As a person who has tried to understand and perfect the mystery of braking, I have worked on many techniques to aid in my own personal skills.  One that I have found has helped me the most involves a bit of creativity and the bike on its side/center stand, believe it or not!!!  Before I even get out on the road or during the times where I cannot get and ride as often, I sit on my bike and practice rolling off the throttle and reaching for the front brake.  I practice squeezing that front brake firmly, progressively, and really pay attention to where it feels harder to squeeze.  Many people have the problem of initially grabbing the front brake (me included) so I really work on making sure my roll off to my initial squeeze of the brake is very smooth, steady, and applied with consistent, even pressure.  Then, I let creativity take over…..

Once I have a good feel for my technique, no pun intended J, I add in a visualization component.  Yes I know, that sounds really corny and I never believed that type of stuff would work, but for some reason it has made a huge difference in my reaction to the unmentionable, awful events that can occur on the road.  I pretend I am riding with the throttle rolled on and visualize something happening…a car turning in front of me, the stoplight changing super fast, a critter hopping out on the road, etc.  I train myself not to freak out and to just roll off and squeeeeezzzzzzzzeeeeeee smoothly and progressively really working on not grabbing the brake at all.  Finally, I practice this by adding rear brake pressure as well-remember just a little bit of rear brake is all one needs!!.  (This allows me to develop muscle memory for each separate motion without losing focus on what I am doing overall.)  Now, when I am out on the road, I am able to much more effectively control the jerkiness that I once had when I was not expecting something. If you haven’t guessed, I am the person who will scream when someone comes up behind me and scares me!!!

The basic design of motorcycle brake systems consists of two dissimilar metals (or organic combinations) which are forced together and create heat.  Much like sanding wood, the pads and the wood will get warm depending on the amount of pressure and the roughness of the sandpaper.  Both disc brakes and drum brakes will work the same manner, but discs are more efficient at dissipating the heat built up while drums are better at protecting the brake surface from the environment.  Disc systems consist of a caliper which houses the pads and pistons.  The pistons move under hydraulic pressure and press the pads against the rotor (sandpaper on wood example).  The pressure is from the brake fluid which is moved by the master cylinder (that thingy attached to the brake lever) which in turn was moved by your hand/foot. 

Whew, that’s a lot of items and each one can fail, but not if kept maintained.  Most owners manuals will reference a timeframe (miles and months usually, check yours) and recommend a “qualified mechanic” perform the work. Brake fluid is nasty stuff, it’s is a hygroscopic (absorbs water) glycol (destroys livers and paints).  This means the ambient moisture can be absorbed into the fluid and now a water/brake fluid mix results.  Brake feel at the lever feels mushy, and force required is greater then designed for optimum braking performance.  Water also corrodes metal components of the brake system, and if left long enough, will make the braking action become, “sporty”.  For those with drum brakes, these are mostly controlled by a mechanical cable (yeah! No fluid!) but the cable stretches and creates the same “feel” that old brake fluid has.  This means staying on top of the cable adjustment and luckily, the design of the drum brakes already includes a self-adjuster. 

Back to that sandpaper analogy, the longer you use the same piece of sandpaper, the less effective the sandpaper becomes, so too with brake pads or shoes (for drum brakes).  Changing them out upon manufacturers recommended time table is the minimum and really should become one of those items to be checked on a more regular basis.  Pads, shoes, rotors and drums all are matched with each other, here again follow manufacturer recommendations is highly encouraged.  If you choose not to go with OEM products, be prepared for a different feel from the pads or shoes. 

When you see us moving past you quickly:

Don't take offense or think we're trying to "show off". Ninety five percent of the time, we're trying to get out of your blind spot or taking ourselves out of a potential dangerous situation that has evolved around us.

Distancing ourselves from you does not mean we want to race, but that we're giving ourselves the edge we need at the moment.

When you hear our horn:

Don't take offense or think we're trying to aggravate you.  All we're doing is letting you know where we are in relation to you on the road, and we're more than likely aware of your inattentiveness to us while you're talking on a cell phone, eating, reading or involved in some other distracting aspect to your driving. It's important to us, and you, that you know we're there.

When you hear our loud pipes:

Don't become angry and hostile toward us. Yes, some are quite loud, but for some, there's a purpose behind being loud. It's about letting you know we're close by and we're constantly hoping that our investment in this accessory will help save our lives. Our pipes are really not about our ego...it's a pride and personalization to our form of transportation.

