Blood Mountain Scenic Ride

Michelle, whom I met on Facebook, invited me for a ride through the Chattahoochee National Forest to show me around her “neck of the woods.” We had a blast on two wheels. It  was a great weekend filled with good company, good food, good beer and beautiful roads. Michelle is a most gracious hostess and is an excellent motorcycle rider. She helped me “reset” my brain to enable me to enjoy street riding again for its own merits and with its own set of challenges. In other words, I had to retrain my attitude. Street riding has been a fairly frustrating experience for me for the past year and a half. I couldn’t enjoy the street because my brain was stuck at the track. This is a dangerous problem to develop. If you find you cannot separate and compartmentalize the differences between racing and street riding, you’ll soon find yourself in a world of pain. It’s really a little like playing Russian Roulette, but with bullets in most chambers.

The first racing school had cured me of such silliness as trying to put my knee down on public highways and practicing racing technique on curvy roads. There comes a point in a rider’s skill development where the street isn’t the proper place to learn anymore. The focus shifts from trying to “be faster” to honing your risk management skills and collision avoidance. There is a reason why a lot of racers eventually quit riding on the street. I fell into the trap without even realizing it until it was way too late.

After spending an entire day at the Kevin Schwantz School learning and practicing my racing skill set, I jumped on my S1000RR and headed the seven miles back to my hotel. I felt claustrophobic and slow, even though my average speed hadn’t changed. But after being at a racetrack where you do not have to worry about such things as Jersey Barriers or pavement conditions or opposing traffic, everything I saw around me became a possible death trap. I calmed down. At first.

Eventually, the lines between track riding and street riding blurred once more; and even though I hadn’t fully reverted back to my former level of hooliganism, I was still racing, although with less confidence. Which was a good thing. It kept me diving into blind corners tempting the fates.

If you are riding at the edge of your skill and your traction, eventually you will lose and most of the time that means a very high probability that you may not live to tell your story the next time you round a blind turn and find yourself nose-to-nose with that car violating the double-yellow line to take the “race line” through the turn. This means possible death for you, especially in the mountains where there’s a wall on one side and a ravine on the other with no real place to go. It means a whole load of paperwork for them; not to mention you’ve just ruined their day.

Something had to give. I was intellectually acutely aware of this. But I still couldn’t refrain from “redneck road racing” for the most part. The frustrations with the limitation of street riding soon became manifested in such a way that I couldn’t even enjoy riding anymore. At one point, after losing my job, I had told my husband just to sell my bike and be done with it. He became irritated. Maybe he didn’t understand what I was going through; maybe he thought I was getting down on myself because of the financial distress my unemployment caused. That was part of it. A small part of it. My problem, however, ran much deeper than just simply trying to make ends meet with less money in the bank. I was subconciously looking for a way out. I knew what I was doing would spell disaster in the long run. I knew that street riding requires a completely different skill set than track riding. I knew that practicing racing technique had no place off the racetrack. I knew. My brain knew. My soul kept flying.

I behave when I’m in a group, even if it is just with one other rider. I am courteous and attuned to other riders’ comfort levels. I make it a point not to create an environment that breeds competitiveness and the pressures of trying to keep up. It never has led to anything good for anybody involved. It’s one of those things. Nothing ever happens. Until that one time… But I have lost my “street eyes”. Where before I knew what a proper following distance looked like and managed to keep such a distance no matter what speed or how curvy the road, since I scanned ahead and made early adjustments, now I find it of no concern when someone dives into a curve behind me glued to my tail section. And I have no problem shoving my nose up someone else’s pipe either. This creates that peer-pressured environment that I seek so hard to avoid. Never mind, that I know I can stay well within my lane and not run into the person in front of me. What exactly are they thinking about me being back there? What position am I putting them in? At best, they don’t care just like I don’t; at worst they get scared, lose their concentration and do something that causes them to wipe out. Who’s fault is it? Technically the person who lost control is at fault, they call it “failure to negotiate a turn”. In my eyes, though, I am the one who put them in the situation to begin with. Hence, I am at fault. But that’s the way I think.

