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Great Article - Degrees of Control by Jeff Hughes

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Posted by: RookWV

Goes along with Keith's post about speed....

By Jeff Hughes

Why is it that he seems content to just roll along, playing those curves in the road like so many riffs drifting easily from a well-worn guitar?

You slide in behind him-or maybe he glides smoothly around in front of you-and within a handful of corners you know there's something special here. It's not his hardware, which might be anything from an ancient BMW Airhead to a years-old Japanese Standard to the latest race-replica tackle. Nor is it his clothing, which, if anything, probably carries a patina of age-the leather or nylon faded from long miles in the sun and spotted from uncounted bug-cleanings. Nor is it just that he's fast, though he probably carries a pretty crisp pace. No, what instantly gets your attention is the utter casualness-the sheer effortlessness-with which he rides along the road, dispatching the curves like so many pieces of candy. There's a relaxed assurance in his demeanor, a perfect confidence in his swift cadence, which gives rise to a certainty of what the next miles will bring. His speed is just-so. We watch for a while-assuming we're able to stay with him-and in our heart of hearts, where our desires stir and our egos live, we couch what we're seeing in the same way we always do. We know some guy, maybe we know lots of guys, buddies who are surely faster than Mr. Smooth and Effortless. Hell, maybe we're faster. But even as we think these things, salve for the ego, we can't escape the growing suspicion that this rider in front of us is just playing. Not with us, but with the road-probably the merest touch of a smile tugging at his lips as he glides through the corners-even as our own heart hammers a staccato beat as we're carried along in the rush behind him. Maybe it dawns on us, in a moment of honesty, that he could just walk away if he wanted. One of those things you just know. So why doesn't he? Why is it that he seems content to just roll along, playing those curves in the road like so many riffs drifting easily from a well-worn guitar? We all talk about being good, about being smooth. Well, there he is, right in front of you. The poster child.In a sport whose very appeal is built around the merits of speed-a sport where our greatest heroes are those who go the fastest, a sport where even the most mundane machinery comes dripping with performance, where even the clothes we wear are based upon the need to attenuate the risk we perceive attendant to that speed-it's hard not to get caught up in the notion that speed is the thing. It's both the yardstick by which we measure ourselves and the mantle in which we wish to be draped. Hell, who doesn't want to be fast?

The corollary, an article of faith repeated so often that it seems to beg any argument, is that speed-too much of it at least -is a bad thing. It's the bogeyman waiting to catch us out any time we cross the imaginary line of too much. Most of us nod our heads when we hear that.

The thing is, that doesn't always jive with our experience. We see guys all the time who manage to crash at quite modest speeds. And we know some-admittedly a much smaller number-who ride really fast, and have for a long time, but who never seem to crash. Not as in they don't crash very often. As in they never crash.

We all undertake a modicum of risk every time we thumb the starter-it's just inherent to the sport. But those of us who choose to adopt a faster pace deliberately assume more of that danger. We knowingly engage the laws of probability in a game of chicken. You play it long enough and you lose. That's what we've always been told, right?

Why is it, then, that such a select group of riders manages to ride at an elevated pace over many miles, weekend after weekend, trip after trip, year after year, with little in the way of mishap? Why are these riders seemingly held apart, aloof, from the carnage which too-often otherwise afflicts our sport? And how is it that so many other riders, traveling at much lesser speeds, still manage to toss away their bikes with such depressing frequency?

Well, maybe we've been looking in the wrong place all along. Maybe, just maybe, it's not about speed after all-at least not in the way we usually think of it. Maybe it's about something else, something as simple as the degree of control we exercise over a span of road.

It might happen on any ride, on any Sunday. We head out with some buddies, or maybe we hook up with that group of guys we were talking to down at the gas station, or maybe that devil on our shoulder is simply a little more vigorous in his exhortations this day. However it happens, we soon get to the road. The good one. The one that brought us out here in the first place. And there, in that mix of camaraderie and good tarmac and adrenaline-laced delight, we find ourselves giving away that which we had sworn to hold tight to-our judgment. It doesn't happen all at once. We give it away a little click here, a little click there, like a ratcheting cord. Soon, rolling through the curves faster and faster and laughing under our helmets all the while, we enter a new realm.

