safety to the people who are controlling the vehicles.
For instance, we should abolish all speed limits and replace
them with a law that says in effect, if you have an accident
or cause an accident, you will be held responsible.
Drive as fast as you like, but keep your vehicle
under control or learn to love public transportation. Maybe
that would also help get the insurance industry out of government.
In fact, I’ll go one step further: let’s
forbid driver’s side seat belts and airbags. Since auto
drivers have so many distractions these days, let’s give
them something to help focus on doing a good job of driving.
I suggest an eight-inch, razor-sharp stainless steel spike in
the center of the steering wheel to help them focus their attention
on the road.
They are welcome to continue reading the newspaper,
sipping latte, applying makeup, talking and talking about nothing
on the cell phone, etc. as long as they remember that the spike
is ever present and, need I say, unforgiving.
As drivers become less incompetent, the highways
will become a safer place for motorcycles. In the meantime,
the police could get back to chasing real criminals instead
of serving as armed insurance agents and tax collectors."
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Bugs!
Bugs – Just Plain Bugs
The other day Lucky and I were out at the clubhouse
sipping an ice cold Barley pop when the subject of BUGS came
up. It started because I had just picked a green inchworm (it
was calibrated in Millimeters) out of my cup, or maybe it was
all the ‘Skeeters that were lunching on us. In any case,
we started discussing - BUGS.
Actually, the bugs we discussed were those most
familiar to motorcyclists, namely anything that flies and some
that drop from trees. I know, I know, some of the dirt riders
are able to contact a sizeable number of ground dwellers, but
not the "Road" guys! They stick to the Aerodynamic
versions.
Lucky mentioned the time he caught a big old
June bug (It was in late July) right on the end of his nose!
What fantastic aim! He almost went down at 60 MPH and the guy
he was riding with said it looked like an alien had "Slimed"
him. All that multicolored matter seemed to dry before he was
able to stop, and I guess it wasn’t a pretty sight. Then
again, I’ve always said the Luckster needed a little color.
My dentist commented on a strange coating he
found on a front tooth, and wondered if I had been eating popcorn
earlier. I told him it was caused by the big smile I had on
my face while riding my new RoadStar over to the appointment
with him. He didn’t get it! Most civilians wouldn’t
get it. I feel sorry for them.
I told Lucky about the time I crossed into Florida
one spring, only to be greeted by a cloud of "Love Bugs".
Those of you who have experienced Love Bugs swarms will sympathize
with me. They are constructed out of two part Epoxy that mixes
when they hit your bike. Cure time is two seconds, faster if
it’s above 90 degrees. Water won’t touch the mess!
A gas station guy said the only thing that will cut the goop
is a can of Coke, but all I had was a Pepsi and all that did
was attract the Gnats. I did discover that Gnats are a bit saltier
than Love Bugs, but the Love Bugs have a crunchier shell. I’m
sure glad those Florida Palmetto bugs don’t fly!
I find that a very useful skill for street riders
is to be able to talk to your pillion partner with your mouth
closed, or at least through closed teeth. Talking through clenched
teeth looks macho besides. You can tell by the way he talks
that Clint Eastwood is a biker with a lot of summer riding experience.
A few years ago my two boys and I were trail
riding at Leota, just North of the old Canoe Camp. My bike was
a KX500 that I had lowered to accommodate my stumpy underpinnings.
The beast was almost unridable in low gear, due to the enormous
power it had. It sure was fun to roost my following kin when
crossing a mud puddle, but this only slowed them down for a
bit until the mud dried and fell off their bodies.
My mistake that day was to wear an open neck
shirt, into which flew a very angry Yellow Jacket which stung
me three times before I could convert him back to basic elements.
Naturally I used my left hand to assist him in driving his point
home, my right still on the throttle. Both boys said they had
never seen anyone do a one handed jump over three of the deepest
Whoop-Dee-Do’s on the trail. I declined to reveal my technique,
and neither boy was able to complete that same jump, a fact
for which they still hold me in awe. I told the boys I had gotten
the red marks on my chest the day before, at home. They understood
- I think.
Another aspect Lucky and I discussed was the
"Physics" of a bug strike. My physics professor at
Wayne State would have been really "Bugged" with this
question: Why do only the big ones clear the windshield at eye
level while on their Kamikaze mission ? Maybe we just don’t
feel the little guys hitting us, or possibly the big , hard
shelled critters have evolved a fast steering fin that only
emerges when a single headlight is pointed at them! This brought
up a question that had been troubling Lucky : Why did
the Japanese Kamikaze pilots wear helmets? Hmmm..
We both decided that getting smacked in the
hands and face with hard shelled, juicy bugs is part of the
ambiance of cycling. Be assured that no matter how well you
cover up, "They" will find an opening - leathers,
full face helmet, rainsuit, a space suit! It doesn’t matter.
Learn to enjoy it.
This coming winter I will guarantee that while
dreaming of all those wonderful rides you had last summer, you
will "Hear" the sounds, "See" those beautiful
sights, "Feel" the throb of the bike, and I suggest
you also - "Taste" - those summer evening rides.
Rubber side down, feet on the pegs, mouth closed
(or teeth clenched). Enjoy it all.
Buck – Huron Valley Night Hawks
A side note by the publisher:
A couple of weeks ago I had a most memorable bug strike.. While
traveling west on Highway 90 toward Houston, a large black insect
of unknown species (though quite large) attempted to make a
path from my nose into my nasal passage. Fortunately, he was
so large that he only went part way up my nose. Looking down
at my nose I could still his legs were sticking out and kicking!
I promptly expelled the intruder from his cocoon by grabbing
ahold of his legs and extracting him from my nose. :-)
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It’s
a Sexual Thing!
I guess it really started last year when a buddy
of mine first mentioned her name.
I remember exactly where I was, at our clubhouse,
when he described her in detail, and I new right there that
I would have to meet her. His description excited my mind like
nothing this poor old body has felt in years.
All you Macho guys remember the nervous thrill
you experienced with meeting your first girl friend, or your
first bike or car. That was the feeling I now had, in spite
of the fact that I am a "Senior Citizen". At my age,
how could this be?
It was about a month later that I traveled to
Hillsdale, Michigan in hopes of meeting her.
A mutual friend contrived to have us meet at
his place, and she was every bit as beautiful as I had dreamed.
Bright, brilliant, colorful! I was smitten. But how was I going
to explain this to my dear wife of so many years? I have never
hidden anything from her, and I could not hide this, so that
evening I confessed all.
She understood! She really did! In fact she
encouraged it. And so my old aged romance began.
We met whenever I could afford the time, and
she was always available, so I knew my affection was mutually
shared. I showered her with bright shiny presents, and tender
loving care. Anything she needed I provided with no hesitation,
although she never demanded a thing.
Our relation has since developed into a deep
and true love, with no end in sight. We can hardly wait for
Springtime when we can again ride together.
Well, I think she is due for her Winter oil
change and that last coat of wax. Spring seems a long time away,
but we both have our memories of our long, Summer rides together
to think about during the long, cold winter.
We both know it’s purely - a Sexual Thing!
Buck
Huron Valley Night Hawks M/C
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