But when is too close too close? That is the question. If you follow someone and they crashed for one reason or another and you couldn’t help but get involved in their crash, you’re following too close. Optimally you shouldn’t be diving into a corner before the person in front of you has exited the curve in question and is well on their way into the straight part of the road. In a lot of cases you don’t even know when that is, since you can’t even see the apex (for those of you who don’t ride: the middle of the turn, where corner entry becomes corner exit, the point where slowing down turns into speeding up). Even if you could stop in time to avoid becoming involved in a crash, is the person behind you capable of doing the same? It’s a tricky proposition to brake when leaned over and it takes finesse and knowledge of motorcycle physics and how all these forces interacting with each other affect available traction and your continued success of staying on your tires rather than sliding on hard parts.

I used to get to “Point B” and people could be overheard talking about what they’ve seen; how pretty that waterfall was or how cute the fawn looked grazing in that ditch. I get there, usually ahead of the pack, saying: “What scenery?!? And where the heck are we anyway?”

I am well on my way to regain my proper (and safer) street game, but I have yet a ways to go. But Michelle showed me that yes, you can have fun on the street without breaking the sound barrier and risking going to jail. Yes, you can have fun on the street without having to haul triplets down the straight and grabbing a massive handful of front brake lever, throwing in two downshifts and stuffing 999cc into that awesomely banked constant radius right turn. However, when I’m by myself, I tend to get bored and sometimes get caught up in the dance that is negotiating those beautiful curves winding through the mountains. It starts out innocently enough, but the speed seems to steadily mount with every passing curve, as the music moves into the second movement and the dance continues.

It helps to make it a point not to brake for turns, but to adjust one’s speed in such a manner that you can just flow through without even touching the brake lever. It also helps for me to make it a point not to hang off, since remaining center on the bike really does give you that feeling of going faster than you actually are. I can still get my kicks at more reasonable speeds. The problem with riding “in the zone”: if the people behind you are relying on seeing brake lights to know what they need to do, you risk getting a nose up your tail. I don’t rely on brake lights or turn signals. It’s not a good idea anyway. It works fairly well until somebody blows a fuse… or signals one way and then changes their mind without telling you. It can also lead to target fixation. Another bad habit to avoid when riding, since the bike goes where you look.

Last weekend I’ve had the most fun I’ve had on the street in almost two years. The speeds were kept sane, I came home WITH CHICKEN STRIPS and I actually enjoyed some scenery for a change. 🙂

Thank you, Michelle, for being my tour guide.


Let Those Without Squid…

…give me some riding lessons!

From the looks of it, I apparently need them desperately. And the day when Rosie O’Donnell is thin enough to wear a size 0 would be the day that I give a hoot the size of the average contact patch about the advice of people who obviously are lacking the faculties to do just that: give valid and constructive input.

I really don’t understand why people insist on criticizing others, spewing their stupidity online, when it is painfully clear that the originator is just some douche who doesn’t know their gyroscopic precession from their Poinsot’s construction.

As far as my riding skill development goes, I leave that in the capable hands of people who could teach you douche bags a few tricks of how to keep your insurance premiums (and by extend, mine) to a minimum:

Kevin Schwantz, Ed Bargy, Keith Code, Lee Parks, …

You get the picture. Now go get your permit renewed and drag your wife by her hair into the kitchen to make you some pie, because apparently that’s what cavemen do.

Until such time when I meet you on a track and use you as my “that is NOT quite the race line” visual aid and watch you wad it up before you even finish lap three (and I’m being generous in that assumption), we are done here!

Note to all new riders:

Please don’t listen to all the misinformation that is floating around online, the nonsense that is sometimes heard at track days, and the stupidity being spread about at bike nights. Do yourself a huge favor, take some kind of formal training to get you started on the right track (pun intended), it will boost your confidence, help your skill development, prevent bad habits or help you change some you didn’t know you had; and most importantly, will help you sort through all the BS and know good, constructive advice from the kind that can cost you dearly.

