Who's that girl? Why we want to know

Who's that girl on the Royal Enfield?

 A Reddit post in India recently attracted a lot of ridicule. It was a post from a college student, writing admiringly of the motorcycling skills of a woman he regularly sees on a Royal Enfield Hunter 350.

Here's a bit of what he posted:

"Almost every weekday morning, while rushing to college, I end up seeing a girl on a Royal Enfield Hunter riding along the same route.

"First of all, massive respect. You’re genuinely one of the smoothest riders I’ve seen on Bangalore roads. Your lane discipline, confidence, and control are seriously impressive. There have been days when even experienced riders would struggle to keep up with your pace through traffic.

"I’ve thought about saying hi a few times, but you’re clearly on your commute and always seem to be in a hurry. Plus, stopping someone mid-ride or at a signal feels awkward and intrusive, so I never did.

"On the tiny chance you’re on Reddit and this sounds like you: hi! I’m the guy who probably ends up somewhere behind you most mornings on the same route."

Readers laughed at the writer for being either ridiculously shy, or a stalker. Just maybe, they suggested, he was more interested in her appearance than her riding skill.

One comment regretted that there is no emoji insulting enough to apply to the original writer.

Personally, I think he was wise to keep his distance. There's no way to meet gracefully in traffic, and following her to her destination is absolutely out.

But as for admiring from afar? I think that is just the way we are built.

A man who knew something about the importance of happiness once advised me to "look at the pretty girls." He meant that people are intended to be joyful.

But there are limits. One comment asked why the original writer would be surprised that a woman is a skilled motorcyclist. Fair point. Except I don't think that is the case he is making.

Women motorcyclists, aviators, and athletes will always attract attention. There are men who do these things just as well or better. Is that equal?

Yes, it is. On the other side of the coin, women who ride (or drive) poorly are criticized for it just as much as are men who ride badly.

The difference is that we are paying special attention to women. That's the issue.

It has come up for me because, here on this blog, I have done a number of items that ask, in effect, "Who's that girl?" Obviously, this betrays a special interest on my part.

Here's a partial list. Have I gone too far"

Who was the girl in the Royal Enfield ads? — A pretty girl appears in a series of patriotic wartime advertisements. I think I know who she is.

Wren on a motorcycle — The name of the young dispatch rider for the Admiralty was a military secret. Now we know her.

The Lady on the Lawn and Royal Enfield — Posing to advertise the 1931 Royal Enfields.

Racy Royal Enfield poster sold speed — A fast motorcycle with a young woman riding pillion, and she's not the least afraid.

More racy Royal Enfield artwork from 1930 — Now we know the name of the artist. But who was that woman?

The girl who launched a Royal Enfield — I got to meet the woman whose swimsuit pose on a Royal Enfield Interceptor inspired the Interceptor of today.

A Wild Irish Girl on a motorcycle — She's fictional, but certainly the definitive image of the damsel in flight on two wheels.

The sexy 'Avengers' motorcycle a rare Royal Enfield? — Actress Honor Blackman, in leathers, astride an unusual Royal Enfield.

One woman's story of riding for Britain in World War II — She told the BBC her story, but her daughter found the part they left out.

Girl in Royal Enfield ad revealed more than she knew — What was behind the young woman in short shorts draped across a Royal Enfield Interceptor?

Now we know the name of the Royal Enfield Girl — The woman in that Interceptor ad.

Gasoline gypsy Peggy Iris Thomas took A ride in the Sun — Applying lipstick in the rearview mirror of a motorcycle was always bound to attract attention.

Can you help him find a Flying Flea for his mother? — She rode one to high school; now a son wanted to make a memory come alive. I don't know if he ever succeeded.

She rides a Royal Enfield fit for Tank Girl — Seeking the Royal Enfield rider who goes by "Tank Girl."

Happy Valentines from the Enfield Girl — She's not just a cartoon. She was a real woman, painted by a noted artist who specialized in "calendar girls."

You always forget the simplest thing

You won't get far if you forget to turn on the tap.

