by Mallory

OMD Travelogue | Day 163

November 22, 2015 | Operation Moto Dog

First-day-nerves of yesterday gone, we take a seat. Settle in for a bit of classroom talk before heading out.

Looking around the room, I’m grateful to be a part of this group of women. Everyone has a varied level of experience, a different reason they wanted to learn trials, and story all their own. There’s the woman that has been checking bucket list items off left and right – rafting, skydiving and motorcycling. The gals who organize a ladies moto group in Nashville. The woman getting her confidence back after a motocross accident, the gal who just bought a vintage bike on a whim and so many more. With a common motorcycling purpose uniting us, the group melds easily. Full of encouragement and good vibes.

Charlie reviews material from yesterday. To keep our knees bent and our bodies relaxed. Instead of grabbing the tank, move feet out on the pegs and keep legs bowed to lower the center of gravity. Look through turns and keep your legs, back and neck in alignment to avoid over fatigue. Charlie’s been at this for years. Knows his stuff and clearly loves riding and teaching.

He scans the room, Any questions?

I pipe up, What’s on the docket today? I like to anticipate what’s coming.

Well, we’ll go down to the field and practice weaving and circling the cones again. Then we’ll do off cambers on the hill as well as going up and down a hill. Most weekends we also get to ride the riverbed and do a log crossing.

Log crossing? I don’t even really know what that means, but it sounds awesome, I respond.

Charlie laughs, I’m not sure that will happen today. It depends on the level of everyone and how it all moves along.

I stand up, Well, let’s get out there and power through so we can do cool log stuff.

Circling the sunlit field, I practice weaving by shifting weight. Bend my right knee, shift hips and shoulders, press the bike firmly into my left calf and circle the cones. Attempt to smooth it out looking farther and farther ahead. Cross the field one handed. It’s amazing how much improvement can happen after a single day of instruction and practice.

Just a short time I ago, I really had no idea what moto trials was. I’d never seen it in real life. Didn’t know there existed seatless motorcycles meant for extreme agility. Watching a competition video at lunch I’m awed. Riders take these light, torquey bikes up insane inclines, across boulder fields and jump straight up rock faces. Bounce, bounce, blip, brap, and bam they’re standing proudly on top of a giant boulder. With a vision of what’s possible, I’m eager to get back out there and practice.

Riding to the hill, we circle. Practice off cambers in the cold, midday sun. Counterintuitively keep weight on the downhill foot. Shift feet during the turn. When the time comes to ride down the rocky hill, I’m glad I have experience following pros down steep mountain bike inclines. Even with dirt in my teeth the downhill was a blast and this is basically the same principle. Weight back, take it easy on the brakes and go for it.

Feeling confident after a few mellow uphills, I look for a harder line. Bounce over more rocks. Over ambitiously twist the throttle and feel the bike zip out from under me. Still gripping the handlebars, the bike lies on it’s side as I quickly work to right it and carry on. Darryl laughs as I jump back on and smile, Your finger was right over the clutch, you just forgot to use it. I laugh, nod, circle back round to conquer the little hill.

Hill practice complete, they lead us into the forest to a dried creek bed. Waiting in line for my turn is the worst part of the entire training so far. Performance anxiety makes my stomach clench, my heart race. I try not to watch the girls in front of me. Just breathe calmly and let go of the worries about falling and failing. My turn come, I bounce right along. Stay loose and have no trouble running down the rocky path. Second go round, I get distracted when the rider ahead falls and come to a stop in the riverbed. Quickly learn just how difficult it is to get rolling again on a slanted, rock laden expanse.

Lying next to the log, I watch as the steps are explained. Compress front suspension, weight back, throttle blip and the front tire should be light. The steps are simple, make perfect sense. The reality of making my body do it isn’t quite as easy. The timing feels wonky. The throttle not enough. I ride around feeling rather uncoordinated and unsuccessful. Again and again. Until it happens. The front tire gets light and suddenly it all makes sense.

It’s amazing how many things in life aren’t comprehensible until the actual moment they become a reality. There’s much to be said for reading, studying and asking, but sometimes you just need the visceral experience. I wonder how many times I’ve given up on something too early. Decided I wasn’t good at it or capable, when really I just hadn’t failed enough to the point of success. I hope the next time I want to label something as impossible I remember how good it felt to put a few inches between me and the ground.

Dusk settling in, they call us over. Congratulates our successes and efforts. Tell us that class is officially done for the day, give a few offhand pointers on the log crossing we’ve been practicing. I raise my hand, Can I go practice that a few times now with the new information?

Charlie laughs, Sure. You’ve a bit more daylight left.

I circle round and round the log. Sometimes nailing the timing to effortlessly float over, sometimes getting it all wrong and just bumping along unceremoniously. Each mini success builds confidence, shows that with commitment anything is doable. Each failure teaches a lesson, proves that doing it wrong isn’t nearly as catastrophic as feared.

I circle on my own. Squeeze out the last of the day. Try, fail, learn, try, succeed. Repeat.

163 days down. Many to come.

OMD Travelogue | Day 169
OMD Travelogue | Day 158
About the author, Mallory

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Mallory lives off-grid at 8,000 feet in the mountains of Southern Colorado. When not wrangling her three young kids (4-years, 2-years, and 3-months old), she's busy maintaining a large cut-flower garden, baking sourdough, and working on a never-ending list of homestead projects with her husband Matt.

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