UPDATE: I couldn’t help myself: Exhibit A

Uploader Comments (TraNceDgURL)

Riding like that you might as well just leave it in sixth.
fungusrare 23 hours ago

@fungusrare I normally don’t give douche bag comments that are idiotic in context, are only written to make the author feel better about his short-comings, comments with no constructive input nor validity any second glance. They get deleted and ignored after I had a good laugh. However, in the interest of Darwinian Law and to further have some laughs, please enlighten me as to how you came up with your suggestion of proper gear selection.
TraNceDgURL 13 minutes ago

@fungusrare Further, I would like to state that some people obviously have no sense of humor, didn’t read my video’s remarks, nor have they read my channel’s introduction. If you feel like I have wasted 6:27 minutes of your precious life, I feel sorry for you to have watched the whole thing. Click, click, click… oh! Here we have some footage of an S1000RR doing 190+ in the middle of the night on an interstate. Maybe that’s more your speed, given your suggestion of gear selection.
TraNceDgURL 5 minutes ago

@fungusrare If I wanted skill training from an idiot like yourself who obviously feels that his penis size is a little short of average and is intimidated by a woman who happens to know how to ride, I would probably specifically ask for it. However, I rather leave my training in the capable hands of men who KNOW HOW TO RIDE. Kevin Schwantz? Ed Bargy? Lee Parks? Keith Code? Take your pick. That would be all. Now, go and have your significant other lick your wounds for you.
TraNceDgURL 2 minutes ago

@fungusrare Upon further introspection, please don’t respond to my question. You will just leave yourself open for public humiliation and personal embarrassment and who is going to tend to your emotional scars? Therapy is expensive.
TraNceDgURL 10 seconds ago


The Man Refused To Watch

I just finished watching @MsXXFastRR’s videos from her first WERA West race weekend. Her friend has them posted on her YouTube channel. And as I watched them take off and start racing around the track, I started feeling a little sick to my stomach. Good grief! Is this how fast we are going? Seriously? It doesn’t look that fast when you’re on the bike. Neither does POV footage look all that fast. But watching it over the pit lane wall? Holy shite! No wonder Mr. Slow disappeared into thin air and blamed the heat for not sticking around when he met me at Barber in June. I probably would have run away screaming had I been the one watching him doing laps. Well, with his skill, I have reason to be worried.

I can see it now: Mr. Slow on his Concours 14 turning laps, hanging his cheeks into the breeze, hoping that the zipper on his four-cow one-piece race leathers won’t bust or that he’ll slam that Connie right into the ground with his huge weight shift… People watch him go by and are astonished: “He didn’t even take the bags off!”

Yup, that’s my man! Or would be, if he had any interest in track riding. He went to the 1/4-mile strip once. He did 75 at the trap. He said he was going faster, but slowed down because he didn’t know where the thing ended. Puhleeeze!

Seriously though, I just can’t get over this. Makes me wonder if I’m off my rocker, insane in the membrane, three mils short of proper preload.

Seriously, I want to do WHAT?!?

Let’s just say, I don’t blame the man. I understand now. I understand.


The Umbilical Brothers: Motorcycle Cop

This cracks me up every time I watch it. I want to see these guys live, they are freakin’ awesome!!! I would probably laugh so hard I’d pee my pants. Suppose I should come properly prepared. 😉  I just came across this video again while checking on the results of the “audio swap” on one of my vids which was blocked worldwide due to well… the Man wanting his copyright protected.

So without further ado: The Umbilical Brothers in “The Motorcycle Cop”


Found It: The Black Hole of Wasted Type & Space

Its event horizon apparently coincides with my YouTube channel.

Silly Comment

Another addition to the MVC category: This is intellectual semi-precious material here!

