|
July 30,
2001
 Well, I'm back from my first highway ride by
myself! Hilo to Waimea and back on Ernie's Yamaha Seca. I e-mailed a
friend about my adventures and he wrote back, "Seca 650? That's good commuter, but no taste, haha. What did you
get? And yes in the rain, riding need a lot of stamina even you have a rain-suit. Please take care your self."
So I replied, "Yes - 650. It belongs to my former instructor, now friend. He already
has a
Seca, no longer running, to use for parts for the new (used) one. You
are
right, I found it to be very good for commuting. I think maybe at my
level I do not need good taste, but a healthy meal, haha! Right now I
don't care if
the bike is cool or has personality. I care that it is reliable and I
can
pick it up when I drop it. Ha!"
I learned a lot of things last night - Among them: If I lie down on the
gas tank, the hot air from the engine streams over me and keeps me somewhat
warm. I still need to buy rain gear, so my leathers were very soggy when
I arrived in Waimea! Fortunately the conference location had a dormitory
room
for me to rest in and hot showers - with LAUNDRY facilities, so I dried
my clothing and heated everything before riding out! Oooooh - freshly warm
socks inside my riding boots - very luxurious!
Edit 1/15/2007:
I wrote the following some time later, an essay pieced together from
e-mails I sent to the friend mentioned above, attempting to analyze
various details of that first ride. All I can think now is "God protects
fools and children." I was both.
I was asked to
officiate the opening ceremonies/blessing for a conference. The
conference site is about 70 miles form my home. My beloved Jeep
Cherokee, after almost 300,000 faithful and rugged miles, was no longer
able to make it up the steep gullies I would have to cross to attend.
Due to the large number of conferences and other events that week, there
were no rental cars available on the island, and no one was able to make
the 140 mile round trip to pick me up. I had just completed my MSF
course, and when the conference chair and I discussed the transportation
problem, I laughingly said, "Don't worry, I'll be there if I have to
steal a motorcycle!"
I then proceeded to phone each of my friends to see if I could borrow a
car. Finally, Ernie had a suggestion. "No, Lei, I need my car this
weekend because I have to haul a bunch of stuff. But you can take my
bike." The next morning, before he headed to work, we met and he had me
practice riding around in a parking lot. That afternoon, I caught a ride
to his house, loaded my gear, and headed out. did I mention this was my
first day off the MSF course?
It was overcast and drizzly. As I headed toward Hamakua, a fine mist
sprinkled my visor, evaporating almost as soon as it touched the warm
plastic. I did not yet know I had made a major strategic error. What I
did not do was check the weather report before leaving. So, unknowingly,
I was riding straight for the trailing edge of an arm of a hurricane
which had pounded much of the rest of the state.
By the time I reached the gulches of Hamakua, waterfalls were dancing
down the sides of the cutaways and flowing across the highway, leaving
fist to basketball-sized rocks, and a slick of mud. I followed a
tractor-trailer, well behind the rooster-tail, but close enough to use
the somewhat clearer tire track he created before more fresh mud and
rocks filled it. I chose the track closest to the centerline, reasoning
that the distance from the edge would give me a better chance should a
mudslide, for which the area is famous, head my way.
Finally, the turn-off to Honoka`a appeared and I leaned the bike that
way - but not enough - skittering across the painted lines, I drifted
into the oncoming lane, thanking all Gods and Saints that there was no
on-coming traffic. I headed for the little bead shop, which serves a
high-caffeine espresso, and stopped. I put the kickstand down, and sat
trembling on the bike, unable to climb off. I killed the motor and
waited for feeling to return to my lower extremities.
When my legs and feet began to burn and tingle, I decided I had not done
permanent damage, and looked up at the coffee shop door. It was locked,
and the red "CLOSED" sign was the brightest thing in the gathering dusk.
If the shop was closed, I had less than half an hour to reach my
destination - normally a half hour trip for me by car. Without getting
off, I started the bike back up and continued on, almost dropping the
Seca II as I tried to maneuver back onto the roadway. Youngsters in the
car behind me whooped and cat-called. I was too frightened to care.
Leaving Honoka`a, I had to negotiate one of my greatest bugaboos, which
I have since practiced innumerable times. I am vain enough to say that I
doubt anyone watching today would see the terror and uncertainty with
which I once faced the dreaded "right hand turn uphill from a stop sign
on a steeply left-sloped hill into heavy commuter traffic." The only
thing worse, IMO, is the same situation, but with a left-hand turn. I am
proud that considering it was my first such event, I did not stall,
back-roll, or drop the bike. I did, however make a Gott-hawful racket
revving the engine and slipping the clutch!
