You Never Forget Your First Time.

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hppants

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They say you never forget your first time.

That phrase can be applied to many activities, some G-rated, some R-rated, and some even worse. But one thing we can all agree on is that we never forget our first REAL ride. To be clear – I’m not referring to our first motorcycle riding experience. Your buddy letting you take his bike down the road and back doesn’t count. Just after you buy your first bike and putt putt it around the parking lot or subdivision – that doesn’t count either in my book.

No – your first REAL ride is the one that allows you to capture the whole riding experience. Where you can engage all of your senses. You can hear and feel the engine between your legs. You can taste the excitement of controlling the bike, and even a little terror of a close call or a safety concern. When you ride through that, it exhilarates your sense of accomplishment, and you realize that you are living a touch on the edge and you love it. You can smell the world that formally existed outside of the air conditioned cage you grew up in. And finally, you can see the unlimited ceiling above and around you, and it gives you a whole new appreciation for scale and how small you are in the real grand scheme of things.

About 6 weeks ago, my 19 year old nephew Jacob started asking me questions about motorcycles and it quickly became apparent that he was bitten by the bug. We talked about safety and learning to ride the right way. He patiently waited for the right 1st bike to come along and about 3 weeks ago, he picked up a nice Honda Nighthawk 250. We shopped together and bought some good riding gear for him, and spent a wrenching day in my shop going over the care and feeding of the 2-wheeled horse. Jacob took the MSF course and got all of his paperwork straight for his new ride. He practiced in my neighborhood a few times to increase his comfort level.

And yesterday, he was nice enough to allow me to accompany him on his first REAL ride.

I hope you enjoy the pics.

Right now, coastal Louisiana is hotter than a whore house on Nickel Night. Any self-respecting ride should be started early in the morning. I met Jacob at his house at 6:30 am. His step dad looks like he is sending Jacob off to fight a war.

Jacob1_zps5338ea6f.jpg


We went over a few pre-ride safety items, geared up, and I lead him out for parts unknown. Jacob lives on the outskirts of town, so it was nice to be able to avoid the city and get right to the rural side of riding. I picked a long straight country road to start so that he could settle in and concentrate on the mechanics of his ride.

Looks like he’s doing just fine back there.

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Staggered formation looks good – staying out of the grey stripe just like I told him.

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About 30 miles into the ride I found a nice set of desolate and wide open curves that I wanted Jacob to practice on. Uh…. looks like he needs a little work on his U-turns as well.

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No harm, no foul – we pushed the bike back on the road and commenced to practicing.

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Nice looking lean – he’s kind of target fixed on me, but we worked on that too.

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We talked about the “outside/inside/outside” way to negociate curves, and 3 or 4 rounds in, he’s doing tons better.

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We’ll use these pictures as teaching aids.

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We continued to the town of Eunice and stopped for gas. Then we rode 100 yards up the road to a Tire/Bike shop that I frequent. I suppose a ride to a bike shop is a sort of rite of passage as well.

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Not much happening this early in the morning, so shortly thereafter, we geared up and continued the adventure. Now heading generally East, we ride through fields of soybeans, cut rice, sugar cane, and cattle. I’m picking well known-to-me curvy roads with little or no traffic and good pavement.

Jacob10_zps17f6f288.jpg


At one point, we found Hwy 190, which is a 4-lane divided 65mph highway. I wanted to give Jacob a chance to stretch the legs on his beast. That little 250 runs quite well at speed and will happily roll down the highway, while sipping gas and providing 65 mpg mileage.

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You can almost see the grin behind the helmet.

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We continued on our loop back to his house, and arrive safely about 10:15 am. Our ride was approximately 125 miles, 95% of it on rural less traveled highways.

A young man of few words, Jacob was noticeably very excited upon our return.

(Pants) “Well, how’d you like it?

(Jacob) “It was amazing”

(Pants) “Have you ever seen any of those roads before?”

(Jacob) “Other than the one right by our house, I’ve never been to any of that”

(Pants) “Plenty of adventure right in your own backyard.”

(Jacob) “I can’t wait to do it again.”

(Pants, thinking on the way home) - “Me too.”

 
Looks like an enjoyable day and great coaching opportunity Pants! Hopefully many safe years ahead for Jacob.

 
Good on you for taking him under your wing and getting him started the right way.

You have you have opened up a whole new world for that young man and cultivated another member of the" miles of smiles club."

 
Outstanding first 'ride'. Thanks for sharing, I wish I had a mentor to teach me some stuff I learned on my own, which was riding an old trail 90 all over gods creation, when I was just wee lad. Earned that bike working as a 'hog' boy for a brick mason when I was 14. Never looked back.

 
I have taught about a dozen people to ride over the the years, and think that every new rider should spend the first 500 miles ( or more) following an experience rider before they start riding by themselves. You/he have at least 375 miles to go. Keep up the good work!