Silly Comment 2

The life expectancy of Subject D is dramatically shortened compared to his peers in the control group. Ask me how? Nah, don't. You wouldn't "get it" anyway. Divide by Zero. Enough said.

Miss Busa Speaks

Give me a minute... it takes time sinking to that low a level... I need a qualifying round here.

Round 2

I find myself having to adapt to my visit in the waste lands of this douche's intellectual landscape. It's not pretty, but maybe sinking to the appropriate level will decrease the chance of the point being missed completely.

Ahhhh, I’m drunk on the silky-smooth power of a moderator moderating in moderation. This is therapeutic! Better than a squeeze ball and much safer than telling the boss where to stick it. If it wasn’t for these ass-clowns how would we get our low-brow entertainment?!?

All is well at Casa Busa, because when you come into my house and attempt to shit on my carpet, I will grab you by the scruff of your neck and rub your nose in it preemptively (with the right technique and pressure applied strategically you’ll bend that far), then toss your untrained ass outside with the rest of the mongrels.

Block. Delete.

A low-life shitpot stirrer isn’t given the satisfaction of having the last word.


I’m Not Worthy! Impound My Double-R!

Moronic YouTube Comment

Comments like these are exactly why I don't allow commenting on my vids. What exactly did this accomplish? Not to mention that this has got to be the most boring ride video out there. Oh wow! A Duc and a BMW going the speed limit (more or less)! Impound our bikes!!!! Quickly!

Was I not just going on about this topic? What exactly does a comment like this accomplish? Other than fulfilling some deep-seated need of the poster to put another person down. Especially, since he has posted a video of his mom learning to ride without a stitch of gear on her, not even a helmet! What can I say to this? It pissed me off, I couldn’t resist. And the best part? The cam died before we even got into the twisties and the “real flame-worthy stuff” happened. Ha! And we came back to talk about it. Not worthy of either of those bikes? I wonder what worksheet he used to come to the conclusion?!? Please, somebody explain this one to me. Somebody? … Anybody? Bueller? Bueller? I would like to know what exactly we did in the posted video that makes us so unworthy. The thing is a boring documentary of two supersports doing the speed limit! OMG! OMG! What squids! Well, Kevin *is* a half-squid. Hahahaha… he does need some knee pucks on those jeans, the way he was throwing that Duc through the curves. And I told him as much. I was dressed in full race gear. That’s right! I’m one of those douche bags who wears her full track regalia on the public roads. *nods, crosses arms, wonders if you have a problem with it* Oh, and it was RAINING! Yessir! Raining, I tell ya. We were canyon carving on WET roads! OMG! OMG! OMG! Because we so don’t know how to ride… Never mind that one of us actually had formal training. Did I mention we were also sleep deprived? Hopped up on caffeine and one of us had to go work that entire night DRIVING?!? There were cops everywhere, too. You know what cops in the twisties are called, no? They are the corner workers of redneck road racing.

Let’s see here: One of us had the same bike for four years. One of us puts an average of 1,500+ miles on the clock any given month. Neither of us owns a battery tender. One of us has the “good rider” discount on their insurance. One of us is “claim free”. Neither of us would let their Mom ride without gear. Both of us ride year around as our primary mode of transportation. One of us doesn’t even own a car. Either of us pays less on full-coverage than you do on liability (confidence is high, I repeat, confidence is high). Embarrassed yet? Shall I continue, or are you slowly getting the point here?

Go buy your mom some gear. She deserves it and should slap you around a bit to knock some sense into you. I do thank you though, I really needed a douche bag to punch around a little, since I haven’t had throttle therapy in a long time, it’s cold as hell, and I am cranky when both of these things happen in concurrence. Don’t know what that means? Google it.

Signed – The chica who should ride a Ninja 250.

P.S. I forgive you. It’s ok. Darwinian Law will take care of problems like yours, I assure you. Thank you again for the good time. I really did need this. Life is good.