First of all, let me say that this is the most fun you can have while remaining vertical; and fortunately, I did remain reasonably close to vertical throughout the weekend. This is a Good Thing (except when turning). We started out Friday night with introductions and a three-hour classroom session. Our instructors are local guys, from Danville and Lynchburg. Dennis is in his thirties, about 6-2, 220 lbs, manly-man appearance. A little formal in his lecturing style, but very considerate on the driving range and quick to provide accurate feedback and the occasional attaboy. A Real Nice Guy overall. Drives a 1000cc Suzuki standard of unknown make/model. Owns his own plumbing business to feed his motorcycling habits.

Mark is a gem - about 5'10, thin as a rail, with a bushy mane of blonde hair and a big scraggly beard about half-way to ZZ-Topdom. Early thirties, with a gentleman's Southern drawl and a gentle demeanor. Equally adept at giving a lecture or a lesson on the range. Rides a bright red Triumph Tiger that looks like it's been through a swamp lately. When I asked him if he took it off road, he comment "Ah kinda live off the road." In the Real World he is a full-time woodworker.

There are eleven students: nine men, two women; four Caucasian, seven African-American. I'm neither the youngest nor the oldest (er, maybe the second oldest . . .) Only one fellow has significant previous experience, and he's been driving without an "M" endorsement for two years since moving to VA from KY, so he's here to "get legal."

The Friday class session was not particularly interesting, as it just went over the student manual that I had already read at least twice. Several videos were shown that augmented the manual, and we went over the range exercises that we would be doing on Saturday. We were sent home with instructions to get a good night's sleep, and to show up ready to ride by 8AM.

Back to hotel. Eat. Sleep. Rise. Shower. Dress. Back to Danville. [Note: this was Race Weekend in Danville, the only hotel room available was in South Boston 45 min away. I live 2.5 hours away and am morning-challenged, so commuting was not an option.]

It is 64 degrees, and light fog shrouds the ground. I arrive early, in order to be fitted with helmet. Mark and Dennis are already there, prepping eleven motorcycles in the mist. The theme from "Top Gun" runs though my head as I hear the roar of the engines, the scream of the afterburners as the F-14 Tomcats are hurled from the flight deck by the steam cata . . . oops, back to reality. I choose a three-quarter helmet with clear visor. Gradually the rest of the class arrives (only one person showed up late).

My classmates are wearing various attire, from denim jackets to long-sleeved shirts to windbreakers. I'm wearing my new First Gear "Kilimanjaro" jacket. Let me digress a bit, here. As I am sure you all know, Mount Kilimanjaro rises 19,340 and one-half feet above sea level in the East African country of Tanzania. One would expect that the temperature and conditions at such a height would be Polar. Clearly, the makers of this jacket had this in mind when naming their merchandise. Another appropriate name for this jacket would have been "Finnish Sauna" or perhaps "Seventh Level of Dante's Hell." But enough about my one-step program to Losing Five Pounds of Needed Electrolytes, and back to our regular programming.

The range exercises begin. First, we learn to mount and dismount, and get the feel of our machines. I choose a Suzuki GN125 (number 8) to be my trusty steed throughout the weekend. Each student has his or her own bike. Most are Suzukis, with 2 or 3 Honda CB125's. Next, we learn to walk the bikes, both mounted and dismounted, and maneuver them around in tight quarters. Then we take turns pushing each other across the parking lot, with the rider coasting to a (theoretically) smooth stop at the other side. I find that motorcycle brakes are very effective. One of my classmates finds that running into the curb is an effective stopping mechanism as well.

Finally, we get to start our engines! Our next exercise consists of putting the bike in first gear and using the clutch to move forward a foot or so, then letting the bike rock back and repeating. The objective is to become comfortable with the "friction zone" where the clutch begins to engage. I notice that some of my fellow students are not comfortable with the clutch concept, and there is much stalling. I manage to only stall it once.

At last, the moment we've all been waiting for - moving forward under power! Sure, it's only from one side of the parking lot to the other, but it represents a spiritual journey of many light years for your correspondent, who really should be concentrating on his riding instead of waxing philosophical. The time is 9:21 AM as I reach the Other Side. I apply both brakes, pull in the clutch, come to a smooth stop, and put my left foot down first. I have arrived. I'm thinking "boy it's hot on the sunny side of the parking lot."