 Back when I was a commuter, putting on 250 miles a week on my Royal Enfield Bullet, I figured that familiarity was my biggest enemy. 

The expectation that every ride would be the same would get me, I figured. There'd be a new pothole in the road, or the Bullet would think of some new mechanical quirk that would throw me off. 

Now that I'm retired, and ride only for leisure, complacency seems less of a threat. In fact, the problem that looms on every ride now is a lack of routine. 

The little things that used to be instinctive are now intrusive. 

For instance, I notice that I am counter steering in turns. Don't notice it! Just do it. It's the natural thing; it shouldn't be a distraction.

Why do I suddenly have to remember to keep pulling the Bullet's gearshift until the next gear is assuredly in place and the throttle coming on? One false neutral after another!

Is it some new discovery to me that the clutch lever is the way to control speed in a U-turn? No. I learned that long ago. Why have to concentrate on doing it now?

And, then, of course, the Bullet issues its own warnings. I stopped for gas this morning, something I hadn't had to do in months. I prided myself on remembering to turn off the gas tap while fueling, "for safety."

Unfortunately, I didn't remember to turn the tap back on when starting! The Bullet will start and run about a city block on the residual gas in the carburetor. But no farther.

I instantly recognized the problem when the motor first stumbled. Now seconds counted. Should I use my left hand to pull the clutch so that I could shift into neutral? Or should I risk putting my left hand down to turn on the tap?

With the motorcycle already stumbling, and in gear, there was a good chance it would stall completely and jerk to a stop. I didn't want my hands off the handlebars if that was going to happen.

So I let the motor quit and coasted, with the clutch pulled, up a curb cut. Not a smooth move, but not unsettling.

To my disgust, I then caught myself trying to kick the motor to life with the tap open, yes, but after mindlessly having hit the kill switch!

That didn't work.

And I should know better, without even having to think about it.

The instincts I partly feared as a practiced motorcyclist I now miss as an occasional motorcyclist.

The solution, I figure, is more riding.

'Around the World in 40 motorcycles'

Royal Enfield and author on the way to the Forbidden Kingdom.

 When author James McBride asked me to sample his book "Around The World in 40 Motorcycles, Life on Two Wheels," I expected to read a memoir. 

In other words, a thoughtful history of the deep meaning of an individual's life, told in the whispers of truth we share only with our therapists. 

And, yes, "40 Motorcycles" is a memoir of an interesting life; but the therapy is provided by motorcycling. 

This actually is a book about what it was like for him to ride some 40 different motorcycles in exotic environments ranging from dangerous curves to dangerous women, spiced with casual consideration of how machine and rider handled each occasion. 

Just as the title promises.

Deep soul searching is present, but mostly absent. Absent, too, is self-consciously great literature.

It's really 44 chapters of entertaining tales from the road McBride could have shared first with buddies in a pub.

In fact, the one regret that I have is that I waited until AFTER I had read the book before watching one of his entertaining, short, "Author Talks" videos.

I urge you to watch one, to realize he speaks with a delightful accent, perfect for a story told over a pint.

It's like being at the arm of an experienced rider with many an exciting tale to tell. It doesn't hurt that the author has an adventurous spirit, lived an active youth, joined the Royal Navy to learn to fly, and went on collecting stories as a pilot and respected airline captain.  

McBride keeps the chapters short, and never bogs down, a technique that keeps the reader on edge, waiting for the payoff.

For instance, here is McBride as a young man, riding pillion on a rainy night at high speed, and a lorry comes around the bend, crossing into their lane.

"At 80 mph, in the tranquil beauty of a Scottish dawn, I braced myself for impact."

And so does the reader.

But first...

Well, the reader knows the book isn't going to come to a crashing end on Page 47, so we know he must survive. But how?

That's revealed, on Page 60, in a single short paragraph. Oh... that!

The writing technique works. The book is a page-turner.

A British page-turner it is, and McBride makes that clear immediately:

"British English spelling is used throughout (apologies to our American cousins)."