At the final turn up the street to the conference site, I had to cross a
dip downslope of a freshly bulldozed field. The mud, I later saw, was
above the rims of my tires. I could see the wakes of the rocks in the
brown soup, and was exceedingly grateful for extra practice my MSF
instructor had given me in the cone weave.
Once out of the soup, I had to negotiate a sharp turn, and then ease the
bike over a freshly painted, and quite high, speed bump, immediately
coming to a stop at the guard shack.
Peering at the security guard through the thickening rain, I tried to
understand his directions, which eventually led me up a pine-needle
covered drive and onto a flagstone-paved path. The covered parking he
had promised was more lovely water-coated flagstones immediately in
front of a huge plate glass window, behind which the conference
attendees were having supper.
I slowly and gracefully lined the bike up with my parking spot, and
"hands pull, feet press, step down," came to a perfect stop. I must have
relaxed some during the latter portion of the trip, because my legs were
working fine. I swung off the bike and proceeded to remove my helmet.
Blinded by the chin bar, I felt a heavy pressure on my right thigh.
Dropping my helmet, I caught the bike and managed to ease the fall
slightly, only bending the clutch lever. Too exhausted to pick the bike
up myself, I asked for help. The bus boys were very kind about assisting
in lifting my ride.
I unloaded the bike and performed my duties.
Still exhausted, I dropped the bike again while trying to turn it around
to go to my room. I had not planned on spending the night, but my
trembling legs and twitching hands convinced me.
I went to bed about 11:00 pm, slept until about 2:30 am or so, and then
headed home. I had to work that morning at 6:00, and then the next day
return to the conference.
The weather had cleared and the full moon lit the road ahead of me. The
cool air chilled my cheeks, but my legs were warmed by the heat from the
engine. If I leaned forward, the warm air collected in a pocket under my
chest.
The moonlight was so bright that the raindrops balanced on the sugar
cane I passed glittered, casting sparks of color into the air. Perhaps
two or three cars lit the road ahead of me, causing me to watch the
white line to my right, and then passed on, pools of light and a pair of
red dots shrinking in my mirrors. My own headlamp was a source of
comfort, and I began to lose the terror the previous day had engendered.
The hum of the engine was soothing at about 4,000 RPMs, which translated
to around 45 MPH on that grade.
My comfort zone began rapidly shrinking as the gulches drew closer. In
some places, the road has a third lane for passing, as a heavily laden
truck must be in low gear to climb out. But this is not true in all of
the bends.
Remembering the rocks and mud of a few hours before, I slowed to about
25 mph, and eased near the center. Cars have been crushed by rocks
falling from those cliffs. I do not ride near the walls. And though the
road had been cleared, the shoulders still were covered in rocks, mud,
branches, and broken glass. Why some people find throwing beer bottles
at the cliffs amusing, I do not know.
Approaching a bend, I noticed the lights of an oncoming vehicle - high
and throwing a long pool. Most certainly a large truck. I started
drifting toward my right, to be equidistant between the shoulder/cliff
and the truck.
I might have thought that the oncoming tractor-trailer had unusually
bright lights. But if I thought that, I might also have attributed the
brightness to the moon shining down between the cliffs. It was neither.
It was the lights of another tractor-trailer, overtaking the first, and
fully in my lane.
My certainty that I must avoid the debris-strew shoulder was equal to my
terror of the oncoming truck. I had not yet reached the center of my
lane, and, I suspect, instinctively the driver of the truck swerved
toward his left, either to avoid me, or to avoid the other truck. I
headed between the trucks, between the two yellow stripes.
It was like her
instructor's voice was shouting inside her helmet, "LOOK AT YOUR LINE OF
TRAVEL!!! LOOK ONLY AT YOUR LINE OF TRAVEL!!!" And she was between the
trucks but couldn't see them, she could only see a double yellow stripe
before her front tire, and then she was in the clear rolling along the
most beautiful strip of shining wet asphalt ever laid!
Why did I choose that path? Sometimes I think an angel grabbed my
handlebars and pulled me through. Sometimes I think it was sheer blind
luck. Sometimes I think it was an instinctive reaction - I saw the tires
of the two trucks turn slightly away from me, and honored that in my own
response. Or perhaps it was even more basic an instinct than that - like
a rabbit, I dove for the clearest hole ahead of me.
I think I was in shock for the rest of the ride. Once in town, I dropped
the bike two more times, a total of two drops on each side in about 14
hours. the final time was right in front of the friend who had loaned it
to me, as he yelled, "THE CLUTCH! PULL IN THE CLUTCH!!!"
