I have long wanted to go on a motorcycle tour of New England through the Canadian Maritimes, then west, ending in Toronto. This isn’t a type of trip that one would take alone. You need at least one other person to be with you, in case something happens and to enjoy the experience together.

I tried appealing to my club through its newsletter for someone to go with me on such a ride, but nobody wanted to go on a slow trip as I described. That is, I suggested riding no more than 250 – 300 miles each day. Most people in my club ride much more than that in a day when they go on long trips. I prefer to “stop and smell the roses” as they say, and take my time. Plus, riding long distances gets tiring. These guys like to ride all day and drink all night… which doesn’t work for me.

I went on-line and found five motorcycle tour operators who offer to take you on rides in that area varying from 5 to 14 days in length. However, the fee for the tours that I found began at US$2,300 for the five-day tour, and went up (and up and up) from there. Meals, gas for the Harley, and incidental expenses would be extra. Nah-ah; I don’t want to spend that kind of money.

I regret that my partner is unable to ride with me as my passenger, or we would take such a tour by ourselves. But he can’t due to his disability. It doesn’t make sense for him to drive a car and me to ride my bike. It’s no fun that way, plus the trip would become just as exhausting to my partner as it would be to me.

I guess my dream will not be fulfilled this summer… but I will continue to look for a motorcycling companion with whom to ride on such a journey.

Life is short: dream.

Today, Sunday May 30, is a big day in Washington, DC. Bikers from everywhere descend on the city for an event that they call the “ride to the wall” or “Rolling Thunder.” It is held annually on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. For those blog readers not from the U.S.: that’s today!

The purpose of Rolling Thunder is to pay tribute to those who have served in the U.S. Armed Forces, especially those who were captured and endured being held as Prisoners of War, or who were missing in action (MIA).

Biker dudes (and dudettes) gather in the parking lot of the Pentagon, and wait… and wait… and wait… then at noon, the ride begins. Leaders of the group that organizes the event go first, followed by everyone else. The departure can (and does) take several hours. Bikers ride from the Pentagon across a bridge into the city, around the National Mall, past the U.S. Capitol building, then end up near the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial, which is at Henry Bacon Drive and Constitution Avenue, near the Lincoln Memorial.

Imagine… tens of thousands of bikers on their bikes — all trying to get from one place to another and try to find a place to park. It’s crazy! I appreciate what they are doing, and honor their commitment. I’ve gone on that ride a few times. It’s fun — when you’re riding. It’s the waiting for the ride to take off that is a killer. It can involve hours and hours of standing in the full sun. Finding a place to park at the other end is very difficult too, and by the time you get there, if you get there, a lot of the ceremonial events are over. It kinda defeats the purpose of riding in the event in the first place.

Well, anyway, we’re not going on the Rolling Thunder ride this year. Not because of some likely inconveniences, but rather, for the required Spring visit to the mother-in-law. Her place in da ‘burgh needs to be redded up. (If you don’t understand those terms, don’t worry. I didn’t either. That is, not until I got into a relationship with a Pittsburgher.) So once again, I’ll be lost in neuroticisms of the M-I-L and not riding on Memorial Day weekend. Such is partnered life. You win some, you lose some.

Remember those who have died, been lost, and some who were never found — all these brave warriors gave service and commitment that is honorable, and for that reason, we should thank them and remember. Even if we may not have supported the war in which they served, the point is, they served … and some didn’t come back.

Life is short: Remember.

I had the pleasure yesterday of riding in an annual event called “Law Ride.” It is a ride where motor officers and their supporters, like me, ride our motorcycles from an assembly point in Washington, DC, past the U.S. Capitol Building, to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial. We park and then watch a ceremony that pays tribute to law enforcement officers who have died in the line of duty.

I enjoy this event because it brings a purpose to what is otherwise a pleasure anyway: riding my motorcycle.