We've all been there. We instantly know we're in a new place because it's suddenly different. Our lines are no longer quite so clean. We're on the brakes more, and we're making little mistakes in our timing. And instead of that Zen-like rush through the corners we enjoyed just moments ago-the state of grace that is the prize of this sport-we're now caught up in the brief slivers of time between corners trying to fix those mistakes. They seem to be coming faster now-both the corners and the mistakes-and there doesn't seem to be quite enough time to do what we need to do, the errors piling up in an increasingly dissonant heap. Our normally smooth riding is suddenly ragged, with an edgy and anxious quality. Inside our helmets the laughter mutes and then is gone altogether, replaced by a grim determination to stay on pace. We start to mutter little self-reproaches with each newborn error.

Soon enough we'll blow it. We'll get into one particular corner too hot-realization and regret crystallizing in a single hot moment-and from that instant until whatever's going to happen does, we're just along for the ride. It will be what it will be. With a touch of luck we'll come away with nothing more than a nervous laugh and a promise to ourselves not to do that again. That and maybe one more little debt to pay. You know, the one we just made to God-if he would please just get us out of this mess we'd gotten ourselves into. Just this one last time, promise.

Just one of those moments, huh?


Posted by: RookWV

(cont.)





It has to do with choices. When we ride a challenging road-at whatever speed-there is an observable, knowable degree of control that we exhibit. Not just over one corner. Not even over just one section. But over the entire road. On some days our mastery is complete-we've chosen to stay well within our own personal skill envelope. On other days-well, on other days maybe we choose to push toward the edge of that envelope. To a place where our mastery begins to diminish. To a place where the degree of control we exhibit gradually decreases. Ultimately, to the tipping point-where all our skills seem to go to hell and gone in one big hurry.



There's a predictability to it. A good rider, riding within his proper envelope, will have none of those moments. There will be no spikes in his heart rate. No sudden bursts of adrenaline. Nothing but a smooth, flowing movement across the road. He will be this side of the tipping point-the tipping point for him. It'll be different for each of us. And it'll vary from day to day, maybe even hour to hour, depending upon how we feel. Sometimes we're in the groove and sometimes we're not. But I think the key is that as long as the rider stays this side of the tipping point, he can probably ride a surprisingly long time without ill effect.



And that's the message. The predictor of bad stuff, the closest thing we have to a crystal ball, are those moments. They are part of the landscape, part of the sport. And they happen to all of us. But for any given rider, they need to be very rare. If they happen with any frequency at all, I'd say the tipping point is at hand. And if that's a place you choose to hang around much, there's probably something very ugly waiting for you not too far down the road.



Think about all those riders who've ever impressed us, like our rider at the beginning of this story. They all seem to have a smooth, fluid, easy quality about them, an assurance which belies any stress or fear. They're always balanced, always in control. I suspect somewhere along the line they've acquired a germ of wisdom, hard-won over many miles, which has given them an appreciation of their own limits. They know where that tipping point is-where their mastery of their bike, the road and the environment begins to slip away-and they long ago made the decision to stay this side of it.



When you do find them testing their limits-surely there's an argument to be made for exploring the edges of one's ability-it's likely to be at a time and place of very careful choosing, and it probably involves a racetrack. Much of wisdom involves simply knowing when and where to lose those impulses that we all carry.



So maybe it's never been about speed after all. Maybe that's why such a small, select group of people are able to ride for years and years without crashing-the fact that they ride fast is secondary to the fact that they're always in control. They know their own limits.



And that's the lesson for the rest of us-at least for those of us who wish to enjoy this sport for a long, long time. There's a choice to be made, every time we thumb the starter.



Not that it's easy. If it were, we wouldn't see the carnage among our ranks that we do every weekend. But for those who manage it, for those who bring restraint and discipline to mix with their skill and daring, there's an upside, even beyond the satisfaction of bringing one's bike and body back unscathed after an afternoon's ride. There's something to be said for gathering up one's powers, like the magician that motorcycle makes us feel like, and wielding them well along a good road. There's art to be found there.



Art and magic.



This article originally appeared in the October, 2003 issue of Sport Rider


Posted by: Falcn

Kind of goes a little astray here and there with the topic - but good point.

This reminds me very much of the "Pace" article.


Posted by: oldetymebiker

Good article; the real issue is though; how do you stay alive long enough to get good enough to stay alive, because the truth is : in order to raise your "limits" as a rider, you must exceed them; and exceeding your limits invites a merging of motorcycle and Armco.

I'm no authority; God knows there are a mutitude of riders smoother and faster than I; but, 33 years after starting to ride, I'm still here with all my parts, and I believe that after mastering the basics of control, it comes down to a couple small things:

A. Attitiude: I don't ride when I'm "off", physically or mentally, when I can't focus 100%. I don't ride during my "I don't ride times"; ie. Holiday weekends, Friday and Saturday eves after 10 pm; and never, ever after consuming alcohol, even one beer. Period.

