Mentoring

Mentoring is one of those buzz-words that we have adopted in the past few years. It is also something that has been going on forever. Back in the "good old days" if you wanted to learn something, you found someone who was doing it and just hung around, asking questions and generally getting in the way until one of them took pity on you and showed you the ropes.

This is the way I learned pretty much everything that I know. Sometimes I learned the right way and sometimes I was almost killed by some bad advice or teaching. The lessons that stuck, though, were those that gave good advice followed by an "ahhh shit" moment when trying to implement the lesson.

One of those lessons can be summed up quite succinctly with the following statement. " Always park your motorcycle facing uphill." It sounds easy enough and even makes total sense from a physics point of view. Most of us understand that the kickstand rotates from back to front to a predetermined stop and it stands to reason that if the kickstand is down and the bike moves forward the stand will rotate back to the folded position and the bike will fall down. Simple, isn't it? But, there are always those who don't quite grasp that concept.

I met one of those guys a few days ago. My employer provides parking for about 20 bikes. The lot is on a slight slope. It is simple enough to pull forward into a space and be left with the bike facing uphill. Snap down the kickstand, leave the bike in gear, and the bike rests securely on three points of contact with the ground.

A few days ago I watched a guy trying to back his bike into a parking spot. He grunted and groaned, feet slipping on the asphalt as he backed the 600 pound bike uphill into the parking spot. Of course I had to watch, I like to see a good crash. As I was taking my helmet off he finally got it positioned where he wanted it, put the kickstand down and dismounted, reaching up to unfasten the chinstrap on his helmet.

His bike began to inch downhill. I shouted, he turned to look at me, saw me pointing at his bike, looked back, saw it moving and tipping as the kickstand folded up. He grabbed for the bike but it was too late. The bike fell, taking him down with it. I ran over. Ok, I waddled over.

The bike had him pinned but not hurt. I grabbed the handlebars, squeezed the front brake lever and tipped the bike upright. He lay on the ground as I popped the shifter down putting the bike in gear and dropped the kickstand. I turned to help him up.

"Hey, don't put the bike in gear, man," he said as I helped him up.

"Why not," I asked ?

"It fucks up the transmission or something," he said as he brushed himself off, "They need to put a parking brake on these things".

"Um, ok, so why don't you park facing uphill, like everyone else", I asked ?

He looked at me with pity, "Because it is easier to back it uphill than downhill with one foot on the ground".

I had to ask, you know I did, this was getting better all the time. "Why would you only have the use of one foot when you backed downhill"?

He sighed with exaspiration, "Because you have to have one foot on the brake".

"Ohhhh," I said, thoughtfully, looking confused, "Can't you use the front brake and keep both feet on the ground"?

"Hell no!", giving me that look reserved for total morons, "You can't use the front brake in parking lots at walking speed, it makes you crash"!

I closed my mouth, looked perplexed for a minute, wrinkled my brow and said, "But, if you are backing up, doesn't that make your front brake your back brake"?

I could see I had him now, he was seriously thinking about that. But, when you hook a real fish, there is no fun in just yanking him into the boat, you have to play him a bit.

"You can make a parking brake, you know", I said with a straight face, "you can either use a wheel chock, or just wrap a rubber band around your front brake lever when you get parked like this. I think I have one of the big rubber bands on my bike".

I opened a saddle bag and took a rubber band off my rainsuit and gave it to him.
He wrapped it around and around the brake lever until the lever was squeezed tight, then popped the bike out of gear. It stayed parked and upright.

As we walked across the parking lot, my new best friend chattered on, telling me his life story as I smiled and thought to myself, "this mentoring crap is fun".