I have owned and ridden three motorcycles. I like motorcycles. They are as close to flying as one can get on land. There are challenges, such as trying to stay upright on two wheels. I know people who have never been down on their bikes. I once fell over right by the front door of the biggest motorcycle accessory shop in Denver. It trapped my leg and some guy had to lift it off me. I bet he is still telling that story.
I have crashed on city streets, on a paved canyon road (sand), in parking lots, and an uncountable number of times in the dirt. Two of my motorcycles were what is now called dual sport; they are able to be used on the street and in the dirt. They aren’t top notch in either role, but some riders do things most people can’t imagine. 80 mph on the highway, and some challenging back country roads and trails. Lots of good dual sport roads in Colorado, Utah, New Mexico, and Wyoming, where I traveled.
One of the best grew up riding on the streets of Mexico City, where you have to be good to survive. I could keep up with him on the highway because we had the same bikes. In the dirt, he could go places with that fairly heavy thing that I didn’t even dream of. He and quite a few others have done 50 mountain passes in Colorado in 50 hours. I am good for about six in a day, and hurt for two days. He also did a lot of single track trails, something I never attempted.
I liked road trips with some gravel or dirt roads thrown in. Forest Service roads were about as gnarly as I wanted. On the asphalt, it was curves in canyons. Fortunately, Colorado’s Front Range has lots of canyons. There was a geological event that bumped the long bench from Conifer to its Estes Park. That bench was once at Denver’s elevation, but got pooched up to where it is now. We call the road the Peak to Peak Highway.
Go up any of the canyons from Deer Creek to the Big Thompson, ride those fast sweeping curves a ways, then down another canyon. My favorite was Golden Gate Canyon, where I tore my posterior cruciate ligament when I hit some sand on the road.
It’s the lean, folks. Go around a curve on two wheels and you lean. Go faster, lean more. Go faster, and crash. I went fairly slow for a motorcyclist. I still got some lean, and was able to look at the geology. A low side crash is when the bike slides out from under you and goes off the road ahead of you.
A high side crash is the bad one. The front wheel starts to slide, then gets traction. You are flipped off and into the air, while the bike bounces along behind until it lands on you. Both are bad, but you really do not want to high side. Some riders get flipped into the guardrail. Ouch.
My knee wrecking crash was a low side. My knee was bent, the tibia-fibula stopped on the pavement while the femur went a little farther. It really hurt. Hurt bad. I picked the bike up and rode on until I couldn’t stand the pain and called for help.
Aside from the crashes, I loved motorcycling. Yes, it is dangerous. Other drivers don’t see you and turn in front of you. You crash all by yourself. There is a famous twisty road in North Carolina where a biker went into the bushes. Just in front of him was another motorcycle with the remains of the rider. He went into the bushes and nobody saw a thing.
I always wore all the protective gear. Those Harley riders who won’t wear a helmet because their balls will protect them are nuts. Mass delusion, those Harley people.
This spring I got the itch again. Yamaha makes a single cylinder bike that looks a lot like the classic British thumpers from the 1950s. It isn’t fast, but sure would be a good canyon bike. Nah. Too old and slow myself. I guess I will stick to four wheeling.