B. Skill: Little stuff MATTERS; like, is each pull away from a stop as smooth as I can make it; is each shift , up or down, as fast and slick and butter smooth as I can make it? When stopping, can I accurately pick a spot on the road and come to a complete stop right THERE, everytime? Are my turns smooth and an even arc, or a series of scallops and corrections? Can I pick a speed and and entrance point with accuracy, or am I constantly tugging at the brake to make corrections? Am I steering with the brakes, the bars, the throttle and my body, or have I gotten lazy and complacent? Do I drag my feet from a stop, or can I bring them up and put them on the pegs, even before begin feeding out the clutch? Same for stops; can I come to a complete stop, and then put both feet down unhurriedly and smoothly? If I can't do all these little things, I go find me a deserted parking lot and practice till I can.

C. Leave my ego at home. I've been beaten at the track and passed on the street; there's always gonna be somebody faster, smoother, better than me....watch and learn. This olde dawg likes new tricks.


OTB
Looking forward to riding again.


Posted by: PFFOG

Quote:
Originally Posted by oldetymebiker
...................
A. Attitiude: I don't ride when I'm "off", physically or mentally, when I can't focus 100%. I don't ride during my "I don't ride times"; ie. Holiday weekends, Friday and Saturday eves after 10 pm; and never, ever after consuming alcohol, even one beer. Period.

B. Skill: Little stuff MATTERS; like, is each pull away from a stop as smooth as I can make it; is each shift , up or down, as fast and slick and butter smooth as I can make it? When stopping, can I accurately pick a spot on the road and come to a complete stop right THERE, everytime? Are my turns smooth and an even arc, or a series of scallops and corrections? Can I pick a speed and and entrance point with accuracy, or am I constantly tugging at the brake to make corrections? Am I steering with the brakes, the bars, the throttle and my body, or have I gotten lazy and complacent? Do I drag my feet from a stop, or can I bring them up and put them on the pegs, even before begin feeding out the clutch? Same for stops; can I come to a complete stop, and then put both feet down unhurriedly and smoothly? If I can't do all these little things, I go find me a deserted parking lot and practice till I can.

C. Leave my ego at home. I've been beaten at the track and passed on the street; there's always gonna be somebody faster, smoother, better than me....watch and learn. This olde dawg likes new tricks.
OTB
Looking forward to riding again.


OTB

Same philosophy I practice and it has gotten me safely through 30+ years of riding. GREAT post, thanks for putting my thoughts into words as I stink at typing………........................Maybe I should adopt that philosophy to my keyboarding skills.


Posted by: natrona848

That article I have read before but thanks for the posting it. That is exactly what happened to two of the riders I was with on Saturday. They were trying to keep up with James and I on a road that I know very well. James is a faster dude than me but he was staying within his street limit for sure. The next two in line didn't have the same good fortune. Luckily, only the bikes were injured but I'm sure the egos are bruised too. Ride safe and ride hard but please, within your limits everyone.


Posted by: VonKujo

Good article. That is what kept me safe all of these years (not as many as pffog). You have to ride with in your limits and learn where it is safe to push the limits. And when you do feel the right time to push them don't over do it. You will never learn something like riding over night, so you better take your time.

And what Eric is talking about is the easiest way to get yourself in a bad situation. You should never push your limits to try and keep up with another rider (wrong time and wrong place). If the rider you are following doesn't wait for you at the stop sign or next turn then they aren’t worth riding with (and from what I know about Eric I am sure he would have waited for their slow arses ).

I never try to push my skills on a group ride. Those days are to hang with friends and a nice ride. But some new riders may ask when should I push my limits? That is a hard question for anyone but yourself to answer. For me, I push limits on roads that I know so well that I can see them when I close my eyes. These are the roads I know what my current “Pace” is and that allows me to know how much I am pushing that “Pace” when I do. If I am on a road that I have never been on or even have been on a few time I do not know what my “Pace” is. I can not push the limit here because I don’t know what the "Pace" is.

All of this information is the same as the original “The Pace”. But this should show new riders and old riders how important this really is. Burn this into your head and think about it every time you ride. You can’t learn much with a busted body and bike. So keep “The Pace” dude!


