On my first proper day of riding I went from the Melbourne to the Mornington Peninsula, taking the longest route of course as I can’t really go on any roads with a speed limit over 80kph.
I try stay out of the way of other riders, due to my slow speed, and also because every time I indicate the bike beeps like a reversing truck which makes it a bit embarrassing at intersections.
Apart from a brief struggle between CT110 and Ducati for a few suburbs, trying to outdo each other at the traffic lights, I didn’t really see many bikes until my ride home when I found myself locked in with another Learner on a Honda.
I can’t keep up at top speed with anyone apart from scooters, so I tried to compensate for this by having lightning quick reflexes at the traffic lights and getting the jump on the other guy. My only hope was for him to get bogged down in traffic while I enjoyed my clean break, relying on lucky light changes that let me through but held him back.
We passed each other a few times, missed and made a few yellow lights, but finally ended up beside each other up the front of a red light.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d heard that some motorcyclists like to talk at the lights, but I wasn’t sure if he would would view our riding thus as a competition or if my crap bike and I were even included in the motorcyclist bracket at all.
Thank god he brought it up.
He’d clearly been in the scene a lot more than me, and he casually lifted up his visor with a wry grin that acknowledged our cheeky faux racing.
“Howzit gow-in?”
“Good, yeah really good. Um…”
I wasn’t sure how to keep it going, or what I was expected to say. Should I enquire about his day, family, emotional well being? I decided to play it safe with some bike talk.
“Is that a CB400?”
“Nah, a 250.”
Good, a question and answer, this felt like a pretty genuine motorcycle conversation.
I felt I’d established a bit of credibility, not only recognising that he was riding a Honda but almost guessing the model. The CB400 happens to be one of the few motorcycles I know, and not well enough it would seem.
I also felt good that as he said 250 he raised two fingers, which meant that he was confident enough that I’d understand the fact that two fingers represented the fact he was riding a 250cc motorcycle and wouldn’t be bemused by his lack of attempt to communicate the final 50cc’s with his fingers.
I decided to bring it home with some occer talk, to identify with with him and also to clarify that despite my tight jeans I was in fact heterosexual, as some guys get a big caught on things like that.
“..zit go alright?”
“Yeah she’s good, pretty safe too.”
Then the lights turned green and he shot off, leaving me wondering, was that my first real bike talk? Or was it all a ruse to distract me from my lightning quick starts, my one killer move? I never caught him again and I’ll never know.
Do you talk to other motorcyclists at traffic lights? What do you talk about??
