Norm
Senior FZ6 Advisor
A Milestone
When I traded in my Silver Wing I had 6833 miles. I took about 13 months to put those miles on the bike. Us cold weather guys have got to make the most of about 7 or 8 months. When the winter finally moves out of town, the house, the yard, and the family start competing for my time. So to some extent I’ve been selfish, stealing time for myself, and my bikes during those prime months. Riding through the winter meant 40 miles round trip to work, nearly all highway, nearly always freezing. I rode when I could… for what? To say I did I guess, and maybe learn and have my uncontested riding time. I retired, yes. But somehow I’m back in the fray again. Three days a week working for a defense contractor as the company doc, one day at the hospital doing procedures, covering the emergency room, and consulting on the wards, interviewing students for my alma mater, tutoring math and physics (for free to motivated kids), boating, and, oh yea, spending time with the family and the yard.
Depending on what you read the average mileage per year on a motorcycle varies from just under a couple thousand to 3000 (NHTSA, Kelley Blue Book/for a sport bike). So I was pretty proud of the nearly 7000 miles I put on the Silver Wing in just over a year. But today I eclipsed that mark in just 8.5 months, ending the long day with 6864 miles on Mr. Fizz. Add in another 500 miles on my nephew’s dual sport, 250 miles riding my friend's Helix home from Maine (a 250 cc scooter on route 95 for 4 hours in March-talk about dicey) and I’m flirting with 15,000 miles in 21.5 months. My Suzuki Burgman and Yamaha Zuma, as well as various rentals over the years will probably round out my grand total on motorized bikes to 20,000 miles. But nearly all of that was in 3 years. That’s 10 years to your average motorcyclist. My mileage has increased almost exponentially as I moved from bike to bike, discovering all the wonderful facets of 2 wheeled paradise. At this rate I could put 15,000 miles in on two wheels in the coming year. And yet, like so many passions before it, I see glimpses of a day when the bloom will be off the rose. Thus is the world of Norm.
Whether I stay with it or I don’t, I know that I immersed myself in this sport. I am of the school that anything worth doing is worth doing right and that even the most mundane of activities can be improved. I’m not interested in track days at this point. I have ridden with aggressive riders and never found my skills wanting and at least to date, despite my shenanigans, I’ve had no significant incidents. I believe now that I can keep up with 90% of the riders out there, maybe more. Not the racers. The everyday Joe. Because I know that everyday Joe does not do what I’ve done. I’ve put myself into as many road situations as possible, from rush hour to highway, from dirt roads to twisties, solo and group, day trips and overnights. Rain, light snow, and 100 degrees.
When I see 50 bikes in the massive parking lot at work on a sunny July day and none from November to April I know that I have dedicated myself to the sport. I no longer feel I need to make that magic milestone of 50,000 miles suggested to me by my MSF instructor. No, I don’t know everything about biking and I’m not dubbing myself an expert. But who knows everything about anything they do. Some people jump out of planes a time or two, bungee jump, swim in a rip tide, take a white water rafting trip, scuba dive, or simply attempt to shovel 2 feet of snow with an unbeknownst 98% stenosis of their Left Main Coronary Artery. I suppose I could tell the guy when he shows up at the emergency room with a heart attack that he should have taken a radionuclide stress test before he attempted something that was clearly beyond his abilities.
So have I prepared enough for my next ride? I believe I have; or at least as much as anyone who deviates from the standard activities of eating, sleeping, driving, and working. For whatever reason there is a culture amongst riders that any accident is their fault. They could have always done more, trained more, or geared more. I, for one, will not judge another on their preparedness. As a rider, you make your choices and you live and die with them. Rarely do your errors hurt another traveler. So ride my friends and ride often. And when the passion dulls then move on, for all activities which place you in harm's way ask only one thing: your passion. And if you should perish, as a talented free diver associate of mine did when he simply went to deep, and a well-trained white water rafter physician friend did in the freezing cold Colorado River, then you did so with passion. It was not your fault and you did not need to take more classes with experts. Do it for the love of it. And then, God willing, walk away.