I thanked him for loaning me his motorcycle, and walked home. Once
safely home, I was stricken with great waves of nausea, and for several
nights, I dreamed of muddy rock-strewn roads and tractor-trailers.
Knowing what I know now, I would NEVER recommend a new rider, with no
road experience, do what I did. My grandmother used to say, "God
protects fools and children." I must have been both.
August
5,
2001
Seca has been good commuter wheels, if a bit more damp than I might
always want.
We had the tail of a hurricane
dragging over the island through most of the conference, so I've learned
to ride through three inches of mud (eeeeeeewwww), three inches of
running water, dodge Hamakua road rocks (BOY am I glad Ernie gave
me extra offset cones practice), and use the engine for a personal space
heater. Mostly it was misting from Hilo to Honoka`a, and then pouring
from Honoka`a to Waimea. Hawi side of Kamuela Town it
would be misty again.
Thursday it was POURING from Hilo to
Hawi. By Friday the romance was starting to wear off, and I was
kind of dreading yet another day of playing Rider of the Storm. But Laupahoehoe to Honoka`a was to make angels sing and I
got mostly dried out in the warm wind. The storm had scrubbed everything
clean, each blade of grass was catching the light in shimmering dew
drops and throwing rainbows in the air. The ocean was shining such
a bright blue it almost hurt my eyes, and the sky was even brighter. How
joyous!
August
9
I now have my OWN motorcycle! He is a Honda
Nighthawk - CB450SC. Purchased him from Kaiser Honda in Kailua and drove
him home today. His name is `Io-i-ka-po, Hawk in the Night.
August
15
I'm
sooooooooooooooo happy!
I
can start from an up-hill stopsign without falling over or killing the
motor. I'm sooooooooooooooooooooo happy!
It's
the little things that count.
August
16
Today I was stopped in traffic, and a
girl in a truck with extended fenders decided to change lanes and
squeeze through - I could not back up, and she did not respond to my
Nighthawk's "beep! beep!" Her right rear fender caught my
front tire and dragged me over. Glad I was wearing a heavy long-sleeved
jacket/shirt. That would have been some serious road rash.
I called Ernie to help me get the bike started.
I thought it had broken, but it was just flooded. WHEW!
August
17
Wow!
It sure has been fun commuting on two wheels instead of four! But I
don't think replacing a 4WD high-luggage-space vehicle was really what
motorcycles were designed for. At Keola Beamer's conference earlier this
week I came in for some teasing showing up with the bike loaded
down with rolls of lauhala, ti leaves for lei making, baggies of
feathers, etc. Had to take the class materials in stages. Fortunately a
friend with a van took the tools, leftovers, etc. at the end of the
conference and hauled it all back to Hilo for me, so I only had to carry
a couple of bags back.
Had fun
riding the Old Red Road Roller Coaster. The Nighthawk's suspension
didn't feel like it would be good to take airborne, but `Io and I did
have fun seeing how CLOSE we could get to zero-G while still
maintaining contact between tires and asphalt!
My
log book says I'm now averaging 100 miles per day since I bought
`Io. Yesterday was out to Kapa`au to meet a client - 187 miles RT from
my hale. Fun, fun, fun going from Waimea to Kawaihae! I was a bit
concerned, however when I went through a couple of spots of strong
crosswinds. I was kind of wishing I was back on the Seca. I think
another hundred pounds down low would have helped. It's kind
of a strange sensation to be leaning so far over and not turning. Also, I'm
more ma`a to drifting sideways across water than across a street -
a bike is NOT a canoe. And,
I kept worrying that the wind would suddenly STOP! Wind died down by
evening, so coming home was more comfortable.
August
24
I danced with my motorcycle! I went up to Pu`u Huluhulu
this AM to practice yesterday's lessons. Struggled all the way up -
right hand corners were coming along, but left handers were AWFUL! Tried
to stay in the right-hand tire track at a steady 50, but was all
over road as well as the speedometer. Got to Pu`u Huluhulu and
practiced tight figure-8s at varying speeds on the dirt and
pahoehoe. I figure if I can master them there, I can do them on asphalt.
A ways to go, but only felt a need to stick my foot out once.
