JUST A GUY WHO RIDES

I’ll start by saying this: I am in no way, shape, or form a writer, just a guy who was asked to write about motorcycles.

I’ve been riding motorcycles since I was 21 years old. I learned how to ride, when in Athens, Texas, on a 1998 Suzuki Marauder. e bike belonged to a friend, Ethan. It was loud, black and had ape hangers that seemed touch the sky. I remember be ing scared to death that I was going to crash and be forced to pay for damages. Ape hang ers (high handlebars) can be incredibly intimidating when you’re starting out, and in timidated I was. Ethan o en le his bike at my house, and would insist that I practice, so I did. O en. I had brief les sons on riding and safety, the rest was self-taught. I only dropped it once, in the grass, and no one saw. It’s quite embarrassing when you drop one, trust me, I’ve dropped a few over the years.

I learned rather quickly that people are oblivious to motorcycles. As earlier mentioned, I learned in Athens. Not a large town, but a large population, I assume the community college attributes to that. Learning on city streets was scary. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was doing it. I rode through town, up and down US 175, SH 31, and SH 19. It was a month or so before I nally got the courage to go outside of the city limits.

I pulled out of the gas station, headed east on SH 31 toward Tyler. I remember telling myself that if I go 15 miles out, it’s 15 miles back home. Away I went, all the way to Chandler, about 25 miles. I wasn’t brave enough to go into Tyler, yet. I turned around in a parking lot and headed home. I made it, in one piece. I wore the an awkward helmet that was too big, and I was exhausted, but I was alive.

Fast forward two years, I moved back to Houston County, “Paradise in the Pines.”

I bought myself a small Yamaha. Feeling like a king, I drove that bike all over. It was too small, so eventually, I sold it. Come to think of it, I wonder where it ended up.

I went without a bike for a few years until my buddy was selling a Yamaha Roadstar Silver Edition, with a 1600cc engine. I was sure it would be the nicest bike I’d ever own. On a test ride with my best friend, we went to Nacogdoches for breakfast, continued on to Livingston, rode all around the lake, even hit a few farm-to-market roads along the way. Being back in the wind, on two wheels, was just what I needed. e following Saturday, I went into an ‘S’ curve too fast, straightened it out, and ended up in the ditch. I was sore, sad and, embarrassed. I didn’t own the bike yet, but I was about to. With my tail between tucked between my legs, I called my friend. I asked if the bike was still for sale, he said that it was, to which I replied, “Great … I’ll take it, in pieces.” e pretty black Yamaha sat in my friend’s garage for about six months. at was enough time to gather the courage to x it and ride again. We ordered everything we needed and got it back on the road, and this time, it was mine. I rode many miles on that motorcycle. And still, every time I got on, I noticed that people don’t look out for motorcyclists. ere are many dangers out there to look for: cars, pedestrians, animals, items or debris in the road. All of those things work against you, so you have to be on high alert at all times when on two wheels. e best thing to do is to learn to communicate with hand signals if you’re riding with a group. I ride with people who I’ve ridden with for many years. We can almost read each others minds when it comes to hazards to look out for.

Over the years, I have met cars merging into my lane from the side, nearly meeting head on while they’re passing another vehicle, and countless people who pull out in front of you.

Stopping isn’t easy because you have so many things working against you. Especially, if the ground has any moisture. e last thing you want is to go down because you’ve locked up your brakes to avoid hitting someone or getting hit yourself.

A helmet will be your best friend. Not any helmet, the right helmet. Many retailers work with you to get the best comfort, t, and style. Better to be protected than not. Anything can happen at any time. Always be prepared for the worst, but have fun still.

I thought buying a bigger, louder motorcycle would be an end to being scared on the road, but it wasn’t. My current bike is a 110th Anniversary Ultra Limited Harley — 892 pounds of American-made awesomeness. But the dangers are still there, not matter how big, loud or shiny you are, you have to stay diligent, watching everything around you. If they don’t see you, at least you can see them.

With spring approaching, motorcyclists will hit the road and, it’s every motorist’s job to be cautious of other motorists, including those on bikes.

Two on the ground. Always.

— Miguel A Benavides