No apologies necessary, although this instance gave me pause:

"I spoiled the ship for a ha'porth of paint by covering the tank with a couple of aerosols of British Leyland red."

(Here's where it would have been nice imagining it said in his speaking voice.)

Cambridge dictionary definition of "ha'porth" is a half-penny's worth of difference -- hardly any. In American, he's saying he had cheaped out on getting the tank done right, and his savings hadn't been worth a nickel.

Fresh, young, and too brave in the early chapters, McBride looks back on the bravado and admits "Of course I knew it all at 25. WHAT an asshole."

He's no asshole, but truth is he never seems to have lost his ambition to have fun. Whether he's on cliff's edge on two wheels, or a naval flyer in a Harrier jump jet, or trying to figure out what women really want, McBride keeps the story moving.

And the motorcycles are always there.

The cover shot is of McBride with a Royal Enfield, and Royal Enfields are central to two hair-raising chapters. But I also enjoyed learning about all the other bikes I probably never will ride

And every story ends with the specifications of the featured motorcycle.

One last little nibble to leave you with: one bike he finds discarded, restores at his own expense, enjoys riding, and then abandons, all set for the next finder, with the key in the ignition!

That's just how "40 Motorcycles" rolls. Watch this video for a taste of McBride:

A new kind of danger stalks the streets

An accident is about to happen here.

 A viral news clip of an e-bike rider being pulled from beneath a VW Beetle by people who rushed to help inspired RideApart managing editor Janet Jitchotvisut to hammer the news station, and local police, for blaming the e-bike rider for the accident. 

She wrote: 

"Watch this video the entire way through, and you're likely to get whiplash from how quickly the newscasters and the police start trash talking the e-bike rider, simply because she's riding an e-bike. They're quick to say the VW was making 'a legal right turn,' and then talk about how this e-bike rider just comes 'speeding up on the shoulder' before crashing into the car. 

"While it's true that the e-bike rider could have been more vigilant about their surroundings, shouldn't the VW driver have been, I don't know, using their side mirror to check that there was a cyclist or a pedestrian or anyone else to their right before executing that turn? Is using your mirrors just not a cool thing for drivers to do anymore?" 

I do not lack sympathy for the injured rider of the e-bike, but I disagree with Jitchotvisut, because I think she may have missed two important things.

First, the video shows the original Beetle has no right-side mirror.

More importantly, look at the speed at which the e-bike rider approaches to pass the Beetle on the right.

My point is that a new type of accident has become likely on our streets: fast moving electric two wheelers moving up on the right.

Here is how I responded, in a RideApart comment:

"To my eyes the clip was not as negative about e-bikes as I had expected. As a driver I now DO look back hard to the right when making right turns, because we've had these kind of accidents in our community.

"This IS something new.

"Yes, it could have been a pedal bicycle at extreme speed, but that isn't the sort of accident we're seeing. The e-bikes are FAST, faster in general than a bicycle that is doing anything except racing, which is rare.

"I know that legal definitions don't necessarily agree, but an e-bike, to me, IS a motor vehicle. Riders should be trained, tested, registered and insured, if required in their state. If required they ought to have helmets. And, for the sake of common sense, they should not be in shorts, T-shirt and flip flops as many are."

Do you blame that VW driver for not fitting a right-side mirror, required or not? Well, did you know that U.S. cars still are usually not required to have right-side mirrors (although new ones usually do)?

According to Car and Driver magazine:

"Federal regulations today require a rear-view and driver's side mirror, and a passenger mirror if the inside mirror does not meet specific field-of-view requirements. State regulations vary but most agree side mirrors are only required if the center mirror is obstructed. All agree that objects in mirror are closer than they appear."

Presumably, legal regulations lag the advent of this new kind of accident.

Cars should have those mirrors, and drivers should check them and drivers should look back hard to the right when turning right, to avoid this new danger.

E-bike riders can increase their own safety by being mindful of what motorcyclists already know: we are invisible to other drivers.