I purchased my first bike in 7 years (as well as my first new bike) recently. Several things kept me from riding before this… my previous bike, an ’82 Yamaha Seca 650, had died a second time (the 650 mill had over 100k miles on it, and the salvaged ’83 750 engine I swapped it with had who knows how many); I really couldn’t afford another bike; most of the people I’d been riding with either drifted off or sold their bikes; and I’d never really gotten over my apprehension after a wreck at Suches a few years before. So, I fell out of the motorcycling world, ignoring the advances and the bikes that passed me every day.

Then the bug hit my co-workers over the summer. Everyone began making plans to buy bikes; once they found out I used to ride, they began pestering me to buy one and ride with them. One by one, they took the MSF course and bought their bikes; occassionally, I’d ride with them on a borrowed bike. My roommate even bought two bikes in the space of 2 months, selling the first (GS500F) to his girlfriend. But I still resisted- while I was making enough now to afford a new one, I’m still getting over credit problems from five years ago. Plus, I was still replaying the wreck in my head. The wreck was a result of my overconfidence in my riding abilities, and forgetting everything I’d been taught about riding. We were riding in Suches; I was on the GPz305 and was getting tired of being left by the larger bikes. I was riding a section of Ga. 60 that I hadn’t been on before, and entered a right-hand curve faster than I should have. Instead of leaning further, and low-siding if it got to that point, I froze up and rode off the outside of the curve. The bike stopped in the ditch and I went over the handlebars, landing on the very top of my kevlar and fiberglass Bieffe helmet. End result: A three inch crack in the top of my helmet, a gouge in the faceshield (never figured out what from), a dent in the gas tank from my knee, and a concussion. I got off light. The bike was ridable and I rode it back home, but I was bit gun-shy after that. (I’ve since determined that my last words will probably be “Ooohhhh SHIIIIIT!”, as that’s been what I’ve said in every wreck I’ve ever had, car or bike.) Even on the rides I took after my roommate got a bike, I was still nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

What began to cure me was giving tips to my roommate, who’d never ridden before. We talked about what he learned in his MSF course, and I offered my own riding experiences. We dissected my wreck, what happened and why, and what I should have done. He’d come back from rides and talk about something new he experienced, and it reminded me of similar situations I’d faced. And gradually, I realized I didn’t really have any excuse for not riding. I finally started shopping for real. True sport-tourers- the FJ1300, ST1100, etc.- were out of my price range, but the Bandit seemed to fit the bill. I rode mine home a week ago from Action Motorsports in Loganville. My roomie and I took a couple of short rides; I took a solo ride in the rain (digging out my rainsuit from the back of the closet).

Friday, the roommate wanted to go for a longer ride- he wanted to go to Suches. Here it comes- would riding that curve again be a problem? Yes, I had 10 years of riding under my belt; but a big gap since the last time I’d ridden. For all intents and purposes, I’m a new rider again. I agreed to go, and cautioned him to ride his own ride- don’t worry about if I or he is falling behind; ride the pace he’s comfortable with. The advice was mainly for myself.

It wasn’t too cold; mid-50s or so. I warmed up gradually up Ga. 60, remembering the fun I had on this stretch of road years ago, and built my confidence up. I didn’t let it get built up too far- and a wreck on Ga. 180 helped; a younger rider on a Gixxer low sided his bike off the side of the mountain. He was OK, and we helped him get the bike up the hill again, but it reminded both of us what our limits are.

And I found that moment again- where I went into a curve faster than I thought I should. This time I told myself “Lean it this time, idiot!” I did, and Bandit held the curve as nice as you’d want. After a few more fast back-and-forth curves, I remembered why I started riding in the first place.

Despite the amount of time I’ve spent riding- a drop in the bucket compared to a lot of folks- I’ve still got a lot to learn. One of them, one I think I’ve realized, is that obsessing over a long-ago accident isn’t productive. Learn from it and move on. I think I’ve calmed down enough from when I first started riding, at 19, to realize that I’m not invulnerable, and when I start to think that I can ride any curve is when I’m the most dangerous to myself.

And most importantly, riding is a damn lot of fun.