We had taken our bikes out on two rides before his wreck (Merced to Red Top for Draft Horse Days, and Merced to Modesto and then up to the Red Hills). Of course, being a newbie, every trip was full of lessons to be learned - some a little easier than others.
1) Hold on for dear life when passing and being passed by other vehicles.
Passing trucks and other large vehicles head on is scary because the wind blast feels like you are either going to be ripped off your bike, or you're going to take flight (bike and all) like the white feather in Forrest Gump. BUT, being passed by these large vehicles from behind because you're driving too slow is even worse! Not only do they leave a weird wind current behind them that sucks your bike in and tosses you all around the road, but its not quick like surviving a 5 second wind blast from an approaching big rig. When they pass you from behind, you're then stuck behind them for sometime before they put enough distance between you and release you from their gravity-defying air sucking treachery. And what was even more lovely about my adventure in learning this lesson was the fact that it was a garbage truck.....the only thing worse that having to smell that stench getting trapped in my helmet was the idea of having to smell puke all the way home if I let it make me lose my breakfast. Gag.
2) Know where you are going and never let one person be the sole holder of the map.
Yes, my husband failed as the navigator. I carefully wrote step-by-step directions from our home to our destination in large, easy to read print and I'll admit that I was impressed by his idea to tape them to his gas tank for easy access (even if he secured it with bright blue masking tape). But I was not impressed by his lack of navigational skills that resulted in me having to pass by a pack of wild rabid dogs TWICE because we'd missed a turn. Ok, maybe they were just a few ranch dogs that were most likely up to date on their shots and less interested in me than the roadkill they were eating. But they could have easily chased me, made me wreck and then ate me. It could happen. So next time, the directions will be taped to my gas tank - sans the blue tape.
3) Buy a camera that is easy to use with your gloves on. My Nikon D70 that my husband bought me for Christmas a few years ago satisfies this criteria, but since I don't get to hold it I've been trying to rely on my iPhone to take pictures while out on the road. If you've ever checked out his website (http://www.theironwolf.net/) you'll understand why I don't get to use my own camera - that man is a picture taking fool. So I've been using my iPhone but soon learned that taking off and putting on your riding gloves every time you want to take a picture is just a pain in the ass. So I went out and bought a little hardy Kodak digital camera with a simplified set of buttons that are big and easily used with gloves on. Highly recommended if you are like me and have but can't use your professional quality camera that was a gift but not actually intended for you to use.
4) When raging up a rocky trail and you're scared shitless, don't stop.
As we made our way through the Red Hills, I saw my husband start up a dirt trail that looked harmless enough, so I followed. Its not like he would try to take me up a trail that was too advanced for his wife on her third trip out. Right? WRONG. After I survived the white-knuckle ride and successfully reached the top, my husband was there waiting for a high-five but with an unsure look on his face that said "am I in trouble?" When I calmly asked him WTH he was thinking by taking me up there, he replied, "I didn't expect you to follow me., but you kicked ass!" Lesson learned - don't assume you're husband won't try to kill you by leading you up a death trap of rocks. The other lesson, and likely more useful to other riders, is that if you find yourself blazing up a steep and rough trail, don't stop - just keep a steady pace because there is such as thing as going too slow. It can actually make it harder. Its scary as hell when your bike is bouncing all over the damn trail with big rocks jutting out of the ground and making your front tire slide into little ruts, but its even scarier if you stop and have to try to get going again, or if your stuck in a lurch forward/stop pattern all the way up. Try to find a solid steady pace that is fast enough to smooth over some of the bumpiness but slow enough to save you from killing yourself should you launch yourself into a rock or decide to layover. In all seriousness, this little stretch of trail was absolutely brutal and the scariest experience on my bike thus far, but I was damn proud to reach the top without having 1) wrecked, 2) stopped, 3) cried.
As we made our way through the Red Hills, I saw my husband start up a dirt trail that looked harmless enough, so I followed. Its not like he would try to take me up a trail that was too advanced for his wife on her third trip out. Right? WRONG. After I survived the white-knuckle ride and successfully reached the top, my husband was there waiting for a high-five but with an unsure look on his face that said "am I in trouble?" When I calmly asked him WTH he was thinking by taking me up there, he replied, "I didn't expect you to follow me., but you kicked ass!" Lesson learned - don't assume you're husband won't try to kill you by leading you up a death trap of rocks. The other lesson, and likely more useful to other riders, is that if you find yourself blazing up a steep and rough trail, don't stop - just keep a steady pace because there is such as thing as going too slow. It can actually make it harder. Its scary as hell when your bike is bouncing all over the damn trail with big rocks jutting out of the ground and making your front tire slide into little ruts, but its even scarier if you stop and have to try to get going again, or if your stuck in a lurch forward/stop pattern all the way up. Try to find a solid steady pace that is fast enough to smooth over some of the bumpiness but slow enough to save you from killing yourself should you launch yourself into a rock or decide to layover. In all seriousness, this little stretch of trail was absolutely brutal and the scariest experience on my bike thus far, but I was damn proud to reach the top without having 1) wrecked, 2) stopped, 3) cried.
And then, I had to go back downhill.......