After a week of training I was able to stay up on a bike!! Here are a few clips from my training, plus a write up of the event. I'd like to give a special thanks to Robert Cooper, and his wife Alida, for all their help.
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?Every true motorcyclist remembers the exact moment when they wanted to ride a bike.?
These were the first words Robert Cooper spoke to me as we began discussing the working details of riding motorcycles.
Robert, who runs MotoCaribe motorcycle tours, invited me up to Jarabacoa for a few days, to learn how to ride a bike. I went up expecting to learn how to shift gears and stay balanced on two wheels. What I got in return was a life changing experience.
My lessons started early Tuesday morning with a basic lesson on motorcycles and their components. Being a rookie rider I had many questions, many of which Robert answered quickly and concisely. We eventually went down to an open parking lot at La Confluencia. It was a big enough space where we could do some maneuvering and practice the basics.
We started our lessons very simply. I straddled the bike and walked with it, feeling the handles, the controls, the clutch and got a general feel for the bike. It was a bit humbling to ride a bike as if I were a 6 year old, but this experience proved to be the most insightful moment of the lessons. At each turn, Robert was right there to answer any questions, or offer his insight and experience.
During this first day we used a raggedy 125cc bike which needed to be kicked started! But we managed to get the handle of it. During this phase of our lessons I learned the details of controlling the clutch, break and throttle and how each related to each other.
With each rev of the engine I felt a bit more comfortable, a bit more empowered, a bit more alive. After a day and a half of practice we moved onto the Suzuki 650cc.
Eventually, after a day of practice and slow maneuvers Robert pushed me a bit and told me take the bike up the hill and give it a bit of juice. The thought of me giving the bike some ?power? scared me, to no end, but these lessons were just as much about riding a vehicle, as conquering the fears which had prevented me from learning how to ride years ago.
I pondered for a sec and got my self ready. I tightened my gloves, looked at the surrounding area and went for it. I eased up on the clutch, still a bit nervous about what I was attempting. But in an instant I had conquered years of hidden fears, had accomplished a long delayed goal and realized that being on two wheels was more than a thought for a dream induced Sunday afternoon.
I felt alive. Not the type of alive you feel when you get a shot at the doctors office. Or the type of alive you feel when you eat a double burger with cheese.
The deafening wind framed my bearded face, as a large smile penetrated the shield of my once fearful restraint. Things were clear, at least for an instant. I was in nature, not just a passenger within the cocooned confines of a car.
The greens and blues whizzed by, but the faster I rode the slower this seemed. The buzzing of the 650cc Suzuki engine was accompanied by the chorus of gears shifting. My hands and feet grabbed the clutch and breaks in a beautiful ballet of clunky metal. I was riding a bike.
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?Every true motorcyclist remembers the exact moment when they wanted to ride a bike.?
These were the first words Robert Cooper spoke to me as we began discussing the working details of riding motorcycles.
Robert, who runs MotoCaribe motorcycle tours, invited me up to Jarabacoa for a few days, to learn how to ride a bike. I went up expecting to learn how to shift gears and stay balanced on two wheels. What I got in return was a life changing experience.
My lessons started early Tuesday morning with a basic lesson on motorcycles and their components. Being a rookie rider I had many questions, many of which Robert answered quickly and concisely. We eventually went down to an open parking lot at La Confluencia. It was a big enough space where we could do some maneuvering and practice the basics.
We started our lessons very simply. I straddled the bike and walked with it, feeling the handles, the controls, the clutch and got a general feel for the bike. It was a bit humbling to ride a bike as if I were a 6 year old, but this experience proved to be the most insightful moment of the lessons. At each turn, Robert was right there to answer any questions, or offer his insight and experience.
During this first day we used a raggedy 125cc bike which needed to be kicked started! But we managed to get the handle of it. During this phase of our lessons I learned the details of controlling the clutch, break and throttle and how each related to each other.
With each rev of the engine I felt a bit more comfortable, a bit more empowered, a bit more alive. After a day and a half of practice we moved onto the Suzuki 650cc.
Eventually, after a day of practice and slow maneuvers Robert pushed me a bit and told me take the bike up the hill and give it a bit of juice. The thought of me giving the bike some ?power? scared me, to no end, but these lessons were just as much about riding a vehicle, as conquering the fears which had prevented me from learning how to ride years ago.
I pondered for a sec and got my self ready. I tightened my gloves, looked at the surrounding area and went for it. I eased up on the clutch, still a bit nervous about what I was attempting. But in an instant I had conquered years of hidden fears, had accomplished a long delayed goal and realized that being on two wheels was more than a thought for a dream induced Sunday afternoon.
I felt alive. Not the type of alive you feel when you get a shot at the doctors office. Or the type of alive you feel when you eat a double burger with cheese.
The deafening wind framed my bearded face, as a large smile penetrated the shield of my once fearful restraint. Things were clear, at least for an instant. I was in nature, not just a passenger within the cocooned confines of a car.
The greens and blues whizzed by, but the faster I rode the slower this seemed. The buzzing of the 650cc Suzuki engine was accompanied by the chorus of gears shifting. My hands and feet grabbed the clutch and breaks in a beautiful ballet of clunky metal. I was riding a bike.