Coming
home, continued to (slooooooowly) improve my right hand curves, but the
lefties remained a problem - Then I got distracted by the incredible
beauty I was driving through, took a deep breath and kind of forgot I
was doing something new, difficult, and scary. WOW! What an
incredible feeling! Am I weird, or is
this is why people get addicted to their motorcycles -
All
of a sudden it was as if I could see farther down the road, even where
it disappeared. And it seemed like I just KNEW where the bike and I were
in relation to the environment. It was as if I could feel what the
road was going to do, even more than see it, and it felt as if my body
was echoing the turns of the road. There was an incredible fluidity and
lightness, but at the same time, I had more control of the bike than
ever before. For a few brief moments, it was as if all conciousness of
the distinctions between myself, the motorcycle, and the environment slipped
away, and to be anywhere on the road, all I had to do was be there. I
didn't have to think "look," or "lean," or "roll,"
or "press," or anything. Head, hands, hips, knees,
bar, weight, wheels, all were one holistic entity delighting in
dancing with a strip of time and space in incredible beauty.
Does
that make sense? Or do I sound like I had an intense brush with
hypothermia up there? My hands are only now starting to warm up.
August
31
OK, I figured it out. If I put my jacket over the instrument
housing and use it for a pillow, I can put my feet on the luggage
rack and take a nap on the bike.
Also learned that for cross-island
hauls I can just pull over, stay sitting on `Io, cross my arms on
the bar and put my head down for 5 minutes and I'm ok for another 45 to
an hour.
But now that I have actually gone out and purchased
(OUCH!!!) saddlebags, I can travel in luxury, taking along my
sleeping bag and a ground cloth. If it's raining, I'm back up on the
bike and the drop cloth goes over BOTH of us. There are times when I
really miss the Cherokee. Trailer will be a little while - new chain,
etc. has priority.
Got
$100 for the Cherokee, best of three offers:
#1
wanted me to pay $45 for him to come get it.
#2
would come get it and not charge me.
#3
gave me $100 cash. He has a couple of others at his lot. His son
will turn the three into one functional South Point Surf-mobile. I guess
mine has the best tranny, one of the others has a decent motor, and the
third actually doesn't have too much rust. I was really glad I got down
to Bayfront 15 minutes before he arrived - Had to add fluid, pump up the
clutch, bleed the lines, and futz with the wires. After he agreed
to pay me, he climbed out of the car to give me my money, and the door
fell off. It was like something out of a Three Stooges movie. Hey - I
gave him three boxes of spare fuses, spare belts, and a box of clutch
and power steering fluid. That's $50 right there!
September
2
The
ride from Hilo to Kona was BEAUTIFUL - left my home about 3:00 a.m., broke above the clouds at about the 15 mile
marker. Deep blue sky and hard pointed stars behind, a milky moonlit sky
ahead. At the lava flats, high altitude clouds drew two perfect
concentric moonbows about the moon, circling her with bands of
opalescent color.
The cold, though, was biting, and I had to warm my
hands on the engine as they kept going numb - and that was WITH my
Kevlar-and-Thinsulite gauntlets! When I got lower again, I stopped and
pulled out my thermos of coffee and watched the clouds cross the moon as
I drank, warming my hands on the hot cup. I un-Velcro-ed my gauntlets,
and wrapped them around the pipes, and sat with my socks up against
the housing so that I would have warm hands and when I started
again!
I came
over for the Motorcycle Rodeo, a fundraiser for Toys for Tots. Very
fun day - I had never done any such thing before. Much different than I
had anticipated or been told to expect. Very family, and I will have a
couple of new hula students join the Kona contingent of the halau.
After
we were pau cleaning up last night, the rest of the crew stayed at the
old Hilton, but I decided to go
home via Ka Lae, forging Saddle Road as I was not wanting to get
so cold again within 24 hours. I drove by friends' homes, but they looked like they were already
into their plans and I did not want to disturb them.
WOW! Went down to the point and headed out over one
of the old roads until I felt too guilty to keep using `Io for an
Enduro. Parked behind a kiawe bush and pulled out my sleeping
bag. The moon was so bright it was hard to see her features without
hurting your eyes. Shadows were hard and sharp edged, each blade of
grass and twig of kiawe defined by black outlines. `Io stood
like a pony in an old western, faithful and enduring, waiting for me in
the moonlight. I slept maybe an hour and a half, but the moon was so
bright and beaconing I could not waste such a perfect night by
sleeping.
So home we ran, taking the most interesting possible routes.
As one mechanic friend says, the Honda 450cc is a "happy"
sounding engine - when we pass cut-aways or solid banks of trees it
has a throaty chuckle, and in wide places it sings with laughter.
Had to go on reserve at the top of Mt. View and just made it into the
Kea`au Shell station. (Thank goodness for cell-phones! Worst case
scenario - I'd have had to pull over and phone my road-side assistance
plan and have them bring me a jug of gas. ) Walked in the door to my
hale and looked at the kitchen clock - 3:00 a.m. - I had left at 3:00
a.m. the morning before.
