BOATS AND BIKES

October 6^th, 2004

Let me start by letting everybody know this article isn't about pulling a bass boat behind your bike. Let me also reassure my Navy readers that as an old ship driver / rider, I do realize that only submarines are called boats, but ship doesn't start with a "B". I just thought "Boats and Bikes" sounded better than "Ships and Motorcycles". Having gotten out the apologies, I'll get started.

After spending a few thousand miles at the helm of my Sabre, I have come to realized that there are a lot of similarities between "boats and bikes." OK, I hear you. You're wondering what I've been smoking this time. What in the world has a 20,000 ton vessel has in common with my 570 pound bike? Well, a lot.

The easiest comparison is that it is always easier to use terms like port and starboard instead of left and right. The right side of the bike is different if you're looking at it from the front or if you're looking at it from the back. However, the starboard side is always the starboard side. I'll admit this is really only useful when directing someone else around your bike. For example, it could be used to let my daughter, Chantal, know that she missed a spot on the starboard side of the gas tank while I'm watching her wash my bike (Chantal - this is a hint). Just think how much time I save by not having to say, "Your other right."

The second easiest comparison is PPE (personal protective equipment). While the types of equipment are different, the purpose behind them is the same - to save my tender, sensitive butt from hostile environmental factors (like unexpected encounters with the road). A riding buddy of mine, Mike, just got a not so gentle reminder of the importance of PPE (what he was wearing and what he wishes he had been wearing). In fact, he's thinking about having his engine guard displayed in his office as a demonstration of how valuable that little piece of metal can be in saving engine and body parts.

Of course, the comparison that probably came to the minds of our more mechanical riders is the importance of PMS (preventive maintenance system). All of us know how important it is to check our bikes prior to rides to ensure that oil levels, shifters, brakes and tire treads are in good shape. We know that it is these things that will save us in an emergency. No one is thinking about how much chrome, what type of graphics, or how much horsepower they have as they experience the slow motion thrill of riding their bike to the ground. The good news is that none of us would dream of "gun decking" our PMS since we would just be lying to ourselves. The problem is that some of us just don't do it before every ride. You know the excuse, "I'll check all of that stuff when I clean the bike this weekend." Unfortunately, I have personal proof that accidents don't tend to happen just after I've washed my bike.

One of the best "driving" skills I learned from my Navy experience was the importance of understanding "relative motion." This little concept is invaluable in assessing the ever changing dynamics in our riding environment. For example, two riders running into each other at 30 mph is equal to a rider running into a brick wall at 60 mph (ouch, that hurts). Also, do not let the fact that you are slowly overtaking the vehicle next to you convince you that your actual speed isn't important. The fact that you are traveling at 65 mph and the other vehicle is traveling at 60 mph will make your relative speed appear to be 5 mph (we all know you can't get hurt at 5 mph).

The best concept I learned related to relative motion is CBDR (consistent bearing, decreasing range). Simply put, if you and another rider (on the road to your right) are approaching an intersection, and the degree of angle between you and him remains the same, at some point in the near future both of you are going to be trying to occupy the same physical spot at the same time (again, ouch that hurts). Of course, you can wait until you are in extremis (defined as being in a situation that requires both vessels / bikes to maneuver in order to avoid a collision). Unless you are 100% positive that the other vehicle (bike or cage) will do exactly the right thing, you may want to rethink this approach. Think about two bikers in a CBDR situation who think the other biker is going to "chicken out." Both of these macho riders wait until they get into extremis before they decide to hit the brakes at the same time. The problem is that neither one maneuvered their bikes. They continue to be in a CBDR situation because their bikes slide into one another because they both applied the same amount of brake. While I may not be sure about my riding ability, I'm positive I don't have 100% trust in other folks.

The cardinal rule of navigation is the "Law of Gross Tonnage". While the rules of the road are fairly standard and easy to understand, all Officers of the Deck have a healthy appreciation for larger ships. You may have all the laws and witnesses on your side, but a collision with a larger vessel / vehicle is usually going to be worst for the smaller vessel. This shouldn't be news to bikers. A Cage that runs a stop light, pulls in front of you, or switches lanes on you is wrong. The problem for the biker, who tries to go one-on-one with a Cage, is that he may find that it is the biker who ends up "DEAD WRONG."

The truth of the matter is that none of the comparisons above were the first one that came into my wind burned head. Crossing one of the several dozen bridges we have in the Tidewater area on my Sabre, I had a strange feeling of déjà vu. As I felt the winds kick up over the open water, saw the white caps tumbling across the surface, saw the naked horizon free of all obstructions of sight except for those massive ships, I flashed back to standing on the bridge wing of a ship and the experience of "turning into the wind." The feeling of independence, of being part of Mother Nature's grand picture, of recognizing we all have a ticket to ride on this spinning ball called Earth, flooded my memory banks.

Watching my feet pass 6 inches above the road at 60 mph may not be the same as watching dolphins dancing in the bow wave, but the hidden secret of Bikers and Sailors is that we miss traveling along those black ribbons of asphalt and blue water highways. I'm not nostalgic for any more deployments, but being on my bike is the closest experience I have found that brings my senses alive by putting me in "the moment" and at the same time reminds me that there is nothing wrong with being a small spec in the grand dust bowl of life. Here's hoping that you'll soon be "taking in all lines," and hearing that voice in your head shouting "Underway, Shift Colors."

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