The right tool for the job

There's a saying that it's a poor craftsman who blames his tools. I absolutely agree, but if you know you're a novice, or otherwise lacking in the skills department, make sure you're using the right tool for the job.

I recently attempted a week long back country motorcycle trip. I've only been riding a few years, and the overwhelming majority of that has been on paved roads, so this was going to be a challenge. Mind you, a year ago I wouldn't have even considered this, but I'd done a little loose surface exploring and been bitten by the bug, so I took an Off Road training class. It was an entry level class designed specifically for folks like me, who knew how to operate a motorcycle on the street, but hadn't a clue what do with one in the loose stuff.

When embarking on any new endeavor, the first task is to gain a basic understanding of what you're trying to accomplish, the most common challenges, and some idea how to do what you've set about doing. So, maybe that's the first three tasks, but we're going to group them into one: be less clueless. In pursuit of this, they put on dirt bikes and told us to ride around a field in circles. Easy, right. That beat the hell out of me. Sure, I could mechanically tell the bike to go, to slow, to turn, but I was doing some of that, and everything else, completely wrong. I wont bore you with the details, but by the end of the class I was confident enough to try some more challenging terrain on my own bike, despite it not being a dirt bike.

After recovering from an unfortunate incident, and fixing the bike, I was ready to tackle the loose stuff again. The first opportunity to ride forest roads with friends popped up and I was all over it like a bear on honey. Skid plate: check. Crash bars: check. Tires: we'll come back to that. It was early in the season, so no one really knew how far we'd be able to ride. Between snow and blow-downs from the winter weather, odds were good we'd be turning back before the end of the line. There was mixed terrain, from deep fresh gravel to bumpy, rocky surfaces, to water filled potholes to play in. Splash! Yeehaw! Parts of the road were half blocked by partially cleared trees, but my training proved useful and I made it as far as anyone that day. Confidence boosted.

Another day, another opportunity. This one didn't start out as smoothly: I dropped the bike in the parking lot, standing still. Oh well, c'est la vie. The road we followed on this excursion was more challenging. There were washouts, some of them lined with soccer ball sized river rock, others filled with rain water. This was the most challenging terrain I'd ridden, and the bike was starting to show the absurdity of what I was asking of it. Between a sticky clutch and street tires that are marketed as 90/10 (90% street, 10% loose surface) I dumped the bike hard, twice, trying to cross washouts. I also managed other wash outs just fine, and where the humps in the road called for it, got her air born for the first time. Can you say fun? Yeeeeee-Haaaaaaaawww! But it was clear, I needed to sort the clutch and do something about the tires.

I should note, a member of our party road a cruiser nearly to the end of the trail, so with enough skill, you can drive a nail with toothpick, or clean your teeth with a hammer, though I would necessarily recommend either.

Then came this back country trip. I wasn't sure I was up for it, but I watched the videos from other's excursions and decided it was only just a bit way over my head, and I'd probably be fine. But the tires. I knew the tires wouldn't work, so it was time for a change.

New, more aggressive loose surface tires were installed, with a bit more street orientation in back than is ideal to avoid having to replace them too often (I still do a lot of street riding on this bike). It was time to to test them out, and get some more practice. I set out on the trail from the opening of the season and rode to the end just fine. Mind you, the snow was now gone, but this was the roughest terrain I'd ridden alone, and there were some nerves associated with this. The bike did fine, though the front suspension does bottom out every time I find a pot-hole with it. The bike was definitely not the right tool for the job, but it was the tool I had. I made a couple more preparatory runs, exploring new places, getting a feel for the bike and tires, and pushing myself. I was a ready as I was going to be, given the timeline.

Then came the trip. Most of it was pretty okay. Actually, the trip was fantastic, it was my handling of the terrain that was pretty okay. I broke the luggage system on the bike riding it like a dirt bike when it's really a street bike with luggage designed for the street. That issue was easily dealt with, though it did cramp my style and force extra effort. It was the rocky terrain that demonstrated the foolishness of my equipment choice. The wheels were too small and soft. They got bent out of shape, and though we were able to make a trail-side repair, the lesson was clear. I was definitely not using the right tool for the job. Up next was a rocky incline. I know, with the right bike, more experienced riders handle it just fine. I watched two of them do it, and it was my own failure that put another rider down. The terrain was just too much for a novice rider on the wrong bike. As in any endeavor, it takes time to learn how to do the easy stuff with the right tool, doing hard stuff with the wrong tool is sometimes, even if just barely, impossible. That was the case for me.

There were other circumstances involved as well, but muscling the wrong bike around with too little experience was the biggest trouble. It lead to mistakes which ultimate lead to failure. I only covered half the trail before I had to admit defeat. I count it a success, too, because I went way beyond my comfort zone, learned a tonne, and had a blast. But I learned my lesson. To do any job, you need a minimum capability derived from a combination of skill, experience, and tools. In any thing, if you want to move quickly you need the right tools. If you're okay being slow and deliberate, you can use the wrong tools, but you're going to need a lot more skill, and you're still likely to stumble.

It can be fun to use the wrong tool, but it can also be painful and expensive.