The lament and the joy

The ruins of a wasted monsoon lie in my cabin at work. It's shocking. The carpet is worn but clean. There's not a wet patch on it. Not even the faint imprint of a wet motorcycle boot. I haven't grappled with the problem of hanging up wet kit to dry. My table has never been baptized by brown water dripping of my usually spotless lid either. This entire monsoon has been an utter disaster.

I duly dusted off my trusty DMS boots, pulled out my favorite waterproof gloves and that cheap set of waterproofs that are in their last rainy season before a new one is needed. To no avail.

It wouldn't be fair to say that I haven't been in the rain, mind you. A zillion showers have streamed off my visor this year and when I wasn't riding, I've enjoyed the heady rattle of rain on my windscreen as well. But this isn't enough.

I love commuting, you know that. I deeply, deeply enjoy commuting in the rain. It's a peculiar challenge that appeals to every one of OCD habits. I love the fact that my knowledge of the roads I am riding is used fully. I usually know what lies beneath the water on my commute. I don't slow for potholes as much as remember what's under the water and the blast through it, thrilled by the water splashing off.

I haven't been able to do that this season. I've just not been here.

That changed last night. Carl Orff's Carmina Burana played impossibly loudly in my head - the loudest, most intimate music system of them all. I restarted my Fazer after a month off it and made my home in a sparkling display - I'd like to believe - of superbly, smooth uninterrupted riding.

I realised that I miss being able to use parts of the road other users don't trust in this season. That rising up on the pegs to whizz over potholes with utter smoothness is a thrill all of its own. And that I deeply enjoy this. I'm often caught yelling cheery things to myself in the helmet as I do these things. That there are moments in there when I reach out and touch the innocent highs that you lose once your childhood is over.

But as of last night, the blue phase is past. The Fazer is fueled up and ready. And as am I.

In fact, today, I aim to turn up a cocktail party in full kit. Hopefully it will be splattered with muck and rain. I will nurse my iced water (slice of lime, please) until the key in the pocket glows red hot and it becomes time to head home.

And thank the lord I live far, far away from work. The monsoon will be here another 20-odd days. And by jove I intend to make full use of the days IO have left.

Kawasakis cometh

Finally. The last of the four big Japanese players has entered India. The Bajaj-Kawasaki relationship has, of late, worked better abroad for both than really in India. And in India, the almost complete disappearance of the Kawasaki and Bajaj's obvious ability to develop bikes has created a strange dynamic that is very much at odds with where the whole thing began in 1984.

Well, finally, they all seem to be heading in the direction they're supposed to. Rajiv Bajaj said at the media event that Bajaj will focus on its products - the Pulsar/Avenger bikes that will sustain the bottom of the ProBiking pyramid - a pragmatic, even shrewd choice. This doesn't mean that the rumoured twin-cylinder Pulsar isn't coming. It just means that Bajaj-Kawasaki-KTM are working towards offering the complete spectrum of motorcycles without stepping on each others toes. This is beneficial to all - initially. Once the big bike market gets going, then internal cannibalisation and so forth can happen. Again, historically, Bajaj is one of the few Indian bike makers who has not been afraid to let its own bikes take sales away from others in its own lineup.

What does this mean for you? The Ninja 250 has established two things - that big bikes will sell and the segment will continue to grow. And secondly, assembly operations can be made to work in India with significant duty savings. India Kawasaki Motors, the new company, will liaise with Bajaj who will assemble a growing number of CKDs at their Chakan facility. Some motorcycles - the 800cc plus ones - will come in as CBUs and directly complete with the likes of the R1 and the Fireblade.

However, the action will be in the sub-800cc segment where, for instance, a mid-displacement naked or cruiser could easily be assembled and be ready to roll out of the showrooms at prices from Rs 5 to 7 lakh - way lower than most other big bikes on the market.

Indian Kawasaki Motors is expected to have its first bike (Ninja 250 aside) in the market by June 2010, and they've said it will be a supersport. Kawasaki's range doesn't have too many of those - there's the ZX-6R, ZX-10R and ZX-14. Since assembly and CKD are the big words at this announcement, I have to assume that it will be the smaller bike. Although given the over 800cc status of both of the others, the 10 and the 14 would simply be easier to launch.

However, there are some other (non-supersport) Kawasakis that are truly of Indian interest. Take the Kawasaki's Versys based series of 650cc twins. Any and all of them would be great on Indian roads. They'd be fast enough, easy enough and desirable enough. Me? I've long held that the R6 would be my perfect Indian ride - very personal decision, that - and if Yamaha were not to be progressive enough, I certainly wouldn't mind riding a ZX-6R. How about you?

Better yet, this will probably end up forcing Yamaha, Honda and Suzuki to consider Indian assembly and homologation, something they've been very standoffish about so far.

Interesting times lie ahead.

Harry Hurt. 1927-2009

Hugh H Hurt the author of the world's moat famous motorcycle accident
study and the man credited with creating the awareness of the
importance of helmets for motorcycle has passed away.

http://www.latimes.com/news/obituaries/la-me-harry-hurt2-2009dec02,0,1034954.story

Video: Old Indians Never Ever Die: Trailer

Freedom.