This year, there were far fewer motor officers than have participated in past years. Most of us think the reason for the lower attendance is because of the economy. Local governments, where (most of) these officers work are slow to feel the effects of an economic downturn, and are even slower recovering. While most officers attend this event on their own time and spend their own money to get there, it is still a burden back home to be away. Plus, I heard that a number of local law enforcement agencies have cut their motor officer contingent completely.

I did see some cops from Austin and Dallas, Texas, and Orlando, Florida. These were the ones who came from the most distant locations (that I saw). However, I was disappointed that the big contingent from Sacramento County, California, didn’t come this year. But I can imagine that it must cost a lot of money to pack up their bikes in big rigs and transport them cross-country to DC for a week, not to mention the cost of housing, meals, etc.

The ride was fun, the weather was a bit cool but pleasant, and the views were good. What was most important — remembering law enforcement officers who have died — is something that I did, personally, for several officers I have known over the years. I’m glad I went. I am glad that I was able to go.

It was also a pleasure to see my fellow boot blogger, Cliff, again, his friend Bullneck, and a friend of mine who is into boots and came to the staging area to visit.

I am working on photos that I took at the event, and will post them on my website when I have them ready.

Life is short: remember those who make the ultimate sacrifice by giving their lives in the line of duty — and their families and loved-ones, who miss them every day.

Good news: I have returned this week to getting back on my motorcycle and riding from my home to our Metro station, and then riding the Metro into work. It is hell to try to commute into the city on my bike, and my employer subsidizes our Metro commuting costs, so it is wise to use public transit to get to my office. But it sure is sweet to ride again from home to the Metro and back — and save the cost of parking at the Metro station. Things are slowly getting back to “normal”!

Yesterday, I had the pleasure of enjoying lunch with two guys who are motor officers in different jurisdictions in a state north of me. They arrived in DC early for Police Week (which begins Sunday and events last through the entire week). They will be among the hundreds gathering for Law Ride on Sunday, and I’ll be there, too. Of course, on Friday, they were off duty and in tourist garb — t-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. But I forgave them for me being the only one to show up in boots (giggle.)

We had an enjoyable, wide-ranging conversation, including some talk about boots. They still like their Dehners, though they wear them only when in uniform and on-duty. Otherwise, they wear tactical boots when riding their personal Harleys. At least that’s what they told me, though one sheepishly admitting wearing sneakers on his Harley from time to time. I gave him hell for that! He agreed that wearing sneakers on a big bike was unsafe, and promised me that he wouldn’t do it again. I forgave him, but promised my wrath if I caught him ever doing that again! LOL!

Life is short: enjoy riding when you can! (and in BOOTS!)

For a long time, I was under the false impression that a motorcycle was a motorcycle was a motorcycle in how they handled. That is, they all have two wheels and I thought they behaved and operated the same way as a bicycle, except they had an engine (LOL!). When you want to turn, you lean your body in the direction of the intended path of travel, and the bike goes that way. Seldom, unless you’re going very slowly or stopped, does a biker turn the handlebars. Many people who do not ride motorcycles do not understand that concept: turn by shifting the bike’s center of gravity and the bike goes that way. Not like a bicycle and turn the handlebars. ‘nuf said about that.

However, there’s more to turning a motorcycle than balance and leaning. I am not a physicist, but how a motorcycle handles turns has a lot to do with its center of gravity. Smaller, lighter-weight bikes (like my 750) didn’t corner well, and turned in wide, sweeping angles. That’s because it’s center of gravity was rather high. My Dyna Low Rider turned sharper, but I still found myself stopping short sometimes and self-correcting when I couldn’t turn the bike as tightly as the curve I was going around required. It felt like the bike was going to tip over with me on it!

When I got my Road King, I was thinking that because it is a bigger, heavier bike and because its seat height was a little higher than the Low Rider that my turning radius also would be wider. However, I found the opposite was true. During self-directed and on-range practice sessions, I discovered that I could turn the bike much more sharply than I thought I could.

