Learners
are heroes
Guido straps on the L-plates and hits the deck...
I've just had
an absolute pig of a lesson, and the worst part is I can't really blame the
ordinary weather, the instructor, the machinery, the unfamiliar territory -
none of them. As much as I want to. It was just a bad co-ordination day when
I probably shouldn't have been trusted with a pair of shoelaces, let alone complex
machinery.
It was so vile I just wanted to stop, give them the money and tell them to leave
me alone.
For some inexplicable reason, all the things I'd developed over the previous
seven hours of tuition fell apart. Wasn't steering properly, couldn't spot the
right point for turning, hitting the power, for anything, and couldn't get the
safety checks (which I'd learned by rote) in the right order.
Roy, my instructor for the day, who's about 70 in the shade and has far more
hours up than I have breakfasts, saw the white knuckles on the controls, was
very forgiving and kept saying to relax. Kerrist, I should know that by now.
How hard can it be? Trust the machine, look for the aiming point on the horizon,
and work on getting your eye in so you can judge where to land.
Ah, sorry. I'm talking about a flying lesson, but all of it applies to motorcycles.
What's got me revved up about this is just how difficult it is to be thrown
out of your comfort zone and put in charge of a new machine in a different culture.
I've been riding bikes daily for the last 27 years (see hoary old pic of my
attempting to tune a Dunstall-equipped Honda CB750) and, while I learn something
from the adventure most days, it's a fairly comfortable experience. The thrill
of sitting astride and starting and riding an engine never goes away. I'd forgotten,
though, how tough getting on this road is.
I'm rapidly rediscovering, thanks to some insane urge to fly, just how difficult
it is for a learner. With a whole eight hours of experience I've been through
the oh-so-sexy thrills of being able to start it and make it go, getting some
sort of handle on riding it around, and have just been through the bloody awful
stage of seeing it all go pineapple-shaped for no apparent reason other than
inexperience and bad judgement.
The weird part was, the week before, I was making huge progress and walked away
- albeit sweaty and relieved - feeling like the king of the kids. It was just
great. I almost had it nailed.
Then it all turned to shite. Apparently this is normal. Roy (a former motorcyclist)
said, "Don't beat yourself up over it. This happens to everyone."
Daughter Ms A (a budding motorcyclist) nearing 17, agreed. She's apparently
sane despite learning to ride, drive and fly all at the same time (enough to
make anyone's head spin) and so I should probably bow to her greater experience
on things learning.
A few things have hit home. For a start, anyone who's learning to ride a bike
or scooter should be cut an awful lot of slack. If my recent experience is anything
to go by, it's just goddamn hard to step out of your comfort zone (car, public
transport or whatever) and master a new machine which is likely to bite you
if you don't get it right.
Secondly, it's potentially a vicious emotional road where one minute you think
you have a grip on the plot and the next it all goes weird. Motorcycle culture
might let you crash before you work that out. Regardless, it's the same lesson.
And last, you have to deal with the people who think what you're doing is just
dumb. Or dangerous, or both. I've copped a mild version of it - "Wouldn't
go with you even if you coated it in honey, and can I have your bike when you
die?"
It's the mark of a certifiable motorcyclist (apart from the mad glint in the
eye) to keep trying despite all the hurdles thrown up in front of them. Which
is the current plan.
To all you learners out there, you have my respect and admiration - I'd forgotten
how difficult, emotional and rewarding it is.
Apparently the next danger period is 100 hours, when you're fully licensed and
get cocky. Gee, that rings a bell...
Guy "Guido" Allen
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