When you see us in our clothes:

Don't become fearful of us or think us weird. Our leather jackets, chaps, gloves and boots are the barriers between loosing massive amounts of flesh should something cause us to go down...nothing more, nothing less. Safety gear is paramount to our riding. We wear patches on our jackets, and pins on our vests. These are symbols of pride and honor within our group(s), individuals giving back to those who gave. These things bond us as a brotherhood and sisterhood among bikers. Not that we're better than anyone else, but that we have the same kind of nobility and pride in our accomplishments as you may have in the various aspects of your life. I guess one could say; our patches and pins are the decals and the bumper stickers of our involvement with society and the general public, of which we are very pleased to be a part of in our own little way.

When you see us in a restaurant:

You don't have to shield your child or feel intimidated. We have family, wives, husbands, children and loved ones too, just like you. We smile; we laugh and enjoy the moments we have. We are approachable, and would befriend you, if given the opportunity.

When you see us in a parking lot:

Don't convince yourself that we're there to "get you". More than likely, we just finished a long ride and are taking a break. Or, we may be meeting up with other riders for a charity run for young children, or another very worthy cause. We may just be admiring one another's bikes, sharing our pride with other brothers and sisters, just like you do with your personal vehicle.  It's what we do...it's a part of our lives, and we'd be more than welcome to share with you what riding a bike is all about...if you'd only ask.

When you see aggressive riding bikers:

Don't put us all in the same stereotypical category as those whose behavior and actions would cause you to react in disgust and intolerance. Many of us do not agree with this style of riding either, and we know and understand that human nature tends to blend us all together as the "same group". Most of us don't want that title...and don't deserve it.

When you see a group of bikers on the roadways:

Give us the courtesy of sharing the road with you.  Please don't "move in" between several bikers in formation. This gets us very excited and nervous, especially when it's done with no due regard for our safety.  Provide us with your awareness of the fact that we are much more vulnerable than you. We don't want to challenge you, for all of us are wise enough to know...we'd lose that battle.

When you are turning left or entering a roadway/highway:

Look, then look again...and then one more time. For we can be easily hidden, and appear to be invisible by such things as a telephone pole, another vehicle, bright lights or the glare of the sun...or possibly, the beads hanging from your rearview mirror, among numerous other items that are displayed there. If you see us flashing our lights at you or blowing our horn, we're only trying to ensure that you will see us before tragedy changes both our lives.

When you are behind us:

Please give us the room we need and don't tailgate us. If you hit us, we're going down...HARD! We don't want to play games with you, we just want to enjoy the ride and the fresh air, and experience that which many of you have never lived for. If we accelerate away from you, don't interpret this action as though we want to drag race you. We're only trying to take ourselves out of a bad situation if you insist on being too close.

When, and if, you experience road rage:

Don't take it out on us just because we're smaller than you and more vulnerable. Think about what you're doing and the end result that may become a reality. The consequences of your actions and choices could be very detrimental to our well being, our families, our children and our loved ones.  Yes, there are those that can tend to piss you off, however, rage towards them will not solve the issues, but accentuate them. Nine out of ten bikers will do everything they can to take themselves out of that situation without causing you or them harm.

When you have an opportunity to talk to us:

You'll discover, outside any influenced or stereotypical mindset you may have, that we are just as human as you are, just with different interests and toys. Many of us would give you the shirt off our back if it would tend to brighten your day or console you in some way. We're really no different...and we drive cars, trucks and vans too. So, meet us and greet us...I think you'll be pleasantly surprised that you'll be met with open arms.

Thank You for attempting to understand. Ride Safe!

PLEASE COPY & PASTE THIS AND POST IT EVERYWHERE, EMAIL IT EVERYWHERE , JUST SPREAD THE WORD AND MAKE THE ROADS SAFER FOR EVERYONE.

When I took the Motorcycle Safety Training class, we were told over and over again: when approaching a curve—slow down and look.  But what do you do when there is no warning of a curve and you can't see one coming? 

Jynean and I were riding in Central Alabama on an unfamiliar road that parallels with U.S. Highway 82.  At one time the road we were on was the main road between Columbus, MS and Tuscaloosa.  When the 4-lane highway was built, the engineers straightened out the many curves and left open the remaining sections of the old highway, now named Pickens County Road 30.  

Pickens County is one of the poorest counties in that almost all of the secondary roads are unpaved and the paved ones are not maintained.  On one rare mowing of the roadside, the mower cut down the sign that warned drivers of an impending curve.  A sign with a bold forward-pointing arrow and totally faded red symbol appears just before the road drops and curves to the left and a busy 4-lane highway about 50 yards away awaits the unwary. 