The rest of the morning is physically demanding. We learn how to turn around; how to ride in large ovals around the parking lot; how to ride in large circles and ovals both to the left and to the right, and in smaller circles and ovals as well. We learn about countersteering, where you have to push on the handle bars in the direction of your turn in order to lean the bike over in order to turn. We learn that a bike does NOT turn if you don't lean it at speed. For those of you reading this who have never ridden a motorcycle, consider that countersteering in effect causes you to turn the bike's front wheel to the left when you want to turn right, and vice-versa. This is counter-intuitive. We learn Fear and Doubt.

We put about 10 miles on the bikes this morning, breaking for lunch around Noon. I realize that my current attire will be the death of me if I continue on, as I have lost a good five pounds of electrolytes and am feeling light-headed. Luckily, I had brought a much-needed change of clothing. I then head into town in a quest for replacement fluids. Two apples, one large muffin, and a jereboam of GatorAde later, I'm back in the land of the living. My afternoon riding gear consists of a light, white windbreaker. Did I mention that Ol' Kilimanjaro is a dark gray?

In the afternoon, we learn about second gear. That's as far as we go, gear-wise, this weekend (I do manage to sneak it into third when they aren't looking). We learn about properly adjusting our speed before a turn, selecting the proper route through the turn, then rolling on the throttle for a smooth execution. I love this part. I don't quite care as much for the low-speed turns, where I try to balance the bike at 0.0001 mph while executing a 90-degree left or right while maintaining proper posture and remembering all 50 parts of this particular exercise. I also learn that my brain prefers to turn left over turning right; I have to work hard at right turns to become comfortable. No rational reason for this, but the instructors both tell me it's normal. I also have a nasty habit of treating the clutch as an on/off switch, instead of releasing it gently. My mind is telling me that a clutch is meant to be operated with my left foot.

We learn that the bike goes where you look. For example, if you look at that dead skunk or cinder block in the middle of the road, you will run over it. This is called "target fixation" and is to be avoided. I try this out on a few of the 4" cones used to mark lanes. I hit them.

We are drilled to look into our turn, and the bike will follow. On a particularly tight turn we must look back over our shoulders. When I do it properly, everything works. When I don't, it doesn't. These guys know what they're talking about, but my brain/body combination isn't cooperating to the fullest. This is a constant challenge throughout the weekend.

Riding ends at 3pm, and we're all exhausted. My thighs feel like I've been riding a Very Large Horse across the Arizona desert. There are muscles there that are clearly NOT exercised on a NordicTrack. The remaining two hours consists of more videos, discussion of street skills and advanced maneuvering and braking techniques, preparation for what we will encounter tomorrow, and the instructors trying to keep us awake. Class breaks, we bolt.

Back to hotel. SHOWER. Eat. Watch McGwire hit two HRs. Sleep. Rise. Dress. Pack. Check out. Back to Danville. This time wearing only a long-sleeved flannel shirt (and pants etc. of course).

Time to practice our Street Skills. First exercise is "gap selection." Meaning that we need to demonstrate the ability to properly adjust our speed and then accelerate through a gap in traffic. This is accomplished by having all 11 of us ride in a figure eight, so we are crossing each other's path in the center. The rider on the right always has the right-of-way.

Let me digress once more. Have you ever given thought as to how you would define the terms "left" and "right" without gestures, and without actually using the words "left" and "right?" Humans are bilaterally symmetrical, at least externally, so there is no good point of reference there. I suppose you could say, for example, that "left" is the side of a 1998 Lincoln Navigator where you would find the fuel filler but this would not provide a universal frame of reference. [Note: my dictionary describes Left as "pertaining to that side of the body which is toward the North when facing the rising sun" - how useful]. Suffice it to say there is a great deal of confusion about what constitutes "right" and "left" throughout the two days on the range. Nobody dies.

Now some cool stuff - controlling a rear wheel lockup and maximum braking. We accelerate toward the cones at 15-20mph, then tromp on the rear brake only. The rear wheel locks up and we must keep it locked until we come to a complete stop. The whooshing of skidding tires and smell of burning rubber is invigorating. One dude (the guy with experience) gets it up to 30 and manages to get the tire to screech just like in the movies.

