in my mind's eye, i am riding with the young man at incredible speed down an icy tube, inches off the deck. i've been having trouble with my focus, due perhaps to jetlag or being in a strange country surrounded by strange culture while my family anxiously awaits my events a half a world away. maybe i got spooked in one of the fast turns earlier in the day practicing the unfamiliar course, but i'm still pushing, because the expectations of my family and country weigh on me. i miss a few of my marks, and my attention goes behind me rather than ahead, thinking of mistakes i just made, further sapping my confidence. things seem to be coming at me way too fast. i momentarily lose track of where i am on the course, and suddenly, the turn that scares me is right there. and i just know i'm going too fast to make it. fear takes over all my reactions, and i tense up, immediately looking for a nonexistent escape route, convinced i need to get off this contraption. things go bad quickly, and i am off my sled, hurtling down the frictionless chute with even less control. and you know the rest.
the piece below is one i posted on a couple motorcycle rider forums this past summer, following the serious injury of a buddy of mine in a weekend mishap. i still don't know the whole story concerning his get-off, so my version of events will have to suffice. the point, however, relates exactly to how i feel about the luge-run accident. it is very sad, and i hate to hear of the violent demise of any fellow human being. i remain convinced that it was his responsibility to take a step back and come to grips with that fear before heading down the hill again.
We had a not-so-good weekend up here in the NC mountains with a solid rider, and friend, in the Trauma ward as a result. Broken pelvis, blood on the brain, and other injuries sustained in a minor lowside on a road without room for that error. Rob went hurling a few feet down into a rocky creekbed. Strangely, the group was comprised of riders who had been with another minor lowside that turned fatal when the rider met a tree, almost exactly a year ago. That's just weird.
We ride sportbikes, and most all of us like to ride fast. That's the point, to some extent. I try to reel it in to 7 or 8/10ths on the street, but sometimes the dicks come out for the dick-waving contest, and luckily, mine hasn't led me into any avoidable mistakes. Most of the guys I ride with are in the same boat - willingly acknowledging when we get stupid, then backing down, only to wick it up again next time, usually in the most challenging sections.
I think the thing that sets the great riders - the truly greats, like Fogarty, Spencer, Haga, Bayliss, Rossi, Spies, even f'n Mladin - apart, is CONFIDENCE. Duh. But they also exhibit an incredible lack of FEAR.
Fear is a killer. Fear will steal your attention, directing it to something frivolous, and tell you you're fucked. Fear will convince you, despite much evidence to the contrary, that something bad is about to happen. And then it does. Fear can also be a pall, jumping from one isolated incident with one rider to affect an entire group. We call it an "off day" or "not feeling it," then in a half-hearted attempt to shake it, carry on. Sometimes we can shake it off & recover, but too often end up riding uncomfortable, off-kilter & off-line, inviting a mishap. I watched Dani Pedrosa push the front so hard he had to pick it up off his knee the other day, then flip it over & attack the next corner as if nothing had happened. I've had some of my best days like that myself - near-highsiding in an unseen sandpile, then rail it on down the road, giggling...but how come sometimes it just doesn't come back?
How to turn it off? Recapture focus, exorcise the demon fear, and stop. thinking.
One time, I was up in the woods w/a friend of mine, hucking off this 8' rock drop on my DH bicycle. Craig wanted to do it; the run-in was perfect, the landing had good transition, and he is a capable rider...but he kept balking. The last time, I watched, and as he rolled to the edge, I yelled up, "STOP THINKING, NOW!" and he hit the drop perfectly. He was so amped! For that split second, he forgot about all the things that could've gone wrong & focused on landing it.
I find I have to do this to myself when I ride - push aside all the bullshit thoughts, the doubts, the fear demons. They are only trying to hurt me. Gravel in the road is a perfect example. Instead of focusing on where the gravel IS, you have to ascertain where it ISN'T, because that is the key. I have a friend who'll run his BMW R1100S thru piles of gravel in the road at normal street speeds, as if it isn't even there. He says, "the bike's not gonna just shoot out from under you - just aim for where the least of it is & let the bike roll. When you get to the other side, it'll hook." And it does - every time that I've seen so far. If you tense up as your mind screams "GRAVEL!!!," and you grab a handful of brakes or chop the throttle completely, all the weight goes to the front, the bike goes off-line (ie INTO THE GRAVEL), the front tire locks up, and down you go. Wet roads - same thing. Having seen him rail some crazy-dirty pieces of road, I myself have gained some faith - not only in the capability of the bike, but in my own ability to relax & ride the damn thing. I have this idea that if he can do it, then I can do it. I've gotten a ton of mileage out of that sentiment.
