I have been riding a motorcycle for 35 years now. During that time, I have probably ridden over 100,000 miles on six machines. That may sound like a lot of riding, but an average of 2,850 miles/year really is not that much, at least compared with some of the more avid riders with whom I ride.

Also during my riding career and in my much younger, carefree single days, I was a motorcycle riding instructor. I became an instructor because I liked to teach, but also doing that would make me keep my riding skills current and at peak of performance.

Due to increased demands on my time due to travel for work, I stopped teaching motorcycle riding classes. I slowly dwindled into complacency, thinking that…

…I knew what I was doing. I was a safe rider and had confidence in my skills. I rode only with other safe riders, and avoided “hot dogs” (speed demons, squids on crotch rockets, or whatever you want to label them).

Thirteen months ago, I had a major wake-up call when I crashed on a public highway at posted speed. I slid some 300 feet, yet had no abrasions because I was geared properly. I broke three ribs, and that was very painful, but over time, healed well.

However, I had fallen off my iron horse and it was damn hard to build up my nerve to ride again. My confidence was shot and I was questioning whether I should ride again or sell my Harley. I held onto the bike, but for a while, I wasn’t sure. I thank The Spouse for his gentle words of encouragement when I was experiencing significant self-doubt.

Considering that I am not getting any younger and riding gets exponentially more difficult with each year of age now that I am approaching my sixth decade, I planned the most epic journey, or “crazy awesome adventure ultimate bucket list” ride with my sane, experienced, safe-riding buddy “S”.

Knowing this major epic ride is coming up ONE MONTH FROM TODAY, I have been practicing my safe-riding skills and riding more frequently and for longer distances in various weather.

Some evenings after dinner, I go to a parking lot or the police motorcycle riding range where my motorcop buddy, JB, meets me and puts me through the paces. He cuts me no slack. Yells at me for stupid things I do that years of complacency and less frequent riding have caused. Things like grabbing the front brake when slowing whilst turning, especially going downhill.

“No no no BHD! You’re gonna have a low-side crash riding like that!” JB would admonish.

Or pulling in the clutch and braking whilst in fourth or higher gears. “BHD! Downshift! Downshift! Let the bike’s engine do the braking for you!”

Or having some degree of “target fixation” — looking only at the next thing ahead of me instead of my complete surroundings. JB frequently advises, “put your head on a swivel!”

I have to admit… that is my most difficult riding skill to reacquire. Due to an old skydiving injury of my neck, I cannot turn my head to the left as much as most people can. I compensate by turning my body, which throws off my balance and center of gravity. I spend more time on that skill than almost any other.

And finally, JB is always yelling at me, “Look where you want the bike to be! Look through the corner, not in the middle of the road in front of you!” That, my friends, is the most difficult thing to do because it doesn’t occur naturally. You have to practice that skill over and over and over again.

Well, long story short, I am trying to rebuild my riding skill so I will be able to relax and have fun on my epic motorcycle adventure and ensure that my buddy S will not have to worry about me (too much, more than just looking after one another.)

Yesterday, my rekindled riding skills provided a “save.” I was riding home from visiting family when I missed a turn. That’s okay, that happens and it is not possible to teach me geographic competence. I can land on a dime from 30,000 feet, but for the life of me, I miss turns onto roads on which I have been riding for decades.

When I realized that I missed my usual turn, I went to the next intersection and turned right. I had not ridden on that road before. Turns out that this road makes a 140-degree immediate right-turn on a down hill elevation. On top of that, it is a little two-lane narrow road with a double-yellow line and no shoulder — just a guard rail. To top it off, a car was coming toward me in the opposite lane.

I entered that turn “too hot.” That is, while I had slowed to make the turn, I had not anticipated a 140-degree inside sharp angle on a downhill slope with a car coming at me and I was going too fast.

I had a very brief moment of “oh shit!” that some people might label “panic.”

But I let my skills kick in. Instead of grabbing the front brake and using my right foot to try to stop and prevent a fall toward the right (which is instinct when my body falls), I let off the throttle, kept the bike in gear (no clutch), used the rear brake (right foot), and leaned into the curve and looked where I wanted the bike to go instead of AT the car headed toward me, the road in front of me, or my controls. I pointed the bike in the direction I was looking, through the curve.

I did it! A second later, the Harley was uprighting itself onto a straight part of the road, the car coming the other way had passed, and danger averted. I let my skills do what I was trained and taught and practiced. Safe!

Whew!

Man, IF I had the dumb idea to try to use my front brakes (right hand) to try to stop and think that I could hold 900 pounds (400kg) mass of Harley up at my speed (velocity) when its momentum was beyond what my leg could handle, I would have gone down quickly, and who knows what consequences of injury to my body and damage to my bike would have happened.

Next time I’m buying JB a steak dinner with all the trimmings.

Life is short: OJT for motorcycle skills is not enough. Practice under the watchful eye of a safe riding coach.