Motorcycles

From this:



To this:



In two years. In January 2006 I passed my MSF course, never having ridden a two wheeled vehicle before. Now I am racing and beating a few boys. Like David Byrne asked, "well, how did I get here?"

I was twenty-nine and had just broken off a relationship. Thinking that my non-work life needed a little structure and direction, I created some personal goals for myself. They ranged from the simple (visit grandparents in next three months) to dangerous (get motorcycle license before thirtieth birthday). In March, 2006, I bought my first motorcycle: a silver 2003 Suzuki SV650S. An excellent starter bike, depending upon whom you talk to. It poured rain every single day of March that year, but each day I drove home from work, suited up in wool tights, scarves and leather, and took my SV for ever-widening jaunts around my neighborhood, squealing inside my helmet with excitement.

Soon I took it to the local mountain roads where people continually exclaimed, "wow, you're pretty fast! for a girl..." I started to realize that people were more accustomed to female riders who either didn't ride without their boyfriends or who were slow as molasses, and usually both. I also started to realize I wanted them to leave off the "for a girl" part. A little ego, sure, but I loved my new sport vehemently. I dreamed of it from my desk at work, I studied it in books, I talked with people about it. Somehow, all in one neat, fast, shiny package, motorcycling captured many things I was a good at and many things I loved, but didn't quite realize that I loved. I was soon regaled by my mom with stories of how I wanted to be a speed ice skater as a kid, or how I would go flying off tall ledges and walls, pretending to fly. It is a hobby that does not require conversational skills, and yet can be quite social. It requires coordination, good judgment, watchfulness, bravery, focus, and perseverance, but not Lance Armstrong-like fitness levels or that one be a strong team player. It was perfect and I was in love.

Soon I took it to the track, and then continued going to the track. The process of getting myself there with my trailer and bike, learning a challenging, unique new sport, and receiving praise all empowered me during a time when I needed it. I daydreamed of racing.

2007 saw more track days and a visit to the Freddie Spencer School. While at the school I took a little tumble on one of the school dirt bikes and ended up having to have surgery the next week on an already problematic herniated disc. I was out for four months, but went diligently to physical therapy, continuing to daydream of racing and focusing on making my body strong again.

I returned to the track in the fall of 2007 with a race-prepped Suzuki SV650S, like my very first street bike but, like, on steroids or something. GSXR forks, Penske shock, F3 rear wheel, aftermarket rearsets and levers, and race bodywork. I received my AFM racing license in November at Thunderhill Raceway with a poky little puppy laptime of 2:15. No matter - I was a racer!

I started racing in March, 2008, and I came in dead freaking last in my novice race at Buttonwillow. I've had three total crashes, street or track. Crash #1: November, 2007, the day before my New Racer School. Guy highsides right in front of me, coming out of turn 12 at Thunderhill, and I didn't think I had a path anywhere around him or his bike so did an amazing stoppie and launched myself over the handlebars. Ruined my helmet, bruised or cracked a little bone in my elbow and got a big scrape on my knee from my under-leather garments sticking and scraping.

Crash #2: January, 2008, the day before what was to be my first race at California Speedway in Fontana. I was riding over my head and highsided. Broke another helmet, got a gnarly hematoma on my left knee and was discolored along my left side from bruises. A photo:



Crash #3: April, 2008, in a race at Infineon Raceway. It was the first lap and all the riders were all bunched together. I was half a bike length behind this guy when he got uncomfortably close to the racer in front of him, causing him to "grab a handful" of brakes, sending him to the ground. I was right behind him and zipped right up and over his motorcycle, putting me and my ride on the ground. Nary a bruise from this one, but lost quite a lot of trust in my fellow racers. Got this one on tape too:




I've made some good improvements this year. My best laptime at Thunderhill now is a consistent 2:08, and my best at Infineon a low 1:54. There are still more racers ahead of me than behind me at the checkered flag, but maybe someday soon that will change.