An Ass No More

     Everything I know about journalism can be summed up in three sentences that I learned in my tenth grade communications class. Tell the people what you're going to tell them. Tell them. Then tell them what you've told them.

     And so I drag my angst ridden butt back to the keyboard this month, knowing that my penultimate epistle, "Brakes? Perhaps...." (Sept. Rider) failed to pass the sophomore journalism litmus test. You may recall that I struggled to reconcile my wishy washy corner entry strategy with those of two highly placed authorities on street riding: Nick Ienatsch, chief instructor at Freddie Spencer's High Performance Riding School and author of the recently published "Sport Riding Techniques" ...and David Hough, author of the "Proficient Motorcycling" series. Ienatsch, a highly decorated racer, extolled the benefits of trail braking (carrying the brakes past the turn entry), while Hough advocated braking for every corner short of a freeway sweeper.

     Okay, but a day after hitting my computer's "send" button, while riding a student on the back of my bike down twisty OH Route 260 in the Wayne National Forest, I had an epiphany. Heading opposite to my usual northbound direction, we came upon a downhill straightaway--uncharacteristically steep and long by Ohio standards--which culminated in a tight, 90 degree left-hander. I warned the student to lean back a bit, as I was going to give a braking exhibition--which I did, shedding a good 40 mph for the bend. I suspect that the student, a reentry rider and a flatlander, had never before experienced such hard braking for a corner; I know that for me it was a singularly eye opening moment.

     As we returned to the picnic grove where the rest of our group was relaxing, I formatted the syllabic substance of my awakening: Late braking demands an early commitment.

     I know, it doesn't sound so brilliant, but I felt like I'd tripped the floodlights on Plato's Cave, though as philosophical metaphors go "Buridan's Ass"--the pathetic beast which starved to death, unable to choose between two equidistant bundles of hay--would be more fitting. No longer would I be an ass, unable to choose. "Brakes? Perhaps..." would become "Brakes-Yes!" or "Brakes-No!" and would do so at the exit of the preceding bend.

     A couple of distinctions must be made. One--"late braking," as executed by accomplished racers or experienced road riders on familiar routes, is part of a complete corner strategy--in no way related to the last second stab which street riders often make when they've suddenly realized that a corner is sharper than they'd imagined. Two--when I say "Brakes-No!" I'm not suggesting that riders disregard their survival instincts and just "dive in." What I'm saying is that once riders have made an early decision not to brake, they can take their time and "sneak up" on a turn; what Ienatsch refers (not sympathetically) to as "...deciding very early in the corner what speed they need." It's a pacifist's approach to sport riding. Its practitioners sometimes enjoy corner exit speeds rivaling those of their rotor melting brethren, but they refuse to be goaded into battle with their sight line.

     "Brakes-Yes!" comes with a tacit manifesto: You must actually know how to use your brakes. I'm not being flip. The median pre-crash speed identified in the Hurt Report was between 25 and 30 mph. MSF's Experienced Rider Course (ERC) will give you controlled stopping practice at 25 mph, so if you matriculate to the local K-Mart for half an hour per week, by the end of the season, you'll be ace on the most important of accident avoidance skills.

     Great for intersections (where most collisions take place), but the number of back road corners that call for hard braking from 25-30 mph is a percentage of zero. The number which call for even modest braking at that speed is nearly as slim. Street riders often ask me what they'll get from a track school, and this is the answer: brake modulation practice. You may hit 130 mph, depending your equipment and your cojones, but you will brake hard and often from speeds of 60 mph and above. Guaranteed.

     Most tracks deploy braking markers on the back ends of the straight-aways to help racers gauge their initiation points. Unfortunately, most street riders--and I've worked with thousands of them--can't judge their stopping distances at speeds over 30 mph. If you painted a line on a runway and asked 100 riders to stabilize their speeds at 60 mph, delay their braking as late as they dare and then stop right at the line, you'd get a real mishmash of results. Some would start twice as soon as they had to, while others would sail past the line. Many would lock their back brake ...or worse.

     Now I'll tell you something. I'm not God's gift to motorcycling. I couldn't scuff Nick Ienatsch's knee sliders with a Sears Craftsman orbital sander. But I'll bet I could come reasonably close to matching his best 60 mph stops for distance and accuracy. You could too, if you practiced as much as I do.

     The other thing that most street riders lack -- but would develop with enough track practice -- is a smooth throttle/brake/throttle transition. I'm often appalled to see how many experienced riders simply grab at the front brake lever and then just let go when they're done with it--no sense of "touch." MSF courses--novice or experienced--can't help much here. Just rolling the throttle on and off at 25 mph is a challenge to one's parking lot smoothness. If you want to develop velvety transitions but don't want to pay track fees, then find yourself a deserted section of highway where you can make five to seven second brake applications.

     Back to the two strategies. "The Brakes-No!" approach demands that one keep the visual point (in a blind turn, the confluence of features verging the left and right sides of the road) at a comfortable distance: roll off the throttle as soon as the visual point grows nearer; roll-on as it recedes. The "Brakes-Yes!" guy also keeps the visual point at a comfortable distance, but he doesn't mind holding the throttle open as the scenery rushes toward him; "comfort" for him means being able to stop short of it--even in a curve. The result, therefore, can be trail braking--i.e. hard braking on the straightaway, lighter pressure as the bike bends into the corner ...a smooth transition back into the throttle for the drive out.

     I'm not sure my nerves would ever permit me to take responsibility for strange riders who dive into blind, wooded turns with their binders on. Someday--who knows? I may stumble onto a breakthrough training method which universally empowers riders to perfect their braking in mere hours. Then maybe we'll see riders braking to set up for a high percentage of corners. Until then, I think we'll be sneaking up on the majority of them. The crucible is the level of speed one is willing to carry down the straightaway.

     So don't be an ass, unable to make a choice. If you want braking to be part of your cornering repertoire, learn to brake well and start looking for your initiation point as soon as you depart the previous bend. If you want to rely on engine braking, you should still learn how to brake well, but your attention, coming out of corner A has to be focused on conserving your margin of reserve for corner B.

     And folks, I believe I've now told you what I've told you.