Learning to Ride a Motorcycle

There are to two ways to learning to ride a motorcycle: the school of hard knocks or an actual school. Read this article by the experts at Wheels In Motion to know how the right choice can save your life!

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Learning to ride
by Jackie Vaughan

I was a motorcycle hater. No one loathed bikes like I did. Then my husband bought his brother's little Yamaha 200 cc two-stroke. My husband had never ridden and the evil thing had tossed him off the back once when his brother gave him a ride.

My husband's first effort wasn't pretty. Remember that I hated motorcycles and was diametrically opposed to his having it. He got about four blocks from his brother's house, with me following in the car. He had about 35 miles to go through Houston freeway traffic once he got out of the neighborhood. He kept dumping the clutch and stalling the engine. In frustration, he revved the engine and popped the clutch. The little beast was torquey and promptly popped a wheelie across the empty intersection and up into the yard across the street, where it fell over. My husband jumped up, knowing that if the bike hadn't killed him, I was probably going to, and the bike with him. He yelled that he wasn't hurt, but the bike was damaged. I went racing back to his brother's house, yelling that it was Larry's fault his brother was almost killed. Larry came running, expecting to find scattered parts of human and machine. Instead, there was a broken lever and a bent gear shift. The bike went back to Larry's and my husband went home.

A friend kindly took Robert out on his Suzuki 380 and taught him the fundamentals. That same afternoon, Robert managed to make it home unscathed. Talk about dumb luck!

In the following two or three months, the malevolent machine, named Critter, managed to pop a weld in the header, almost deafening him before it was fixed, foul its plugs, and toss him into the road and smashing its new windshield when he hit a patch of ice.

Critter soon had a big brother, an magnificent 1978 Yamaha XS 11, macho maroon in color. It was a big 4-stroke and I was instantly in love. Robert had never carried a passenger, but we were too dumb to realize how much experience is needed.

I inherited Critter. Robert moved the bike into the street in front of our house and I got on. At least I knew to wear a helmet and long pants. He walked beside me as I made tiny progress. Then he ran beside me. At least we weren't dumb enough to have him on the back of the bike as some people do. I got independent and took off and left him. When I got to the end of the block, I confused the brake and the clutch and ran into the intersection. A car was coming and the woman slammed on her brakes. She had no front bumper and the huge "crashbars" got caught on the bumper mount, pulling me and the bike against the car. She said some things I richly deserved and I profusely apologized. We gave her $20 for the broken bumper mount and I walked the bike back home, limping from the huge bump and technicolor bruise that immediately formed. It was not a propitious start to riding.

I managed to get a little better in the following days and thought I was flying when I hit 20 mph. My husband finally coaxed me to venture out of the neighborhood onto a back road. He said it would be a lot easier and more fun.

There was only one small problem. There was a slight slope onto the main road. I couldn't coordinate brake, clutch, and throttle to get started. I sat there for an hour and a half. Traffic was backed up to the back of the subdivision and horns were honking angrily. Some whipped around me. I covered the tank with tears of frustration.

The gods of motorcycling must have taken pity on me, because I finally got out onto the road. Wheee! I was roaring along at about 30 when a car passed me. It scared me to death.

I finally got the hang of it and we made jaunts of about 150 miles with the friend who taught Robert the basics.

We had an accident on the XS 11 because of inexperience and lack of knowledge. Some cosmetic damage to the bike and a broken wrist for me. Robert was on the front, and took the pockets out of his pants. We were very, very lucky that time. We both got back to riding.

Critter continued its evil ways, throwing its chain and flattening a tire. Then, in 1980, Yamaha created the Maxim, and I was in love! I got one of the first in the city. I put a color matched full fairing on it and went out to play with the big boys. It made my heart smile.

The third day I had it, I was making a right-hand turn when the truck in front of me stopped abruptly. I was already leaned to the right and the ground sloped away, so down I went. No damage to me, but there was a tiny scratch on my tank and one on the brake lever. I was crying and swearing at the same time.

Sometime in 1981, I really learned to ride, and so did Robert. We took an MSF class. I'd like to tell you what we learned, but it's far too much to put here. We realized a lot of what we were doing was wrong, and there was a lot we just plain didn't know. What we learned that weekend saved my life on the way home that night. A car pulled out of a crossover which is in front of a beer joint. Without what I'd learned, I would have hit him. As it was, I simply made a safe stop and let him go on his way.

Later that year, we happened to meet one of our instructors, who invited us to be helpers at the classes. We did, and in 1982, we became fully certified MSF instructors. Every time we taught a class, our skills improved, too.

Then, about 15 years ago, the class was completely changed from a task-oriented one to a technique-based one. Everything students learned translated directly to any bike they rode.

Now we had a lot of the tools that had been missing. How to stop quickly on a curve, how to avoid going off a curve, how to set up for curves, how to corner correctly, how to turn from a stop, and most of all, the amazing technique of visual control. Visual control wows even experienced riders.

The motorcycle goes where you look. Robert and I have won awards for our teaching, but the real reason we teach is because we're making safe riders and saving lives, besides making riding buddies.

I still feel the magic of seeing someone who's never even sat on a motorcycle go from tiptoeing up to the bike as if it's going to bite to mounting the bike with confidence and knowing they are in control and able to do a lot more than just start the engine, operate the clutch and gear shift, and apply the brakes. They know how to avoid obstacles, how to anticipate hazards, how to stop quickly, turn sharply, and avoid the problems most shown to cause accidents. They are riders, and good ones.

I had one student, 16, who came into the class saying her 250 cc scooter was way too much for her to ride. When the class was over, she dragged her parents over to my bike, mounted it, and brought it off its sidestand (I had the key in my pocket!) and told her parents she didn't want that scooter, she wanted a real bike like mine. The joy was I know she could handle it.

The best way to ride? Take an MSF rider course. Studies have shown that 92% of accident involved riders are either self taught or taught by friends.. Your friends are a garden of misinformation. Your instructors are a wealth of real knowledge. Which do you want to learn from?

Copyright © 2002 by Jackie Vaughan.

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