 
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Thanks hp, once again, you've captured something special in just one post on the forum. Enjoyed reading it.

But as soon as I read this, my mind went back to THE DAY.

I posted this several years ago on this forum, but can't find it. I will never forget that day. A friend wanted to borrow my van for the evening, offering to let me use his 1973 Z1 Kawasaki 900. It was my first time on board anything beyond my little Suzuki T500 twin. I had no idea that anything could sound, feel, or GO like that bike. By FJR standards, it was a wimp, but in 1975, it was indeed the king.

Z1-2.jpg


But that night was absolutely magic.

Rolling through the gears, feeling that amazing mid range thrust, listening to that beautiful four cylinder symphony, using a disk brake for the first time, even the joy of an electric starter, all things that I'd never experienced. It was smooth. It was big. It was powerful. It was addicting. It was everything I ever dreamed it would be, and more.

There was no experience like that one. I had goose bumps on my goose bumps. It was truly a first in my life. I remember wishing that the evening would never end. It was a sad moment when I had to hand him back the keys, but I'll never forget it: I felt a little like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.

Gary

darksider #44

 
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Thanks hp, once again, you've captured something special in just one post on the forum. Enjoyed reading it.But as soon as I read this, my mind went back to THE DAY.

I posted this several years ago on this forum, but can't find it. I will never forget that day. A friend wanted to borrow my van for the evening, offering to let me use his 1973 Z1 Kawasaki 900. It was my first time on board anything beyond my little Suzuki T500 twin. I had no idea that anything could sound, feel, or GO like that bike. By FJR standards, it was a wimp, but in 1975, it was indeed the king.

[img=[URL="https://i349.photobucket.com/albums/q363/Nigelsearby/Z1-2.jpg%5D"]https://i349.photobucket.com/albums/q363/Nigelsearby/Z1-2.jpg][/URL]

But that night was absolutely magic.

Rolling through the gears, feeling that amazing mid range thrust, listening to that beautiful four cylinder symphony, using a disk brake for the first time, even the joy of an electric starter, all things that I'd never experienced. It was smooth. It was big. It was powerful. It was addicting. It was everything I ever dreamed it would be, and more.

There was no experience like that one. I had goose bumps on my goose bumps. It was truly a first in my life. I remember wishing that the evening would never end. It was a sad moment when I had to hand him back the keys, but I'll never forget it: I felt a little like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight.

Gary

darksider #44
And then you put a car tire on it!!!

In all seriousness, great original post and a new thread about all these first times would be really cool if not already done.

 
I don't know if Jacob understands how lucky he is to have an uncle like you, but WE understand. You did very well. Cool uncles are hard to find these days.

Outstanding description of The Feeling by the way. No one can ever put into words the multitude of emotions and feelings we get from our riding but you came pretty darn close.

Well done all the way around my friend.

 
Great ride report (it kinda is), in keeping with your usual standard of high-quality RRs.

My first day was exactly the opposite: signed the purchase papers, sat on a bike for the first time ever, a two-stroke Yamaha RD400, and rode it back to Pearl Harbor. Thank God I didn't kill myself.

Your approach is the best, and like LKLD, you should be glad to properly usher new riders into the community.
 
You, sir, are a fantastic uncle... well, to your nephew you are... how do his folks feel about it?? ;)

I remember my first time (on the bike) and I got the Big "O" when everything clicked... the bike, the road, the surroundings, and me... it was on the last 22 miles of Hwy 1 north into Leggett... if you've ever ridden it, you know the stretch I'm talking about... like it was engineered just for riders. Heaven! B)

Wishing you and your nephew many "O" moments! :D

 
Thanks for all the kind words.

My sister is certainly not overwhelmed with joy and pride, but she is treating him respectfully. She's let him keep the bike under cover on the front porch and for now, I'd say things are OK. Jacob and I agreed that telling her about the ditch incident wouldn't be very productive, so for now, we're keeping that between ourselves (and you people, of course).

 
Thanks for the write-up 'pants, I enjoyed it and it brought back some memories of me teaching my (now) 18 yr old son.

PS Send some heat up our way, it's friggen way too kewl for Aug!

 
Awesome! I wish I'd had an uncle or family member like you to lead me when I started. No one in my family ever got bit by this bug we all love so much. Myself, I learned many of my lessons the hard way and I have to say I'm lucky none of them bit any harder than what they did.

When my wife decided she no longer wanted to just be a pillion, I insisted she take the Motorcycle Safety Course first. I did have the pleasure though of helping build on that course by riding with her for quite a few miles before she began solo trips.

I had a great-uncle, now long passed, who rode Indians back in the day and I always loved sitting in his kitchen hearing his stories of rides and journeys taken way long ago. Every time I got a new bike, one of the first rides was always to his house to show him the newest addition.

 
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