Dark Angel
Still kickin' it!
One day, I went out on my ‘Bird. I’d just fitted an upgraded rear shock (YSS) and I was keen to experience the difference it made to the sensations and feedback I got from the bike. The next day, I went out on my R1 and found that the experience I’d had on the ‘Bird transferred easily to the much lighter and faster sports bike, because, having appreciated my new, ‘Bird-specific reference points, I was able then to create new reference points “across the board” as it were. Simply put: learn something on one bike – and you can re-employ the outcomes of that learning process on a different bike, and to good effect.
Years later, having forgotten all the previous stuff, I fitted a newly-acquired Corbin seat to my ‘Bird (have I mentioned that before?), and I was truly surprised by the difference it made in terms of handling a bike that is more familiarly known, even to its admirers, as “a bit of a barge”. If you’re familiar with your bike to the extent that you’re immediately and acutely aware of any changes that have been made to it, in terms of either comfort or performance, then you'll know what I mean.
After riding the 'Bird I jumped on the R1 and went for a test ride after carrying out one or two overdue maintenance tasks. I didn't realise that I was carrying the same level of relaxation and feeling of control and trust in the bike as I'd experienced on the 'Bird until the little bike took me through a series of bends at a faster rate than I'd ever experienced before. Let me stress here that I was on an empty road with excellent forward visibility in clear, warm, bright weather: a "back of the hand" road, if I may put it that way.
I wasn't in a hurry and I wasn't "trying to be fast": I was riding comfortably and within my capabilities - but I was also riding in a way that was better informed by my earlier progress on a different bike. The experience on the 'Bird had transferred, subliminally, to compliment my abilities on the Yamaha.
It was quite a revelation for me, and one that I enjoyed thoroughly.
Bikes are bastids because they're so bloody pe-rrr-sonal. Ride somebody else's bike and it'll be "OK" (shit) - or "bloody fantastic" (you can have my wife, house, car and the kids - just tell me how you did that!); there doesn't seem to be an in-between, it's all-or-nothing. And that's the kind of revelatory learning experience that I'm on about. Maybe you've had a similar experience. Maybe you understand how I feel.
I fookin' love bikes, me.
Years later, having forgotten all the previous stuff, I fitted a newly-acquired Corbin seat to my ‘Bird (have I mentioned that before?), and I was truly surprised by the difference it made in terms of handling a bike that is more familiarly known, even to its admirers, as “a bit of a barge”. If you’re familiar with your bike to the extent that you’re immediately and acutely aware of any changes that have been made to it, in terms of either comfort or performance, then you'll know what I mean.
After riding the 'Bird I jumped on the R1 and went for a test ride after carrying out one or two overdue maintenance tasks. I didn't realise that I was carrying the same level of relaxation and feeling of control and trust in the bike as I'd experienced on the 'Bird until the little bike took me through a series of bends at a faster rate than I'd ever experienced before. Let me stress here that I was on an empty road with excellent forward visibility in clear, warm, bright weather: a "back of the hand" road, if I may put it that way.
I wasn't in a hurry and I wasn't "trying to be fast": I was riding comfortably and within my capabilities - but I was also riding in a way that was better informed by my earlier progress on a different bike. The experience on the 'Bird had transferred, subliminally, to compliment my abilities on the Yamaha.
It was quite a revelation for me, and one that I enjoyed thoroughly.
Bikes are bastids because they're so bloody pe-rrr-sonal. Ride somebody else's bike and it'll be "OK" (shit) - or "bloody fantastic" (you can have my wife, house, car and the kids - just tell me how you did that!); there doesn't seem to be an in-between, it's all-or-nothing. And that's the kind of revelatory learning experience that I'm on about. Maybe you've had a similar experience. Maybe you understand how I feel.
I fookin' love bikes, me.