From: noemi@maui.cs.ucla.edu (Noemi Berry)
Subject: The European Adventure, Epilogue
Organization: UCLA, Computer Science Department
Date: Sun, 22 Nov 92 16:45:21 GMT

This is the final installment in the tale of my 9-day
motorcycle adventure in Europe during the summer of '92.
Many thanks to the many, many people who have sent me
mail about this story.  I wish I could answer every
one; I try, but I am truly ovewhelmed by the response.
And to the people who tell me they have considered such
a trip, I cannot urge you strongly enough to FIND a way!

Though the European part of this trip was over, the epilogue
contains (of course) motorcycle-related content.

noemi
*--------------------------------------------------------*

10/21/92
The European Adventure
Epilogue

New York, NY

Once back in Paris after my motorcycle trip, I stayed in Europe for
another week, contemplating another motorcycle rental in England.  But
I decided the fast-disappearing money was better spent on my own future
motorcycle (NM) back Stateside.  My plane ticket on Pakistani Airlines
(don't laugh: great food and a prayer before takeoff!) was open-ended,
so I made a reservation for the soonest flight back to New York,
which was Saturday, September 12.

New York City is a great way to let the Real World sink back in.

I spent a week on the East Coast, catching up on all my visiting.  One
of my visits was to see my buddy Andrew, who is largely responsible for
getting me into riding.  During our first year of grad school at UCLA,
I was a frequent passenger on his '82 Yamaha Seca 550.  Andrew was there
when I got my Kawi, had my first gas fill-up, my first highway, my first
real DoD ride.  He has since graduated from UCLA, moved back to New Jersey,
taken up his job at Bell Labs, and married longtime girlfriend Suzanne.

When I visited Andrew & Suzanne, Andrew's bride kindly loaned me my old
buddy and his Seca for an old-times-sake two-up ride.  So much had
happened since I was last on the back of that Seca!  Now I actually
had more street miles than my driver, and had more gear.  However,
for the light riding we were doing that day, I forewent the leather
pants and wore my no-longer-new boots and jacket over my favorite jeans.

After half an hour of enjoyable cruising, we stopped in a parking lot
right next to the Delaware Water Gap to check the map and choose a route.
It was a moment of triumph for me: Andrew let me test-ride the Seca, the
bike that started it all!  I once thought the Seca would be WAAY too big
for me, but now when I got on it, I had slightly more foot on the ground
than on the FT.  My 9 days with a taller bike really changed my perspective
on motorcycles I can manage, and it really hit home when I took off on
the Seca.  I have moved up in the world!

[Parental editing ON]

After one lap in the parking lot, I tested the power of the inline
four and found myself approaching the end of the parking lot faster
than I wanted to be.  I braked and went through a quick huh?-oh-shit
moment when the bike didn't slow down as I expected.  Then something felt
very, very wrong; the bike was moving in a weird direction.  Next thing
I knew, it was flip-flopping around from side to side.  I lost control
and before you could say low-side, I was on the ground and the bike was
sliding away from me fast.  It hopped the curb at the end of the parking
lot and stopped right away in the soft grass.  Andrew watched the
whole thing, helpless.

We established that I was OK, and went to pick up the bike.  The
tailpipe was split, the fairing around the headlight was broken,
all the windscreen's plastic bolts had popped off except one, an
engine guard was pretzeled and the handlebars were slightly twisted.
No turn signals or mirrors broken, but the damage that was done will
be harder to fix than those replaceable items.  We did a quick fix
on the windscreen by putting the one good bolt right in the center
front hole, and were able to ride the bike home.

So what happened?  I would never have known if Andrew had not seen it.
As best as I can piece it together from what I felt and what Andrew
saw, this is the story.  To start, Andrew says I was probably going
faster than I knew.  My side of that is that I *knew* I was going
fast -- no excuses there.  Stupid thing #1.

Stupid thing #2 was testing the throttle before testing the brakes
on an unfamiliar bike!  When I first braked, the bike didn't slow
down as I thought it should.  I must have nailed the brakes during
the huh?-oh-shit moment: Andrew saw rear wheel lock and skid, smoke
and all, and swing around to the right.  Then I must have released
the rear brake, because the bike snapped up and almost high-sided me
off.  Instead of the high-side, it went into the flip-flopping weaving
and low-sided.