We then learn to use both brakes to stop in the shortest time possible without skidding. Everyone does well, although takes me a couple of tries to avoid using the rear brake too heavily. I also keep forgetting to downshift to first gear while braking. Too many things to remember. Riding a bike in this course is like playing golf - all those things to remember: posture, keeping your eye on the ball, following through, foot position, etc. etc. to make your swing work. And then, when it all comes together, you hit the ball into the alligator-infested swamp. That's what it felt like trying to keep everything straight so you would get a thumbs-up or an "attaboy" from the watchful instructor rather than a lecture. My ration of Attaboys to Lectures was woeful indeed.

Our final exercises are swerving and weaving. In swerving, we accelerate straight for the instructor, who waits until the last minute to indicate if we should swerve left or right. I ask one of them if anyone had just gone straight ahead. "Yup. You learn to jump fast." This exercise is fun, and I do it well. My confidence is soaring. Fool.

Next is the weaving. Two rows of cones, one set ten feet apart and ten feet wide, the other three feet apart and three feet wide. We are to negotiate around these cones without touching them while in second gear. How humbling. The instructor eventually pulled me aside and gave me some tips on applying pressure to my foot pegs to increase lean, and after that I was able to get through each side at least twice successfully.

We break early for lunch; being Sunday we want to beat the churchgoers to the eateries. As it turns out, nobody's in church - they're all at the NAPA 500 race in Martinsville, including the preachers. Danville is a ghost town.

As we gather in anticipation, the instructors show up with ominous-looking clip boards. Uh oh. It's time for The Evaluation. There are five tests:

First, we must weave through a line of cones, then applying both brakes, slow to a crawl, look through and negotiate a 90-degree left turn. We will lose points if we miss a cone, run over a cone, fail to slow using both brakes, fail to look through the turn, or go outside the lines during the turn. I'm about 8th in line. The butterflies begin - Test Anxiety has set in. I do not watch the others as they negotiate the test. My turn - I move into the cones and miss the last one. Damn! I remember to apply both brakes and look into my turn, but the bike says "no way" and I go over the line when accelerating out of the turn. Crap. Lost unknown points on that one, and I can't lose more than 20 overall!

Second - we must negotiate a 90-degree right turn. I tell my trusty #8 "you WILL obey me this time" and ace this one.

Third - we must approach a curve in second gear, slow using both brakes, look through the turn, and roll on the throttle to power through the turn. We lose points for not applying both brakes, not looking, or going too slowly. They are timing us with a stopwatch. I find out later that I went too slowly, and lost five points.

Fourth - we must accelerate to 12-18 mph in second gear. When our front wheel passes a cone, we must stop in the shortest possible distance while downshifting into first. They will measure our stopping distance. I stop well, but lose points when I forget to downshift. Arrrgh.

Final test - we must accelerate toward a pair of cones, where we must execute a swerve to the right into another lane of cones, undoing the swerve and then braking to a halt. I notice that the cones that indicate when the swerve is to start, and the swerve lane of cones, are much closer together than when we did the exercise. But I ace this one as well. Whew - I'm starting to think I might have passed.

After the riding test, we return to the class for a final session and video on drinking and riding (short summary: don't). We then take the written test. I receive 100% on this, and I believe that nobody got more than one or two wrong. After the tests are graded, Mark hands each of us a binder that will contain our course completion card if we passed both sections. With trepidation, I open my binder. There, to my delight, is my completion card, number M649605, signed by the instructor. Hoo-ray!

I talk to Mark about my riding score - I lost a total of sixteen points (out of an allowable 20), and he told me a number of things I should work on to improve - especially looking through my turns and making certain I am in first gear when I stop.

I thank both him and Dennis for their patience, forbearance, and good humor throughout the weekend. I wish Godspeed to my fellow classmates, and head for the open road. Crank up "Born to be Wild" on the CD and head back home, mission accomplished.

The main question going through my head - why did I wait until I was 44 to do this?

Monday: to the DMV, take the written test, present my completion card, and I'm street-legal (if not yet street-safe). Much practice ahead!

THE END (of the beginning)

 Steve