Introduction
I’m a speed freak. Not surprising, considering my background. I come from a long family history of bikers. My elder brother, my dad, even my mom, they all have motorbikes. Right from when I was but a kid, we’d all getaway during the weekends, with me usually riding on either my mom’s or my brother’s bike. Soon enough though, I blew 12 candles during my birthday, and was presented with a small Benelli dirt bike. My elder brother offered to teach me how to ride it.
I already had the elemental skill needed to ride a motorbike: the sense of balance. Since I was eight, I had ridden mountain bikes as a form of exercise. So basically, all I needed was to know how to work the gears and clutches of the motorbike. Or so I thought. My elder brother, Cliff, quickly convinced me that there was so much more to riding a motorbike. He told me that it’d take me at least two months to finally be considered a competent biker.
The lessons
We started the lessons one early morning in a certain open field near our home. Cliff started by showing me the important parts of the bike. I was soon conversant with the pillion, the hand accelerator, the signal lights, the hand and the foot brakes, the fuel reservoir, the clutch and the gears. He also described for me a major difference between Benelli motorbikes and most other bikes. While most bikes use a chain to connect the hind wheel to the engine, Benellis were known for their spinning metal rods, similar to the final drives of vehicles.
Cliff then gave me a lecture on safety when riding bikes. I quickly came to learn that motorbikes required a much higher sense of responsibility than even cars. With the rider essentially being part of a bike’s outfit, a bike is basically a human being travelling at vehicle speeds, but with nothing but a visor and knee pads as protection. Any accident when on a bike hence can be fatal- and most are. A sense of maturity was hence essential. This was part the reason why my parents had waited until I was 12 before allowing me to ride.
Cliff then instructed me to wear a leather jacket, knee pads, gloves and a visor. Dutifully, I put them on. Cliff could see the impatience in expression, for he soon launched into another tirade about the importance of each of those. Afterwards, he told me to sit on the pillion and hold the handlebars. At last, I thought, as I gleefully took the seat. Cliff then sat behind me on the pillion.
The dirt bike didn’t need kicking to start it. A handy ignition switch was in place. Cliff told me how to kick the gear system into neutral before turning the ignition key. Then, as per his instructions, I crunched the crutch while turning the ignition. The engine roared to life. The vibrations beneath me were simply exhilarating. Cliff however reminded me that the power beneath us could either be our transport to an earthy destination or to a heavenly one. His veiled threat became a fact in the next few seconds.
In my excitement, I kicked the motorbike into first gear. Then, turning the hand accelerator, I released the crunch. Cliff’s quick reaction saved our hide that day. He quickly grabbed the crutch just as I was releasing it. For several seconds afterwards, he was silent. Then, in a quiet voice, he described just what I had almost done. Apparently, if the crutch had become fully released, the bike would have shot forwards, and probably buckled us into our deaths. It was a close call. In Cliff’s dramatic expression, we had literally been knocking on heaven’s doors.
The storm passed, and we once again concentrated on getting on the move. This time, Cliff held the clutch besides me, and controlled how fast I released it. We were soon off on a smooth start. Soon, Cliff left the handlebars to me, confident in my sense of balance. I didn’t disappoint him. But after a short while, it was time to change to a higher gear. Once again, Cliff held down the clutch down for me, while instructing me how to kick the next gear into place. The bike surged forwards, and we were soon racing along at a considerable speed. After riding for another two kilometers, we turned around and headed back to the open field.
That first lesson took about an hour. When cliff saw that I was relatively conversant with the bike’s basic operations, he let me ride around the field on my own. He followed me with his own motorbike. When I tried to accelerate, he quickly told me to maintain a slow speed. I wasn’t as yet ready for anything above fifty. He was right, of course. The coordination during gear shifts was still proving tricky, but I was determined to have it down as soon as possible. Thereafter, I still had to understand how to use the signal lights, and the hand signals. With Cliff’s encouragement, I soon had most of the concepts off-head. Slowly, I was allowed to ride at higher speeds. By the end of the day, I had hit 100 kilometers per hour on a deserted road.
Cliff then told me that a lot more lessons awaited me on the highways. He allowed me to venture out on the highway on the following day. He tailed me though, ostensibly to see how I maneuvered myself around other motor vehicles and the pedestrians. It was then that I realized just what a great responsibility riding a motorbike is. Not only do you have to take care of yourself, but you also have to take care of all other road users in front of you. This particular fact was made clear to me more than once.
While passing a pedestrian crossing once, I came face to face with human unpredictability. A lady was crossing the road, but upon seeing us approaching, she became confused, and just stood there, right at the middle of the road. I had to break hard. Cliff also screeched to a stop beside me. We exchanged glances. No words were necessary. After the lady had finally got her wits together and crossed the path, we gunned the engines again and moved on. Soon enough, however, we had to break hard again. A child, running after a small tennis ball, had just appeared in front of us. The innocent look on the child’s face made me realize that the child had no idea just how close death was then. By the end of the day, I had a whole new perception on my responsibility as a new biker.
Conclusion
Over time, riding motorbikes has become second nature. I’ve since ridden a Kawasaki, a Yamaha, the intriguing American Iron-horse, and even the feminine Star White. Of course, with the more elegant designs, I would get a lease from a lending company. Through all this, however, I’ve realized one thing: the lessons never cease. I had my first accident several months after calling myself a biker. There were no serious casualties. It was embarrassing, but it was also very illuminating. There are no motorbikes experts- there are only cautious riders. And since then, I’ve always fought the urge to speed up unnecessarily on the highways. Of course, we do sometimes go for speed thrills as a family, but we always choose less busy highways, and everybody keeps within his or her capabilities. I hope to ride into old age.