Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Marco's Redemption

Connecticut Bears in Hamilton Township, from left: Grumpy, Captain, CT Blogger, John J., Marco and Pogy down front.
Polar Bear Motorcycle Blog, Polar Bear Grand Tour, ride to Hamilton Tap & Grill, Hamilton Township, NJ, December 22, 2019.

By: Chris Loynd
Photos By: Grumpy

Our new Connecticut Polar Bear popped his cherry Sunday, riding up front for the first time with us. Everyone eventually takes a turn leading the group. It's only fair. Captain, our unofficial Master at Arms, convinced Marco to give it a try. Faithful blog readers will note that setting a good example for Marco was the theme of last week's posting. I thought I'd done a good job. Marco said he was watching. But it didn't take . . . not at first anyway.

Arriving at the Dunkin' as our riders were assembling, I rode up between Marco and Grumpy. I asked Marco if he'd chosen a wingman. He had not. The second rider can make, or break, a leader. I humbly offered my services. I volunteered Grumpy as sweep.

I offered Marco a bit of last minute advice: steady speed, think in big spaces and wait for your sweep.  I specifically said I could help him from the second position. "I've got your back, dog!" I offered brightly. Marco said, "Now I'm a dog?" (I guess ghetto colloquialisms just don't work for pasty white guys like me. I truly meant it as an affirmation of camaraderie and support.)

Marco assured me he knew what he was doing. He'd been a road captain for Eagle Riders.

We lined up behind Marco and departed at the agreed upon hour. Marco took off like a shot. The early morning roads had that nasty film where moisture from the air is attracted by salt still left on the roads from our last snow storm. I was a little uncomfortable with too much lean and too rapid an acceleration on that surface. Marco appeared unconcerned.

On Lordship Boulevard Marco was riding to the right hand side of his lane. I figured he was just doing that for some odd reason to start out. We always go single file up the on ramp in any case. But once on I-95 and settled into our riding positions, Marco was still on the far right side of his lane. For a while I stayed directly behind him, waiting for him to notice and assume the left side of the lane leader's position.

For those who do not ride motorcycles, or perhaps if you ride in England, our style is for the leader on the left, second bike on the right and staggered positions to the end of the line. Maybe Token2 can weigh in. Do they lead from the right in England? But of course if they do, they're also all riding on the right side of the road, so it sort of still comes out the same as it would on this side of the pond.

Riding directly behind Marco had no effect on HIS lane position. After a few miles I figured there were more important concerns. "I guess this will work just as well from the opposite side," I told myself. So I made a dramatic shift to the left side of my lane, signaling the riders behind me that we were adapting to Marco's new lead position.

It worked. I could see my fellow riders switching sides behind me: Captain, John J. and Grumpy as sweep. It drove the obsessive-compulsive part of my brain crazy to be on the "wrong" side. But it wasn't my biggest worry.

My larger concern was speed. We had a lot of it. I was glad I was on the ST. I don't like to run my 100,000 miles-plus Harley motor at these revs for sustained distances. Also, its gas mileage drops off like a rock past 70 mph. The ST has just 50,000 miles on it, despite being 22 years old, and a much higher redline. It can handle the speed. But why?

At first I tried dropping back to see if Marco would slow a bit. It had no effect. In fact, any effort to offer suggestions as his wingman seemed futile. There was no response.

I sped up to keep up, thinking maybe he would settle down. I also needed to catch back up to help keep our group together and follow Marco on lane changes. He was signaling for them and then moving. More than a few times, we split the group because he put a car between himself and the sweep.

It was pretty clear we were going at a fast pace when we met Pogy — on his way to the Darien rest stop from his home in Norwalk. Marco slowed dramatically when he saw Pogy. That's also problematic when leading a line of bikes. As leader you have to remember that each of your speed changes, acceleration and braking, is multiplied by the reaction time delay of each rider behind you. Too many, too quick, speed changes leaves your sweep rider rubber-banding like crazy.

Looking over at Pogy as we first passed him, I could see Pog's first reaction was to look down at his instrument cluster. I'm betting it was his clock he was looking at. We were early. We left on time. We made good time, very good time.

As soon as Pogy fell into line we were off to the races again. Except when he approached the Darien rest stop. There, Marco slowed dramatically to pick up, I assume, Pogy's phantom. Captain said he made it clear to Marco who we were picking up en route. At lunch Marco defended himself saying he slowed to pick up any other riders who may be waiting there. Captain was flustered.

After the Darien slowing we were soon up to speed again — and then some.

It was a bit nervy on the parkways with the turns and disappearing lanes and still wet roadways. We broke the group again riding onto the GW Bridge. It's not the place to regroup. So when we exited the bridge and got onto the express lanes headed for the turnpike, I pulled up next to Marco to get him into the slow lane and slowed dramatically. When I saw our strays coming up behind, I gave him the go ahead signal. And he went.

There were more problematic lane changes. The extra speed takes away decision and reaction time, making everything more difficult.

When we arrived at our destination and conversation was once again possible, Marco got an earful. From everybody.

He was defensive.

So was I. "I cannot help you as wingman if you don't use your mirrors," I said. Actually, the first thing I said getting off my bike was, "Where's the f***ing fire?" By his reaction it appeared my speed analogy was no more successful than my friendly "dog" comment.

Marco assured us he did not exceed our usual speed. The rest of us assured him he did.

To his credit, Marco hung in there. He joined us for lunch.

After the initial sting of criticism, he listened. He told me his father always said, "You'll learn something new to the day you die." He thought perhaps his speedometer was off calibration due to new tires. Apparently the other groups he'd ridden with always led from the right side of the lane. He thought some of his lane changes would work if he got over and then the rest of us could flow in behind him.

John J. piped in with some convoluted description of when leading from the right side of the lane was advantageous on curves. He cited a YouTube video as proof. But I couldn't find it.

(Aside: My wife Cynthia and I caught John J. playing bass to support a group "Better Half" at Fairfield Craft Ales in Stratford. We had an absolutely wonderful time. For Cynthia Fairfield Craft Ales served wine. I tasted several wonderfully crafted ales. And we had a nice buffalo bacon pizza. John J. and "Better Half" were awesome. Lots of great rock from the 60s and 70s. John saved the group from a heckler arguing that the Facebook Meetup said it was for Christmas and the band had no carols in its repertoire. John J. on the spot led the whole room in an A cappella rendition of "Deck the Halls" with the audience heartily singing its fall-la-las. John J., keep sending out those invites to your performances!)

Fonz stopped by at lunch to say hello. He'd left earlier to get home earlier. Something about contractors at the house. We could not, of course, miss the opportunity to regale him with tales of our wild ride. But then Fonz has a special reputation of his own when it comes to leading the CT Polar Bears.

So after lunch we worked out a few changes, still with Marco in the lead.

At Marco's suggestion, once we got up onto the Turnpike and the traffic allowed, I pulled into the lane next to him and signaled when my speed was steady at 70. That allowed Marco to recalibrate his own speedometer. He acquiesced to lead from the left. He also worked with his sweep.

As we flowed up the NJ Turnpike and Garden State Parkway it was like night and day. Only Grumpy and I stopped at the top of the GSP for hot cocoa, the rest riding on ahead. So until this blog, the only affirmation I could offer Marco was a hearty thumbs-up gesture. His second leading was smooth, controlled and comfortable.

Marco, I'd follow you again and gladly . . . so long as you lead like your ride home last Sunday.
































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