I was leading and Jynean was far to my rear when we went for a ride on this seemingly serene, beautiful road.  Suddenly, I was on my brakes and downshifting and before I had a conscious thought, I could hear Jynean’s tires squealing, then a loud crash.  In shock I pulled my bike (we were both riding Yamaha 650s) to the side of the road, hit the kill switch, turned the key and got off.  I turned around and saw her lying on her right side in a fetal position, head first against an embankment; I ran to her and heard her moaning and could get no response. I needed to call 911 immediately, but I'd left my cell phone at home.  I picked up hers and found it crushed and unusable.  

I turned and ran to the four-lane highway and stood holding the phone open and pointing up the hill.  The scene could be observed if a passenger or driver turned his/her head, but no one stopped for the longest time.  Finally several cars pulled up and some people came running; I asked someone to call 911.  Another woman (Angela) told me she was a nurse and took over until the EMTs arrived, and another woman handed me an unfamiliar phone to use to call family but I had to ask her to make the call for me.  After the EMTs came, Angela (Angel) told me she had just attended her mother's funeral and now had to leave. 

I could go on and on with this saga, but the summary of her injuries is four broken ribs, a broken collar bone, a broken shoulder blade, lacerated liver, damaged kidney and adrenal gland, concussion, and a partially deflated lung.  She has a sprained wrist and road rash where her leather jacket sleeve was pushed up; those were the only visible signs of the crash.  She was unconscious for hours and couldn't answer simple questions for two days.  She still has no memory of the accident.  I'm happy for her because I certainly do.

I'll leave you to your own conclusions of what would have happened if she hadn't worn a 3/4 helmet with face shield, a leather jacket, jeans, and high boots.  After a week spent in ICU and Critical Care, she was sent home where the real job began.  Having to be fed, wiped, waited on hand and foot is not for the faint-hearted.  At least not for those who have & the drive to be in constant motion, like Jynean.

Jackson

   I was sweating as I struggled into my boots, jacket, helmet, gloves, jeans.  And if the truth be told, swearing a little bit, too.   I told Jynnie, "I remember how much fun it used to be to ride before you had to dress for war before jumping on your bike."  Memories of the Sisters we'd met at the 2007 Rally passed through my head:  lovely long hair caught back by bandannas, fringed sleeveless vests flying in the wind, young ecstatic faces.   Well, I'm not young (65 in June), I don't have long hair, and I don't have a fringed vest.  But I do have good sense most of the time.

   I saddled up and prayed there would be no red stop lights on hills when I reached the small city (Columbus, MS) just across the Mississippi state line.   Just the thought of sitting on an steep incline causes me to break out in hot sweat and my stomach to contract.  This does not prevent  me going into hilly cities but I do have vivid visions of slowly rolling backward on my bike, trying to keep it upright, running, and God help me, not falling down.

   Ahhh, I made it and said an exuberant prayer of thanks, actually two of them, when I hit the flat, even streets near my appointment.  The kids were getting out of school so I obediently wobbled along at 15 MPH while watching carefully for some youngster to dash in front of me.  There were long lines of cars on both sides of the two-way, two lane street, parents waiting to pick up young'uns.  There was another line of cars on a side street, waiting at the stop sign for a break in the traffic.  I watched a young woman in a new Taurus approach the sign, ahead and on the right of me.  She stopped, looked conscientiously to her right, and still looking right, pulled in front of me.  Let me see now, should I just lay the bike down (that might hurt), swerve to the left (that'll hurt for sure as she will run over me), swerve to the right (I'll really get hurt as I'll be sandwiched).  So I did the correct thing and drove right into her.  (I DID do the correct thing, didn't I???).

   I sprang up from the hot asphalt , acting as though I did this trick on a routine basis, as I had quite an audience.   I hit the "kill" switch on my bike, remembering the only thing that came to mind from my Motorcycle Safety Course.   As I was performing for a crowd, I thought I'd really wow them by taking off my helmet and letting them see my gray hair and wrinkles.   As I stood around waiting for the cops to make their report, I sang tunelessly (of course) "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" to get sympathy and was rather amazed when one of the officers sang after me, "...by a Taurus!."

   I survived my hit with only bruises and a scraped up Yamaha Silverado 650 with 1, 143 miles on it.  And I did so because I had on all the apparatus that I had earlier fussed about.  My helmet was scratched, proving I would have hit my head if I had been wearing my wolf bandanna instead; my gloves were scuffed, having saved my hands, and I don't know about the injuries to my jacket (which has protective pads in all the right places) because I can't bring myself to look at it yet.

   The excellent article, "Survival Mode - The Human Element," by HogWoman says a lot about being especially careful in intersections:  I want to encourage my Sisters to do something that wasn't given much shrift in the article - please, please, please think about safety over beauty and the air through your hair.