September
5
I was sooooooo tired today. Got home from running
errands and I was simply trying to put the kickstand down, leaned it over
too far tried to catch it, stuck my foot in a grease puddle, and ended up
sitting on the garage floor with the Nighthawk in my lap like a big steel
dog.
September
18
It's amazing how fast one's perspective can
change. I've been without the Cherokee for almost two months now, and been
riding a motorcycle as primary transportation for about 40 days. My friend
Rod came
over for diner and then offered to drive us down to Kosmic Cones for
dessert. I was AMAZED at how thrilled I was to be able to RIDE in a CAR!
It was such a TREAT! Wow! It's dry and warm, carries lots of stuff,
and doesn't fall over if you do something wrong! You don't even have to
put your foot out when you stop!
The other evening, after hula practice, I
asked a Japanese friend who is a Honda mechanic to listen to `Io because I was hearing a strange hissing
sound. He said, "Oh, that is kamuchen."
Kamuchen - I know it's a Japanese bike, but even still, people generally
refer to the parts by English names. I've read my Clymer cover-to-cover
over and over. I cannot figure out what it is, a "kamuchen."
Suddenly I realize, it's a "cam chain." Duhhh.
October 1,
2001
It is a full moon tonight. I continue my love
affair with moonlight riding.
Coming down the Saddle the trees were drawn in
black ink on dust-grey silk. The clouds formed a sea of undulating opal. I
dropped into the clouds, and they parted and swirled around me, almost
tangible, chill breath in my face, then misted away. Coming around a
bend, my headlight swept across a pale owl which lifted on silent wings
and paced me, left wingtip almost touching my right hand. When the
road curved left, my friend banked right, leaving me with an
afterimage of grace.
October
8, 2001
Well, I thought I'd
been through some pretty stiff winds, but last Friday taught me different.
Hawaiians love to name things, and when it comes to wind - we have a name
for each kind and direction of wind from every district of our islands.
Riding through the district of Kohala, I had the
opportunity to experience Ka Makani Apa`apa`a (he Parching Wind) from the
back of my Honda Nighthawk 450. What an interesting experience! I do not
have a wind-speed indicator on my bike, but a couple of gusts hit me from
behind, skidding me briefly forward. For a while I had a steady tailwind.
My speedometer read 60 mph, and the breeze across my face was so gentle,
it felt as if I was not even moving. Heading into the wind I had the
throttle rolled all the way open and was barely able to make 50 mph in 4th
and 5th gears. In my 6th gear, I just bogged down.
When the side winds swept around me, I had to
keep driving toward the shoulder as I was being blown across the road. I
also had the added challenge of carrying a load (I was supposed to do a
hula show so I was carrying costumes, my ukulele, and a set of Hawaiian
drums on the back of the bike), so the effect was as if I had a sail on
the back of the bike. When the wind would catch my load, the back of the
bike would be swept sideways.
One of the more interesting sensations was that
of leaning the bike toward the outside of turns to get around them -
basically driving away from the turn and letting the wind blow me around
the corner. My great fear was that the wind would suddenly die during the
maneuver.
When I reached home, I phoned and e-mailed
several really experienced riders and asked how I should have handled
strong, gusting, shifting winds. I was told the best way is to stay off
the road.
In this case, that was not an option. By the time
I realized that the winds were a serious challenge, I was out in the
middle of lava flats, no shelter, and there was a serious possibility that
the wind would blow into a full storm, which would have left me trapped
out there, at least an hour drive from the nearest shelter. So, with that
long preamble, here is a link to Hula
Rider's Tips on Riding in the Teeth of the Wind.
October
15, 2001
Dumped ol' whatz-iz-face today. After he
proposed, when we were discussing the specifics of integrating two lives,
he said, "And of course once we are married you won't need the
bike. I'll sell it for you." I was so shocked I didn't say anything
then, but as soon as he got home I e-mailed him that everything was off.
He still thinks there was another guy. But I just figure that anyone
who would want a person to give up something they love so much will be
problematic in other areas, too.
October 31,
2001
Happy Halloween!
"Like
a true nature's child, I was born, born to be wild!
Bo-o-o-o-o-orn to be
wild!"
It's not the heat that gets to you, it's
the fleas.
 Ummmm,
yes, it really is Hula Rider.
December, 2001
It's been a challenging year since 9/11. The economy
has been the pits. I've had to take on a bunch of little part-time jobs to
make ends meet. Thank the Lord for my bike! I could not have afforded to
keep a car on the road. 
And
I can still carry a bunch of stuff - paint and tools! And who would have
thought that a Honda Nighthawk can double as a lawn tractor! 
|
|
|
Learning
to get comfortable with your bike