Posted by: Falcn

The answer I give new riders on "when" is "Get thee to a track day" - it compresses the learning curve GREATLY when you have instruction and familiar repeating surfaces. You don't have to be a racer to enjoy a track day/school. Another point in the favor of expanding your envelope on the track is - NO CARS, and ambulances are right there in case you do overdo it.

I think the rate a new rider can expand their envelope depends on what bike the newbie has gotten thelmselves for the first bike. Supersports demand much more concentration and throttle/brake skill when "pushing the riders envelope" whereas something with a smaller engine won't react as fast. To me the safety factor is a little higher with a smaller bike.

Seeing the improvements Kristen has made after riding the YSR's on the track solidifies my viewpoint on this. That's not even 1-on-1 training either - that just lets her practice at her own pace on a repeating surface - and lets her concentrate on her riding skills on a bike that isn't going to bite her in the ass.


Posted by: oldetymebiker

I've re-read this article a couple of times since Rook put it up; in re-examining my own crashes, and re-winding those from friends' experiences, they seem to come in a couple basic varieties...the preventable, and the rock falling out of the sky type. Of the latter,there are damn few: ie the tractor-trailer tire that suddenly explodes as a rider is passing, the car that flips over the median and takes out a ride, Bean's attack of the deer episode, and the fur bike from hell episode...sort of "the hand of God" stuff that nobody could avoid... all the rest of them fall into the avoidable catagory.

Of those in the avoidable catagory, there also appear to be two types... the "if I'd only been paying better attention" type, and the "cascading errors" type, that this article addresses. The first falls into basic good riding habits, the second into the lack of good judgement realm; most of us have been there at least once...you know, following that fast "friend" onto new roads and just having to keep up....(on wet leaves).

Perhaps that is all getting older is; a compilation of mental do's and don'ts that allows us to get on down the road in relative safety.


OTB

Missing riding!


Posted by: BlackB12

Pretty good article. I think what's kept me alive and street smart is starting small and GRADUALLY working up. I started street riding when I was 16 on a Yamaha XT250 dualsport. I rode that thing on road and off for a good 7 YEARS before I bought a Bandit 1200. While the 250 was not fast it was the STREET experience that helped me be the rider I am today. In my opinion you have to experience the idiots pulling out in front of you, the blind turns, the cell phone drivers, the wet leaves, etc. to be a good street rider.

Mike


Posted by: 87hurricane

Yeah I agree, slow progression is key. I rode for alot of years before I even considered riding even semi agressively. That way when I did start riding more agressively all of the other aspects of riding were second nature. I'm still gaining experience on every ride, and will continue to for the rest of my life, I don't ever want to stop learning.


Posted by: natrona848

of course i would wait, im a nice guy


Posted by: oldetymebiker

Quote:
Originally Posted by Falcn
I think the rate a new rider can expand their envelope depends on what bike the newbie has gotten thelmselves for the first bike. Supersports demand much more concentration and throttle/brake skill when "pushing the riders envelope" whereas something with a smaller engine won't react as fast. To me the safety factor is a little higher with a smaller bike.

Seeing the improvements Kristen has made after riding the YSR's on the track solidifies my viewpoint on this. That's not even 1-on-1 training either - that just lets her practice at her own pace on a repeating surface - and lets her concentrate on her riding skills on a bike that isn't going to bite her in the ass.



Bravo, Falcn...nobody likes to say it, 'cause it ain't MANLY, but smaller bikes are a LOT more fun to ride quicky, and a LOT harder to be consistant and smooth on, 'cause the key to riding them well is to CARRY speed through the turns...it's fun in the sense that you don't have to worry about lighting up that 8 inch donut coming out of the turn; harder in that it takes a lot of practice to maximize the turning potential of a decent handling small bike...but when you do get it right, it's like playing a musical instrument well, it just flows. It also pays dividends riding a "big" bike, too. You can go faster with less throttle and brake and less drama.

I shoot pistol competitively, and when I find my performance lagging, I first go back to 22 plinking....it lets me examine how I perform the basics...sighting, breath control and trigger control, all without worrying about the muzzle blast and recoil of the big bores; just like riding smaller bikes. They keep us sharp.

KR has a very private school for select roadracers...he trains them on Honda CR 100's (Yep, leetle 100 cc dirt bikes, by God)...he says teaching somebody how to late-brake and powerslide on a 180 hp superbike is almost impossible without killing somebody, but he can teach it on a twelve hp almost-mini bike, and the skills are transferable.


Posted by: Falcn

Stickied thread and added the title to the thread title.

Article Title - Degrees of Control: By Jeff Hughes




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