When I traded in my Silver Wing I had 6833 miles. I took about 13 months to put those miles on the bike. Us cold weather guys have got to make the most of about 7 or 8 months. When the winter finally moves out of town, the house, the yard, and the family start competing for my time. So to some extent I’ve been selfish, stealing time for myself, and my bikes during those prime months. Riding through the winter meant 40 miles round trip to work, nearly all highway, nearly always freezing. I rode when I could… for what? To say I did I guess, and maybe learn and have my uncontested riding time. I retired, yes. But somehow I’m back in the fray again. Three days a week working for a defense contractor as the company doc, one day at the hospital doing procedures, covering the emergency room, and consulting on the wards, interviewing students for my alma mater, tutoring math and physics (for free to motivated kids), boating, and, oh yea, spending time with the family and the yard.
Depending on what you read the average mileage per year on a motorcycle varies from just under a couple thousand to 3000 (NHTSA, Kelley Blue Book/for a sport bike). So I was pretty proud of the nearly 7000 miles I put on the Silver Wing in just over a year. But today I eclipsed that mark in just 8.5 months, ending the long day with 6864 miles on Mr. Fizz. Add in another 500 miles on my nephew’s dual sport, 250 miles riding my friend's Helix home from Maine (a 250 cc scooter on route 95 for 4 hours in March-talk about dicey) and I’m flirting with 15,000 miles in 21.5 months. My Suzuki Burgman and Yamaha Zuma, as well as various rentals over the years will probably round out my grand total on motorized bikes to 20,000 miles. But nearly all of that was in 3 years. That’s 10 years to your average motorcyclist. My mileage has increased almost exponentially as I moved from bike to bike, discovering all the wonderful facets of 2 wheeled paradise. At this rate I could put 15,000 miles in on two wheels in the coming year. And yet, like so many passions before it, I see glimpses of a day when the bloom will be off the rose. Thus is the world of Norm.
Whether I stay with it or I don’t, I know that I immersed myself in this sport. I am of the school that anything worth doing is worth doing right and that even the most mundane of activities can be improved. I’m not interested in track days at this point. I have ridden with aggressive riders and never found my skills wanting and at least to date, despite my shenanigans, I’ve had no significant incidents. I believe now that I can keep up with 90% of the riders out there, maybe more. Not the racers. The everyday Joe. Because I know that everyday Joe does not do what I’ve done. I’ve put myself into as many road situations as possible, from rush hour to highway, from dirt roads to twisties, solo and group, day trips and overnights. Rain, light snow, and 100 degrees.
When I see 50 bikes in the massive parking lot at work on a sunny July day and none from November to April I know that I have dedicated myself to the sport. I no longer feel I need to make that magic milestone of 50,000 miles suggested to me by my MSF instructor. No, I don’t know everything about biking and I’m not dubbing myself an expert. But who knows everything about anything they do. Some people jump out of planes a time or two, bungee jump, swim in a rip tide, take a white water rafting trip, scuba dive, or simply attempt to shovel 2 feet of snow with an unbeknownst 98% stenosis of their Left Main Coronary Artery. I suppose I could tell the guy when he shows up at the emergency room with a heart attack that he should have taken a radionuclide stress test before he attempted something that was clearly beyond his abilities.
So have I prepared enough for my next ride? I believe I have; or at least as much as anyone who deviates from the standard activities of eating, sleeping, driving, and working. For whatever reason there is a culture amongst riders that any accident is their fault. They could have always done more, trained more, or geared more. I, for one, will not judge another on their preparedness. As a rider, you make your choices and you live and die with them. Rarely do your errors hurt another traveler. So ride my friends and ride often. And when the passion dulls then move on, for all activities which place you in harm's way ask only one thing: your passion. And if you should perish, as a talented free diver associate of mine did when he simply went to deep, and a well-trained white water rafter physician friend did in the freezing cold Colorado River, then you did so with passion. It was not your fault and you did not need to take more classes with experts. Do it for the love of it. And then, God willing, walk away.