Then it dawned on me: this is what the bike cops do. I have watched them at various police motorcycle rodeos and have been amazed at how skilled they were in being able to turn their bikes so sharply and not lose control of it or have it topple over. Just like you see in this video:

A professional motorcycle instructor explained the physics and mechanics to me. A lot of what he said was so technical, it went over my head. But what I learned was this:

• Smaller bikes don’t turn as sharply as larger bikes
• The lower one is seated on a motorcycle, the more likely the rider can steer it through a curve closely
• “Big and Heavy” does not necessarily equal “hard to turn tightly.”

Some riders, like my friend Sue, have explained that they have felt uncomfortable when turning their Harley (or other large motorcycle) while riding at speed. That indeed may be the case if the bike’s center of gravity is at a point that makes the bike feel top-heavy or wobbly. The best way to deal with it is to practice, practice, practice. (Sure seems as if I say that often, doesn’t it? Well, it’s true!)

Drive to an open parking lot, preferably a lot that is level and free of debris such as sand, dirt, or gravel. Practice driving in circles, making the circle tighter and tighter as you go around. Don’t drive so fast as to make yourself dizzy, but don’t drive so slowly that the bike isn’t in control of its motion. (What I mean is that you should drive fast enough such that you are leaning into the curves rather than steering slowly using the handlebars to point the front wheel.)

Turn around and practice going the other direction. It is very likely that you will find that you are more comfortable with right-sweeping turns or left-sweeping turns, but not both. For example, while I am right-handed, I am more comfortable with left-sweeping turns. I can take them faster and closer than their right counterpart. So I take time to practice doing the right-sweeping turns more, because I need more experience.

It really doesn’t matter how long you have been riding. You develop a degree of comfort and skill with this procedure by practicing and actually riding that bike.

Most bikers will admit (if they’re honest) that they have trouble with taking a curve and turning while the bike is at speed on the road. The best way to counter that is to practice. You will learn how far you can push your bike — and yourself — and develop confidence in your skills.

Life is short: ride your motorcycle confidently!

This is my third installment on motorcycle-related info. Previous posts on The Fit of a Motorcycle and Buying a Motorcycle have been viewed a lot. Doubled my readership in the last few days.

I have been riding motorcycles now for over 30 years. I started out on a Kawasaki 440, which was a great starter bike. It was peppy and fun, and even handled cruising on the highway, though I could tell that it better suited to slower speeds on the back roads. It was a cool little bike — big enough to get me places, but small enough for me to handle. I could sit on it and walk it to fit in a parking spot, or stand and push it on those occasions when I forgot and parked on a downhill incline. I even dropped it once — it slid out from under me on wet leaves — and I was able to right it by myself, tuck my tail between my legs, and ride it home.

Unfortunately, that bike’s engine developed problems pretty quickly, and it was getting more and more expensive to have repairs done. I sold that bike after two years and replaced it with a Kawasaki 750 “LTD”. That also was a cool bike, with a bigger engine that handled highway speeds better. It was smooth and comfortable. The fit was great. However, as it had a bigger engine, it also was heavier. I really strained the only time I forgot and parked it on a downhill incline to get it out of that space. I had to have a friend help me roll it up a ramp when I had it towed when I got a flat. That additional 100 pounds made a huge difference in how I was able to handle it.

However, a heavier bike rode more smoothly on the highway. I took the 440 once over a huge suspension bridge, and thought I would be blown off. I was scared witless. I rode the 750 over that same bridge, and the ride wasn’t as scary. Probably because, by then, I had been riding a lot more, had taken more training, and was more secure in my capabilities.

A few years later, I got tired of repairing the 750LTD, and bought a Kawasaki 750 Vulcan. I had it in 1993 when I met my partner. We rode on it two-up, and it handled the two of us rather well, though a bit cramped. It was nice when we rode together, because he could help me maneuver the bike if I needed help.

