The first is she is kick start. Now, this shouldn't be a shock as she's older than I am, but its different than the electric start I'm used to. Meaning, I actually have to work. For those that have never had the honor of trying to kick start a bike, its all technique, and before you have it down, its all frustration. You sit there and crank, crank, crank, trying to figure out where top dead center is, where the start of the combustion cycle is, and how much gas to feed in.

The other issue is, well... I'm only comfortable on a nice smooth road, perfect riding conditions and not much traffic around. Which leads to at least a small bit of nervousness when you remove any of the above conditions and replace it with something a little worse. Say, rain.... or a poorly paved road... or a dirt track that's NOT a road. When I got my first bike, I had to force myself to get on it... I'd enjoy it when riding, but before hand the idea of cars around me, or learning to turn faster made me not want to ride. So to buy a dirt bike was a promise to myself to suck it up, and try more of riding that scares me.

Naturally with a bike that I have problems starting and not liking to ride on anything worse than, oh, Pennsylvania interstate roads, I decided to go hit up a local rock (too big to call them gravel) road to get some practice. That's the sane thing to do, right?

Rode down the "road" once, and found a nice paved road on the other side. Figured I might just take that road home, my practice complete. Then I realized that on the 65th anniversary of D-Day, heralding our entry into World War II, I was going to take the cheap and easy way out. After that I had a better idea, I'd ride back up the rock road, STOP (forcing myself to practice breaking on a poor surface), then turn the bike off to take pictures.

With that in mind, I rode back up the road, skirted some water, came to a stop, and flicked the kill switch. I have to say it felt good to know I wasn't going the easy way, and the silence was quite nice. I took 10 minutes to walk around, take some pictures, and enjoy the gorgeous afternoon. Finally I got back on, took a few stabs at starting the bike, got her going, and rolled on home.

Practice makes perfect, and I intend to practice as much as it takes to feel comfortable on the dirt and comfortable starting the bike, even if I'll all alone in the middle of no where.

I gave him a spare helmet, a nice leather jacket, my gauntlets (about the only non-expendable gear) and we took Tina out to a local parking lot that is used for the MSF course, so it had all the fun lines showing turns, braking lines, everything.

He did quite well, first we got used to the feel of the brakes by rolling forward and applying them. Then I had him feel the friction zone for the clutch by letting it out just until the wheel rolls forward the slightest bit. Then we did 'power walking': Letting the clutch out enough to roll forwards, giving it a tad of gas, and walking along with the bike. After that he wanted to pick his feet up so he did two 1st gear passes of the lot, staying upright. Finally we wanted to see 2nd gear, so I gave him the longest shot across the lot, and he managed to get up into it twice before we called it a day! Quite successful, with only two stalls and no drops.

But what struck me most was the memories it brought back. I did my course in the middle of summer (about 10 months ago) so it was a little hotter, but the smell was the same. There's something to the smell that a small 'thumper' engine gives off that just takes me back. The nervousness of dropping the bike, the joy that first time you pick your feet up onto the pegs, the realization that counter-steering actually works... all of it. It was nice being on the other side of the bike this time, and giving some one else that experience, although I have to say the nervousness of the bike going down is still there.

It was an afternoon well spent. I'd highly recommend everyone spend an afternoon like that learning how to ride. Even if you don't end up a rider, you may never touch a bike again. But you'll feel the wind in your face, and the bike responding to your input and you'll realize why people say "Live to Ride, Ride to Live".

Currently I have two bikes in my stables (sadly, simply a parking space out front with the bikes crammed into it).

1985 Yamaha XT 350 - "Tina"
This is a FUN little bike that I just got yesterday. It's 24 years young, and still running in near tip-top shape. It looks no worse than my 14 year old bike did, so she's got many years left in her.

This is a dual-sport with semi-knobby tires that I intend to use for some street putt-putting around for groceries and the like locally, then learning how to ride on dirt and off-road as well. In addition, I have a few friends who want to learn how to ride, and I'll show them a thing or two on here as I don't think it can be that hurt from one fall.

2001 Suzuki SV650 - "Qarina"
This is my main bike, and my main love right now. She's an '01 SV that was chopped up a bit to be a nice streetfighter. The front end was swapped out for an '07 GSXR 600 front, the handle bars were replaced with clip-ons, some good shocks are in there, and the pipe's an old one that's not made anymore that sounds beastly. Then everything was painted black. Gorgeous.

I use this bike for everything... from runs to the store to runs 5 states west. She's teaching me confidence in my tires, and how to go fast in turns, not just straights. I average about 200 miles a week on her, and its no where near enough.