How many times do we hear, "It's an inherently dangerous activity. Wrecking is a part of the game." But FEAR causes more offs than anything else, I bet. It takes a TON of practice & active relaxation in the face of danger to hone the ability to put FEAR aside. Tons. Of. Practice. And ambition. To some, the ability to ride a fast pace in the wet is NOT IMPORTANT. Don't care to know that, thanks. But get caught out in the middle of nowhere with only wet twisty roads to get home on, it makes a difference then! Some don't feel crossing the yellow line overcooking a corner is that big a deal. Until there's an oncoming truck. Another friend nearly got taken out on Sat by a minivan that had crossed the yellow significantly - he was able to relax & tighten his radius. Had he been hit by the minivan, he would've had the right-of-way. He would not have been doing anything wrong. But he would be hurt or dead - small condolence to be in the right, when you're dead. It came from years of experience, of practice relaxing in the face of FEAR. It's an action. Actively forgetting the threat & refocusing on the correct response.
If I find myself in a group & the fear pall hits - one guy says, "Man - I'm just not feeling it today.." or "My buddy went off in this next section & broke his..." or a couple people start blowing corners, I usually find a reason to get the hell out of there. I'm not saying the death of the rider a year ago had ANYTHING to do with my friend Rob's off, but the coincidence of riders & dates, with the downed rider's Memorial Ride scheduled for the next day, would've been enough to give me pause. Riding nervous is riding scared. We cannot ride around at the speeds we ride around at, HOPING nothing bad happens to us.
I think we need to ride instead with the assumption that nothing bad is going to happen to us, because we're capable of avoiding it. And if we can't make that assumption, then practice, practice, practice exorcising that fear demon; putting it aside; turning off the chatter - whatever metaphor works for you - until we do.
To put forth a very concise version of what I'm trying to say...TRAIN the brain to block out the "Survival Reactions" (Code) - the mantra idea works (i use "Focus" myself), breathing works. Instinct works, sometimes, so long as you pick the right one. Many riders will panic and try to get off immediately when things begin to go awry, while a better rider will add a little lean angle, or brake just a tad harder, or pick it up with his knee...! Sometimes you have to pick Fight over Flight.
I'm also trying to say it's an attitude we must carry with us, tucked into our leathers somewhere - HUMILITY. Not the beat-dog kind of humility, either. There's a very interesting definition of humility that says it's a "clear recognition of who and what we really are, followed by a sincere attempt to become what we could be..." This resonates with me.
I am a solid motorcycle rider, with natural ability and years of experience on the street and track. I love the feel of throwing it into a corner, loading the front, railing the apex, then standing it up as the rear tire squirms under heavy throttle. I live for that.
I am constantly striving for improvement, however. I'm not satisfied with my level of skill, experience, or outright speed.
I also know when to dial it back, and I know where 7/10ths is for me.
I am also generally convinced that I will make it home in one piece. If not, I wouldn't leave the house.
We ride sportbikes, and most all of us like to ride fast. That's the point, to some extent. I try to reel it in to 7 or 8/10ths on the street, but sometimes the dicks come out for the dick-waving contest, and luckily, mine hasn't led me into any avoidable mistakes. Most of the guys I ride with are in the same boat - willingly acknowledging when we get stupid, then backing down, only to wick it up again next time, usually in the most challenging sections.
I think the thing that sets the great riders - the truly greats, like Fogarty, Spencer, Haga, Bayliss, Rossi, Spies, even f'n Mladin - apart, is CONFIDENCE. Duh. But they also exhibit an incredible lack of FEAR.
Fear is a killer. Fear will steal your attention, directing it to something frivolous, and tell you you're fucked. Fear will convince you, despite much evidence to the contrary, that something bad is about to happen. And then it does. Fear can also be a pall, jumping from one isolated incident with one rider to affect an entire group. We call it an "off day" or "not feeling it," then in a half-hearted attempt to shake it, carry on. Sometimes we can shake it off & recover, but too often end up riding uncomfortable, off-kilter & off-line, inviting a mishap. I watched Dani Pedrosa push the front so hard he had to pick it up off his knee the other day, then flip it over & attack the next corner as if nothing had happened. I've had some of my best days like that myself - near-highsiding in an unseen sandpile, then rail it on down the road, giggling...but how come sometimes it just doesn't come back?
How to turn it off? Recapture focus, exorcise the demon fear, and stop. thinking.
