The Scene

THE SCENE

IVAN J. WAGAR

THIS column is a tribute to our office nubiles, Big Red and Zelda Mini, otherwise known as Editorial Assistants Trainer and Fotiou. They learned how to ride the other day. So the Editorial Department is now 100 percent hip on two wheels.

That's no big deal in the great scheme of motorcycling, but the girls enjoyed the learning process, as it was accomplished with a minimum of trauma.

We've collectively taught many people to ride motorcycles, and it seems that our teaching sessions, when most successful, followed a common pattern.

Here’s how it went with Red and Zelda :

The setting was a flat dirt parking lot at Saddleback Park. Big enough to get going about 20 mph and do easy figure eights.

The bikes were two of our test machines, the Honda SL125 and the Kawasaki 125E. Both are docile machines, light, easy to handle. The girls particularly liked the fact that these two trail bikes were easy to start.

Step One: We showed them the controls, and how to start the bikes. And most important, we showed them-slowly and patiently-how to stop.

Step Two: We put the girls on the machines and sat behind them. We reached around front and operated the throttle and clutch. Their hands were placed over ours on the controls, so they could get a feel for clutch and throttle coordination. Then it was a matter of running through several starts and stops, gear changes to second and back (no higher), and some turning maneuvers. Then we repeated the operation, allowing them to work the controls directly. And then, reluctantly (snuggle, snuggle), we proceeded to the next step.

Step Three: The girls soloed, in first gear only, as we trotted alongside. Again, several starts, several stops, finding neutral, several figure eights, several gearshifts from first to second.

The whole process to Step 3 took only I 5 or 20 minutes. The important attitude on the part of the teacher was one of patience, not getting mad if the girls confused things, and asking if they wanted to stop and rest to collect themselves or relax a tense clutch hand.

Then we took tl\em for a slow ride up a graded road. It was a lot slower than we’d ride the road ourselves, but well worth the time. The girls had learned to go a few miles, safely, and not to ride over their heads, or rush things.

Patience is the key element of teaching a novice to ride. Not everyone is a born hot-shoe. Speed and balance are different things to different people.

For example, after covering about three miles of dirt under our watchful eyes, Big Red commented: “That was the biggest adventure I’ve undertaken in my life.’’

“What’s that?’’ we said.

“Riding the Saddleback perimeter road.”

Before you say that’s no big deal, think back to when you first peered over a 300-foot cliff from your twowheeled perch, and actually had to think about which foot you used to hit the back brake, and which way you turned that thing on the handlebars to shut the power off.