Index:
Part 1
I didn’t get my M class license until I was 30; technically 31. Graduated licensing was a new concept to me, being just old enough to have missed it when I received my drivers license at 16. Since my mother was dead set against me getting my M license, I had to wait until I was 19. That 3 year wait, while trivial, had enough life changing moments to forget about that desire. Girls, growing up a tiny amount, moving out on my own, college. All those added up to a dream I forgot about.
For several years, I went without. I would jump on a dirt bike here and there, or ride a quad, but nothing of my own. I did get a Raleigh portage comfort bicycle around 2005, which was better than nothing. I actually still have it, tucked away in my garage. I even pump up the tires and lube up the chain every spring, telling myself this is the year I will use it again. It never is. Aside from owning a a couple of cars, and a truck, not much happened between 1996 when I sold the CR250, and 2007. By 2007 I owned my own house, was married, stable job, and was once again expanding my horizons. I wanted a dirt bike. I had suffered a back injury about 3 years before, and wasn’t interested in something small, like a minibike or a pit bike. I was looking for something larger, but not too powerful.
Initially, I set my eyes on a Honda XR250R. That lasted about 2 days before I realized I couldn’t afford one. The idea of taking a loan out for a dirt bike seemed insane at the time, and still does. So I looked around, and eventually settled on a Chinese knock off of the CRF250. I found a GIO 250, just finished it’s break in, the original protective plastic still on the seat, for sale by the original owner, for a reasonable price; $1800. I could see why it was for sale, the gentlemen was 5’6”, at most, while the bike had a 35” seat height. His wife was making him sell it. I pulled out $1600 in cash, and the deal was done. 250cc of Chinese power made by Lifan, on a really sturdy frame, electric start, with shocks and brakes that worked. It was already way better than my old Honda Elsinore CR250.
I spent a lot of spring and summer of 2007 just riding around trails up near Bon Echo park. The GIO wasn’t fast, but it was reliable, and had enough power to climb any hill I was brave enough to attempt. It kept up with the others on quads without issue, and could get places they couldn’t. I felt younger than I had in a while, constantly reminded of my mid teens, and summers spent on the trails. More importantly, though, was the experience coming back to me. They say you never forget to ride a bike, and while I will agree it’s partially true, it’s not all true. I had to learn how to finesse the clutch again. How to shift gears properly, and remember to down shift. It took several failed hill starts, and a couple of drops to really get that one back. The joy was there again. Wind across my face, and that sense of flying.
During the same time period in 2007, I was being encouraged to get my M class license by my wife of the time. She in fact purchased the M1 exit course, the motorcycle safety course to pass the first stage of M class licensing in Ontario, as my 30th birthday present. At the drive test office, I wrote and passed the written tests, and was granted my M1 permit. Then, in July of 2007, for 5 nights during a single week, I spent 4 hours an evening in a parking lot at the local college.
The first night, we were pushing the motorcycles, a collection of dirt bikes and beginner bikes, around the lot. You would sit on a bike, while someone pushed it, and then you would push, while someone sat on the bike. It was embarrassing. The idea was to get a feel for the balance, and the braking, before the engines were on, and we could get into real trouble. I scoffed to myself, but played along. About half way through that first night, while I wasn’t exactly learning much, I realized a lot of people were. It was a little sobering, and I tried to be less negative about the first night. I assumed people taking a course like this would all be like me, avid dirt bikers with years of experience, looking to hit the pavement. There were people like that, but the majority were people just wanting to try something different. Better than half the class had never been on a dirt bike, or motorcycle, of any kind. It made the whole experience quite entertaining at times. I picked out the largest bike they had available, a Yamaha TTR230, which was still pretty small with me on it.
The second night, we had the motors running, and spent over an hour learning to feel for the friction zone of the clutch. A whole hour not actually going anywhere. Once we had that down, we finally rode. About 100 feet, in a straight line, and then stopped at a line of marker cones. We then turned the bikes around, by hand, not under power, and rode back; in a straight line, 100 feet, and stopped. Somewhere in here I got frustrated, and instead of turning around by hand, I zipped over to an empty spot, did a couple of circles, turned around, and lined up again. One of the instructors promptly asked me to get off the bike, and take a break. I was stood off to one side, and asked to wait. It was frustrating, irritating, and annoying. A lot of money had been paid for the course. I expected to be part of the course. The same instructor came over after a few minutes to talk to me. I expected him to be angry, threaten to kick me out of the course, etc… Instead, he was pretty great. I wish I could remember the gentlemen’s name, because he was truly a good teacher. He explained that I obviously knew how to ride, and that while the early parts of the course might be frustrating to me, it was important I play along to not upset the other students. Fair point. The next part was harder for me to accept, because he then explained that while I knew how to ride a dirt bike, I did not know how to ride a motorcycle. This was made more funny by the fact that I was taking the course on a dirt bike. I listened though, and approached it all with an open mind; for the most part.
The rest of the course is largely a blur, because it was hot, and busy, and fun. Honestly, fun. A friend of mine took the course last year, and I nearly joined him just for the fun aspect. We learned emergency evasion techniques. Low speed handling. Proper cornering techniques. Look where you want to go. What counter steering is, and how it works. Laughed at the one guy who insisted that was wrong, and tried to prove he was right, attempting to directly steer the bike, and turning out of his turns each time. Spent hours just zipping around in second and third gear (first and second on the street bikes) on obstacle courses. Slaloms. The most nerve racking was a lesson where one of the instructors stood at the end of a lane, about 100m long. We had to get up to speed, and the instructor would at the last second indicate which way we need to swerve, with a flag. We were going no more than 30km/h, but it felt a lot faster. When the instructor was getting closer and closer to you, and still not indicating which way to go, you would start to panic. Some students would stop, just stop in the middle of the lane. One dropped his bike in a very slow low side. One student actually made the instructor run when he target fixated on the instructor. It was easy to imagine you were going to hit the instructor, and that he was never going to point his flag. He of course did, and with plenty of room, and you would evade. That was the lesson, look for the opening, and evade, don’t touch your brakes. It was a very valuable lesson, possibly the most important. Evade, don’t stop. Stopping leaves you open to be hit from behind. And on the course went like that. Some students dropped their bikes. Most didn’t. No major accidents.
The last day is your test, and it’s when you realize that everything they had you practicing is the test. The tone shifts. The instructors are no longer coaching, instead they’re queuing us up. There is one thing going around, don’t drop your bike. It’s an instant fail if you drop your bike. No pressure, well not for me anyway. For a few others though, lots of pressure. And away we go, taking turns, running the same obstacles we have all week, but this time we’re being marked. I very nearly panicked on the emergency evasion test, but did good. All in all, I passed with only a single mark off the whole test. I was pretty happy about that fact. Some others in my class did not fair as well. One older gentlemen dropped his bike on a low speed portion in a corner. One younger man failed by not doing well enough on all of the tests combined. Out of roughly 30 people, 28 of us passed; graduating to a M2 license, to wait 18 months to take the final test to be granted our M license. 22 months, if you didn’t take the M1 exit course. I was a licensed motorcyclist now, with the only restrictions being zero alcohol, and no passengers. It was pretty exciting, but I didn’t run out and buy a motorcycle just yet. Firstly, I wasn’t ready financially. Secondly, I was still enjoying the dirt bike life, and wasn’t feeling an overwhelming need to get on the road just yet. The M1 exit course had sobered me on some of my preconceptions around my own skill level, leaving me a little apprehensive. I was okay with waiting a little.