Australian Motorcycle News - June 21, 2018

Smac, in yer face

SAM MACLACHLAN

Frosty the slow man

I DO IT EVERY year – throttle, buzz rear tyre, act surprised,
then swear. This happens in a similar period annually and I
wonder why I need the reminder. Even on bikes with traction
control – this time the excellent KTM 790 Duke (full test on
page 42) – the transition from warm tarmac and tacky rubber
into skaty bitumen and recalcitrant tyres catches me out. It
seems I can never acknowledge the arrival of winter until I
have accidentally spun a rear tyre doing something mundane.
This time it was leaving my own driveway, something I
did the day before in similar fashion, but with different
results. This is the thing with motorcycling – doing it
all the same doesn’t guarantee it will go the same
way. Kinda what makes it exciting, but also why
you need the head turned to full intensity
every time you pull on a helmet.
I’ve always said the crashes you can
explain are easy to get over, mentally. The
ones you have no idea what happened,
well, they take much longer. If you’re
sitting next to your upside-down bike,
wondering why your wrist hurts and how
on earth it all went wrong, it takes a special
kind of person to just get back on when the
bike’s fixed and the wrist healed and carry on
riding like nothing happened. A more special
person than me.
If I can eventually explain to a thoroughly bored
mate exactly where I stuffed up, it not only makes me feel
better, but also more able to avoid the same thing next time.
When I have no idea what happened, like poor old Andrea
Dovizioso at Le Mans, it takes a chunk of time to build up
the mild invincibility factor all us motorcyclists possess (we
wouldn’t ride if we didn’t).
If we didn’t feel some level of invincibility, we likely wouldn’t
go near a motorcycle, horse, pushbike, aeroplane or even a car.
If we all realised exactly how soft, squashable and easy-to-die
we are, we wouldn’t leave the bloody house, let alone jump
onto an engine suspended between two wheels and go on to
explore its outer limits.
At least w ith my annual w inter tyre traction issue, I know

exactly why it happens, and it’s a good reminder to go easy on

the loud-tube for the first few kilometres, now that the bitumen

is closer to frosty than baking. It’s a shame I need the reminder,

but that’s human nature.

There’s research into mandatory bicycle helmet laws to

suggest that enforcing people to wear a helmet can simply

encourage them to take more risks because, you know, they are

wearing a helmet and are therefore ‘safe’.

There are people who will argue the same for motorcycle

helmets and they definitely have a point – not a good

enough one for me to saddle up on anything on

two wheels without one – however it is tied into

the risk we accept.

When we have crashes we can explain, we

feel okay pushing it to the same limit again.

It’s impossible to avoid mentioning Repsol

Honda’s Marc Marquez in this vein, the

bloke appears to take it to the limit in

practice, before pulling it back just enough

for the race (Mugello notwithstanding).

On the road, though, you don’t have the

luxury of a graceful slide into a gravel trap.

There’s often much gnarlier scenery waiting

for you there.

Often riders need to tip a bike over before

really understanding what all the fuss is about

with learning how to ride the thing properly. I’ve

always prided myself on being able to see the future, that

I know if I ride a certain way I’ll end up with gravel rash, so I

tone that down a bit before it actually happens. Yet the winter

reminder I get every year is proof that we only really learn from

our mistakes. Some times.

So, this time next year, I have promised myself I will notice

the temperature has dropped and the rubber had hardened, the

tyre-warming properties of the sun have diminished and that

the bitumen is less willing to offer traction. I’ll not only notice,

I’ll actually make the throttle adjustments required to not need

to give myself the same buzz fright.

Another year, another promise. And hopefully, next winter,

another result!

You

need to turn

the head to full

intensity every

time you pull on

a helmet