The skid patterns tell the story too: a straight skid (locked the rear)
then nothing (snap back), an on-off pattern (serious weaving), and then
a long, red line where the bike slid on the fairing all the way to the
curb.  We estimate I was going around 30 when I hit.  I didn't slide much
at all; the bike did most of that.  My gear had markings all over the
left side, from boot to helmet to glove, and I took a good hit on my left
shoulder.  It could have been a *lot* worse.

YES I have taken MSF:RSS!  And I know that when the rear wheel is locked,
keep it locked!  It's one thing to mark that off on a multiple-choice
test, but entirely another when it actually happens.  I had no idea I'd
locked the rear!  I'd never felt it at that speed, nor when it was
swinging around.  I also didn't know that I'd released the rear brake. 
When I first got on the bike, I thought the rear brake felt so mushy
that I couldn't tell where braking started.  From now on, a brake with
little feel will raise a warning flag!

I spent much of the day crying on Andrew's shoulder about my deep
stupidity.  So much for my triumphant moment after my adventures in
the Alps in which I have arrived as a rider!  Instead, I crash my
mentor's bike not two minutes after I get on it, in a straight line
and with no obstacles or traffic.  Repeat after me: "gross operator
error."  Andrew, having enough heart for 100 Mother Theresas, never
yelled at me or made me feel worse for crashing his bike.  Suzanne
was incredibly kind as well.

I took the MSF:ERC a week later, back in Northern CA, during which I paid
special attention to the braking exercises.  I talked to Mojo, the DoDish
instructor about my crash, analyzing it in detail.  Now I know that you
also keep the rear wheel locked when it's *not* going in a straight line
behind the front wheel!  Time to get my paws on a dirt bike.

Also, I learned a very valuable lesson: unfamiliar bikes are unfamiliar
in more ways than you think!  Now I am the model of caution on bikes
I've never ridden.  Be extremely conservative on an unknown motorcycle!
Test the brakes before the throttle!

And I tore up the knee of my only decent pair of jeans left.
Stupid thing #52 was leaving my new leather pants at home.

[Parental editing OFF]

The Seca felt great for the few meters I rode it, and its height
did not intimidate me at all.  I'm ready for a bigger bike, that's
for certain.

As I write, I am back in the Bay Area and in the ugly process
of job-hunting and re-joining the Real World.  Sometimes as
I sit in an interview, silk-clad and smiling, I wonder how
my potential employer will react when I show up to work on
a motorcycle.  Or when I say my next vacation will be spent
in leathers, on the way to Alaska (or some such far-away place).
As soon as I have an offer signed, I'll finally be looking
for my long-awaited companion NM.

August, 1991, I was struggling through the MSF class.   A mere year
later, I was a fully-leathered motorcyclist riding in the Alps.  Last
year I *never* would have imagined myself capable of it.  The growth
and character-building that motorcycle riding cultivates is amazing.

Times like these help me deal with my worst fears: paralysis, and the
difficulties in getting older.  If somehow I was incapacitated today,
these experiences make me know that I have experienced living.  When
I muse at the possibility of an early death, or permanent incapacitation,
I think to myself, "I will have had my time in the Alps," and other
wonderful experiences.  And then it seems like there would be less
regrets for things never done.  The more I do these things, the less
afraid I am of someday wondering what could have been, or regretting
that I can no longer do them.  I will always have these memories, and
right now, they help me be less afraid of the possibility of future
disaster.  And I don't mind getting older knowing that I had my time.
I will die happy!

My time in the Alps was like a fantasy: it was one of the best
things I've ever done in my life, and one of the most different
(for me).  I saw beauty in a way I'd never seen it before.  It
also makes you appreciate the beauty you have at home, that you've
gotten so used to you don't see it anymore.  I'd like to experience
the whole world by motorcycle!  There's the keyword: experience.
In a car, train or bus, you see it, but on a motorcycle, you
*experience* it.  You live it.

If you're considering a big trip, don't wait: do it!  You'll recover
the time and money later, but you'll have one of the best experiences
in your life.

End of The European Adventure.

Author's note:  Many, many thanks to Daemonthenese (who is not me) for
taking the time to write the hilarious forewards, and for sharing his
unique wit.

noemi
*---------------------------------------------------------------------*
noemi@cs.ucla.edu (for now)     				KotSBL
DoD #443  						'82 KZ 305 CSR
							(R.I.P)
	Next Motorcycle (NM) countdown: one R65LS to go!
*---------------------------------------------------------------------*
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