We've forgotten what you have to pay for and what's free. I was reminded of it recently and I thought I do a good deed and remind you in turn. You pay for a motorcycle. The enjoyment of riding it is free. You pay for a meal. The tingle of your taste buds is free. Are you getting my drift?

There was a time when I used to complain about how some websites I liked weren't updated often enough. I mean, they were such good reads that could the author not update it every twenty minutes or so? And then I stopped. As much as I like books, I realised that some of these sites, updated annually as they were, were still free. Whereas I was obliged to pay about a thousand bucks for each book I bought. And I bought a heck of a lot of books. I still do.

There was also a time when I used to tell people to be safer on their bikes by doing this, that and theo other. I stopped doing that as well. I realised that advice was as free as your right to use your life in any way you please.

There was, further, a time when I used to wonder how old I'd get before a manufacturer would launch a motorcycle that I could dream about, and then in rapid order, afford. And then own. And then settle down with. I stopped doing that as well. I guess wobbling around madly in love when I'm sixty will still be good enough. And the bitterness of the wait simply isn't worth the gall.

There was a time, when I used to blog heavily. Don't know why I stopped doing that. And then I realised that I used to be free. Heh heh.

New poll: Crashing constantly?

How many times do you fall off your bike every year

So, how many times a year do you tend to fall off? We'll go into how you crash after this... that one should be fun, eh?

Poll results: When do you wear your helmet?

I've basically nothing left to say on this subject. I am hoping against hope that the 4 per cent who don't use their helmet when touring basically never go touring and that the 35 per cent who prefer not to ride with a helmet in town essentially use public transport or their cages. As for the 14 per cent who never use a lid, my fingers are crossed that they aren't riders at all, just web traffic, passing through.

Learning to Ride

"How many days will it take me to learn how to ride a motorcycle?"

Wow, there's a question that stumped me. I didn't know the answer, honest. I told the young man that if he meant only the operation of the controls - clutch, brake, throttle - that would take 20 minutes. But learning to ride a motorcycle is a complex thing, no? I told him it depended on him. If he just needed to be proficient enough to get from home to work, that would sort itself in six months. But to evolve beyond that could take years!

I got to thinking about that and it's true. Unlike driving, riding motorcycles is a lot more nuanced. You need to learn a lot more to be good at it. I'm not saying these nuances don't exist for cagers, but the fact of the matter is a nuance that escapes you on a bike could kill you whereas in a car, it might mean little more than awkward looking metal, a tough session with the parents and a few rounds of insurance.

The other thing is that unlike learning to drive, learning to ride invariably depends on someone you know who is willing to teach you. Teach you all the basic points and whatever of those nuances he's figured out. And all the bad habits this person has picked up. There simply isn't a place or person you can go to learn riding from scratch in a structured fashion that aims to build you up into a serious, committed motorcyclist.

I learnt from a cousin brother of sorts, well, neighbour actually and at some level, I owe him my life and livelihood. But I don't even remember his face or name. I only recall his blue KB100, that springy feeling of a stretching throttle cable, the rising note of an urgent, if civil, two-stroke, a warm night flying by in reverse and a young heart throbbing in fascination at the experience. And yeah, I don't remember him telling me where the brakes were. Then I remember flying down a road in the Delhi IIT Campus on a brother-in-law's white Kinetic Honda. The scooter was stunned at the turn of speed - he rode it very gently - and then at the speedbreaker... both brakes pulled in hard-hard-hard and the throttle still on. And my first big air. And the strong apprehension that he will discover something broken later. Shit.

I remember riding my classmate Sachin's Yamaha RX100 down the road and being given all sorts of advice involving the battery running down if the ignition was left on for too long. I know now, that that's hogwash, but I was meticulous in the extreme with that bike's ignition. And I remember wafting about slowly on that bike too.

Then I got my Kinetic Honda and I simply cannot remember a time when the poor thing was ridden gently at all. That's the bike I realised I wanted to ride seriously. That's when the kit fixation started and that's when riding it for the sake of riding it became an obsession.

Point is that I cannot remember receiving riding advice from a serious motorcyclist until much, much later.

My riding 'style' has changed since I began riding. Rustom Patel - the motocrosser - changed my paws on levers riding style to two fingers on each lever. I remember these contributions because they're the only ones I got.

Think it's time to return the favour.
How do I do this? Ideas to rearsetblog [at] gmail. [dot] please.

Not again!

I received this anonymous comment yesteday

i have read the exact same review somewhere else.. either you copied from them or they copied from you... and i doubt you.. you could have at least noted that it was taken off from an another site.. its really pathetic

For this post.

I found that the whole first ride was posted verbatim at

• http://gudupdates.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-new-yamaha-fz-16.html
• http://motorcyclistlarge.blogspot.com/2008/12/yamaha-fz16-first-ride.html

I have to agree with the comment, this is really pathetic. But I am in no doubt at all that I did actually write that post.