The Ministry of Silly Falls

Feb. 9th, 2004 | 07:46 pm

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Monty Python had a Ministry of Silly Walks in their arsenal of hilarity. I think motorcyclists should have a Ministry of Silly Falls. I discovered in my first year of riding that falling over on your bike does not engender humiliation even if done under the dumbest possible circumstances. Perhaps it is our own memories of falling down with a 500 pound machine on top of us and getting back up again in one piece that makes us all identify and commiserate with the recently dumped.

I took my motorcycle safety class last year and passed it to my surprise and terror. Part of the deal involved in getting my own bike. One of the reasons introduced in the rules of the class for getting booted off the playing field instantly was dropping a bike, so the entire class was hypersensitive and focused on staying upright, a prescription that stuck with me as I began my riding career.

Shortly after I finished the class the bike of my dreams, a Blue Bonneville Triumph America '03 came to live at my house. I managed to get home from the dealership on my first solo ride in one terrified piece but the first time out of the garage we tangled up and fell down in a pile together in the driveway while standing still--within five minutes. I remember muscling that TR out of the garage for my first real ride, I started to think I must have learned to ride on a toy bike-- and I missed it a lot. I longed for that little bitty 250cc Kawasaki when wrestling with the Bonnie. Weighing in at 790cc and almost 500 pounds, she was definitely Real and Real Heavy and Real Awkward. The retro look of the TR that attracted me in the first place was the root of many of my problems to come. The effect of the rake on the stretched out front end that gives the bike it's distinctive look also gives it a floppy front end that wants to throw itself on the ground like a two year old in a tantrum if you don't watch it carefully. As far as I knew back then a rake was something you used on the lawn or a bad guy out of a romance novel set in merry old England. I learned pretty quickly that this bike's front end translated into her having Parking Lot Issues.

I wasn't ready for the sheer dead weight of the Triumph when I rolled it out either. Shaking like a leaf from the adrenaline and the effort of keeping her upright I managed to hoik the kickstand down and just stood there and panted for awhile, while my heart slowed down to something approaching normal. I carefully went over all the steps I learned in class, got the engine check complete and climbed aboard elated and terrified at the same time to start her up.

Neutral, engine started, kick stand up, then a nice slow motion fall over to the left, still astride the bike. My leg was pinned underneath and my ankle was bent sideways, lovely, I couldn't even reach the key from that position. Needless to say, I was cursing very loudly as my terrified white faced husband ran over and heaved the bike off of me thinking he'd made a big mistake letting me have a bike. The only damage was a bruised shin and a bruised ego. I wanted to ride and I didn't want him to think I needed training wheels, so like falling off a horse, I got right back up on the bike and staggered down the driveway in one piece. That afternoon, I contracted a permanent case of Riding Fever and I was willing to do whatever it took to ride.

About two weeks later, still green as grass and practicing my new skills every chance I got, I was leaving a parking lot at my son's baseball game. Stopped carefully, both feet on the ground and wanting to go left, I looked to see if traffic was clear to the left. Unfortunately, I seem to have leaned the bike a bit too far to the right and suddenly, I was on my way down again, under the bike. I was slowly discovering the laws of balance and how to be ready when physics and the bike's dynamics kicked in; unfortunately I seemed to just learn by doing which was hard on my shins and the nerves of everyone around me.

The baseball dads who ran over and heaved the bike upright were more shaken than I was-- except for the riders in the group. The two bikers immediately dusted me off and shared their Silly Falls stories. They waved as I rode off and assured me it happens to everyone sooner or later. This began my months of feeling seriously stupid and trying really hard to figure out what I had done so I wouldn't do it again.

My Silly Falls shook up my nerve, courage and trust in the bike and myself even though I was not hurt either time. I found and read more books about riding and turning and trails and physics and how a bike works. Experiencing several light bulb moments in my reading, I put the information to use as I rode hundreds of miles and practiced stops, starts, turns and SIPDE in preparation for my first major adventure, a two week ride to Sturgis that was going to make me or break me as a rider.

The second day out on the big trip across half of the United States, I was riding well and paying close attention to my low speed maneuvers. I was feeling pretty good as I pulled flawlessly into a crowded grocery store parking lot in Southern Oregon. I executed a tight turn at low speed and came to a complete neat stop. I was so proud of myself; I had finally figured it out. I leaned over turned off the key, and got off the bike. On the way down I realized I had forgotten one thing: the kickstand. That was my Really Silly Fall and made me a card carrying member of the Silly Fall Hall of Fame.

Each ride has gotten better as I've learned how my bike works and responds. Book learning is great and gives you an explanation for the bikes behavior that you can you take and put to use, but only riding, riding, and more riding can propel you from dangerous novice to semi-trained intermediate rider.

I'd like to be able help someone else get a fallen bike up if it ever happens in my vicinity, I'd like to be able to say, "No worries", dust them off and tell them about my Silly Falls. I'm also going to invest in some nice highway bars so I can rescue myself if the need ever arises--although I really hope it won't. I've seen articles in bike magazines about a woman who teaches other women to pick up their bikes. I want to learn to do that, find a class and learn to get my bike back up and yours too, if they decide to participate in a Silly Fall. Now that's my idea of women's liberation.