My partner convinced me to fulfill my dream — buying a Harley. I ordered a gorgeous new Dyna Low Rider in October, 1993, and it was delivered in February, ’94. I learned that Harley cruisers and touring bikes all had the same size engine — in that year, it was 80ci (1310cc). That was almost double the engine displacement — and weight — of my previous bike. And I noticed it right away. When I sat on the bike, I could barely move it. It took a lot of strain, stress, and struggle to get the bike parked in a tight spot. I have to admit, at first, I was daunted, intimidated, and frightened. I became more distressed when I dropped it one week after I bought it, because it just wanted to go somewhere and I couldn’t control it. Fortunately, when I dropped my Harley, the only thing that was damaged was my ego.

I was determined to figure out how to handle the thing. Again, while cruising, the bike handled fine. I felt very comfortable, secure, and confident while riding it. But when it was stopped, and I had to creep up at a light to fill a gap or move it into a parking spot or even into the space for it in the back of my garage, I had a lot of trouble. I couldn’t handle the weight. I was never a weight-lifter, and my inexperience was showing.

You see — where this is going — when you are riding a bigger bike, there’s no problem. Big bikes handle the road very well. With a low center of gravity, big bikes cruise smoothly and efficiently over the open road. It’s when they’re stopped that one has problems.

I went back to my motorcycle safety instructor, and I also spoke with some other, more experienced, bikers whom I trusted. The advice they gave to me are skills that I still practice today on my Road King:

1. Never park facing down hill. (no brainer!) If you have to park on a hill, move in perpendicular and then turn so the back of the bike rolls down hill. Then you can use the power of the engine to get out whilst moving foward.

2. Get more comfortable man-handling (lugging) the bike. Move it to a level, debris-free solid surface. Stand up and straddle the seat. Grab the bars. Walk the bike. Move it forward, move it backward. Move it, move it, move it. It’s may seem odd, but this procedure really works. You become more comfortable in knowing how hard to push, where to push, how to stand for better leverage, and what the drop-angle is (and stop before you reach that angle.)

3. Pick a corner of a parking lot, and practice parking the bike backwards in that place. Drive up to it facing forward, but then turn perpendicular. Kill the engine. Put the bike in neutral. Walk the bike back and forth so that its rear tire is facing the back of the space, and the bike is parallel to the space (or curb.) What you’re doing is practicing how to park it on a downhill incline. Practice in a level area first, then practice on a hill. The more you practice this handling technique on your own, the better you will be at it when you’re with a group and don’t want to be embarrassed because it’s evident that you can’t park your bike.

4. Practice stopping the bike and putting the sidestand down BEFORE standing up and dismounting. This may sound silly, but the more you practice this technique, the more it will become ingrained and will be something you “just do”. Why do this practice? Because, unfortunately, this example is common: you arrive at your favourite biker hang-out and see a bunch of friends. You enthusiastically drive up, cooly swing your leg over the seat to dismount the bike, and walk with the biker swagger toward your buddies … and hear a crash. You look behind you and see your bike on the ground and your friends in hysterics. What happened? You forgot to put the sidestand down. OMG, happens all the time. I see it two or three times each year.

5. Learn how to pick up your bike if it falls. Inevitably, this happens. The bike tips over and you can’t stop it, so you give it a controlled lay-down. Sometimes the bike slips on ice or gravel. Whatever… bikes fall over. It is not a macho-Harley “requirement” that you can’t have help lifting it up. In fact, even The Motor Company says that you should get help lifting a bike that has fallen over. I don’t know what it is about Harley-rider-thick skulls that insist that if a guy drops his bike, then anyone else standing around has to stand there laughing with arms crossed while the guy struggles to pick up his bike. Help him, and accept help! If, and only IF, you are all alone, then follow these instructions for Lifting a Heavyweight Motorcycle.

In summary, as bikes get bigger but their owners do not gain strength proportionate to the increase in a new bike’s weight, then you need to learn and adapt new skills in handling the bike. Recognize that the weight of a bike, especially something like a big V-Twin, can be daunting. It can cause strange and scary thoughts to mess with your head. It can even cause you to re-think your decision to go for a ride, or even to own the bike. Take time to practice the techniques described above. They really will help.

Life is short: go ride!