 |
by Kristin Leary |
Going
into my fourth season as a motorcycle rider, one thing has
become quite clear. If you can't talk the talk,
conversations with other motorcyclists end pretty
quickly. This
realization set in very early in my solo riding career.
Naturally, one of the first questions other bikers asked was
what kind of bike I rode. I had a Yamaha XS 400 Special, but
when I first learned to ride, I couldn't get the order of
the "XS 400 Special" part of the name right. Suddenly, all
of my enthusiasm for riding, the incredible feeling of
accomplishment of learning to ride, the indescribable
experience of riding some curvy back roads on a sunny day
meant nothing if I couldn't get that name right on the first
try. It
escalated from there. I had to know the other kinds of
bikes; I had to distinguish a dirt bike from a dual sport, a
touring bike from a sport-tourer, a cruiser from a
heavyweight cruiser, including the subsets of Japanese
knockoffs vs. European knockoffs of American
styles. Then
came the name of bikes' major components: shaft, chain or
belt drives; liquid, air or oil cooled; thumper, V-twin,
V-4, flat-two, four or six, parallel twin, in-line-four (or
even six). Do
I dare even discuss all of the accessories? The exhaust
systems alone are...well...exhausting: six-into-six, or two;
four-into-four, two or one; two-into-two or one; fish tail,
slash cut, bologna, megaphone...on and on ad nauseum. Don't
even ask me about fenders, taillights, wheels or
suspensions. I
was about to weakly blame my genetic composition for
prohibiting me from getting all of the terms right when a
male friend told me of his embarrassing experience in this
arena. On his way out to Sturgis in his second year of
riding, a rough-looking biker in a gas station asked him if
his bike had "ape hangers." Not sure what the inquisitor
meant, his mind clicked over to the closest-sounding term he
knew: "eight banger," as in eight cylinders in his engine.
His red-faced response was, "No, just four." (His
embarrassment even made him forget that his bike actually
only had two cylinders.) My friend discovered later the
biker was asking about his style of handlebars. Everyone has
suffered at some point. Just
as I was starting to get more comfortable talking about
bikes, along comes another biker language: riders' hand
signals. I actually found a book that has more than 100
illustrations of hand signals and hand phrases that cyclists
can use to communicate while riding. I agree that some of
these signals are important to the safety of those you are
leading, but many go just a tad too far. Signals for
"bathing" and "work"? I don't think you need to hold lengthy
conversations using hand signals while riding, just pull off
the damn road and talk about it. Maybe
one of these years I'll ignore the simple joys of getting
out and riding and concentrate instead on learning the
important things about motorcycling. You never know when you
may be called upon to discuss the proper names of the
internal components of a single crank pin engine or the
correct hand signal for communicating to other riders, "Wow,
that house sure needs a new roof, doesn't it?" Then again,
maybe not. M.M.M.
Archives,