One time, I was up in the woods w/a friend of mine, hucking off this 8' rock drop on my DH bicycle. Craig wanted to do it; the run-in was perfect, the landing had good transition, and he is a capable rider...but he kept balking. The last time, I watched, and as he rolled to the edge, I yelled up, "STOP THINKING, NOW!" and he hit the drop perfectly. He was so amped! For that split second, he forgot about all the things that could've gone wrong & focused on landing it.
I find I have to do this to myself when I ride - push aside all the bullshit thoughts, the doubts, the fear demons. They are only trying to hurt me. Gravel in the road is a perfect example. Instead of focusing on where the gravel IS, you have to ascertain where it ISN'T, because that is the key. I have a friend who'll run his BMW R1100S thru piles of gravel in the road at normal street speeds, as if it isn't even there. He says, "the bike's not gonna just shoot out from under you - just aim for where the least of it is & let the bike roll. When you get to the other side, it'll hook." And it does - every time that I've seen so far. If you tense up as your mind screams "GRAVEL!!!," and you grab a handful of brakes or chop the throttle completely, all the weight goes to the front, the bike goes off-line (ie INTO THE GRAVEL), the front tire locks up, and down you go. Wet roads - same thing. Having seen him rail some crazy-dirty pieces of road, I myself have gained some faith - not only in the capability of the bike, but in my own ability to relax & ride the damn thing. I have this idea that if he can do it, then I can do it. I've gotten a ton of mileage out of that sentiment.
How many times do we hear, "It's an inherently dangerous activity. Wrecking is a part of the game." But FEAR causes more offs than anything else, I bet. It takes a TON of practice & active relaxation in the face of danger to hone the ability to put FEAR aside. Tons. Of. Practice. And ambition. To some, the ability to ride a fast pace in the wet is NOT IMPORTANT. Don't care to know that, thanks. But get caught out in the middle of nowhere with only wet twisty roads to get home on, it makes a difference then! Some don't feel crossing the yellow line overcooking a corner is that big a deal. Until there's an oncoming truck. Another friend nearly got taken out on Sat by a minivan that had crossed the yellow significantly - he was able to relax & tighten his radius. Had he been hit by the minivan, he would've had the right-of-way. He would not have been doing anything wrong. But he would be hurt or dead - small condolence to be in the right, when you're dead. It came from years of experience, of practice relaxing in the face of FEAR. It's an action. Actively forgetting the threat & refocusing on the correct response.
If I find myself in a group & the fear pall hits - one guy says, "Man - I'm just not feeling it today.." or "My buddy went off in this next section & broke his..." or a couple people start blowing corners, I usually find a reason to get the hell out of there. I'm not saying the death of the rider a year ago had ANYTHING to do with my friend Rob's off, but the coincidence of riders & dates, with the downed rider's Memorial Ride scheduled for the next day, would've been enough to give me pause. Riding nervous is riding scared. We cannot ride around at the speeds we ride around at, HOPING nothing bad happens to us.
I think we need to ride instead with the assumption that nothing bad is going to happen to us, because we're capable of avoiding it. And if we can't make that assumption, then practice, practice, practice exorcising that fear demon; putting it aside; turning off the chatter - whatever metaphor works for you - until we do.
To put forth a very concise version of what I'm trying to say...TRAIN the brain to block out the "Survival Reactions" (Code) - the mantra idea works (i use "Focus" myself), breathing works. Instinct works, sometimes, so long as you pick the right one. Many riders will panic and try to get off immediately when things begin to go awry, while a better rider will add a little lean angle, or brake just a tad harder, or pick it up with his knee...! Sometimes you have to pick Fight over Flight.
I'm also trying to say it's an attitude we must carry with us, tucked into our leathers somewhere - HUMILITY. Not the beat-dog kind of humility, either. There's a very interesting definition of humility that says it's a "clear recognition of who and what we really are, followed by a sincere attempt to become what we could be..." This resonates with me.
I am a solid motorcycle rider, with natural ability and years of experience on the street and track. I love the feel of throwing it into a corner, loading the front, railing the apex, then standing it up as the rear tire squirms under heavy throttle. I live for that.
I am constantly striving for improvement, however. I'm not satisfied with my level of skill, experience, or outright speed.
I also know when to dial it back, and I know where 7/10ths is for me.
I am also generally convinced that I will make it home in one piece. If not, I wouldn't leave the house.
once again, please don't judge me to be lacking in compassion. i feel we all need to understand our psyches and our metaphysical limitations, especially if involved in activities more likely to kill us than everyday life. i'm also not saying there's a guarantee against death or serious injury by practicing what amounts to self-hypnosis. there's always a chance i could die. i am convinced, though, that the chances of mutilation are much higher when fear makes the scene.
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please set me straight -