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Man can climb to the highest summits; but he cannot dwell there long.
- George Bernard Shaw -

ON A ROAD SUCH AS THIS, bone-weary settlers suffered in silence as they cautiously picked their way along the gnarled and treacherous trace, spun like a convoluted, recondite thread atop the arched and fearsome backbone of an indolent dragon. As prowling mites traversing the spine of a vicious, sleeping dog, they pressed on, the clatter of steel-shod, wood-spoked wheels and the clump of heavy hooves the only sounds to drift through the still and frigid air. On a road such as this, velocity on a motorcycle demands extreme concentration. Hundreds of razor-sharp turns are compressed into perhaps a dozen miles. Lines must be chosen with a precision measured in millimeters, not inches. Scores of minute control inputs—a slight touch of the front brake, a barely perceptible rotation of the throttle, a subtle shift of body weight—are required to quickly negotiate each unpredictable bend. These commands must be woven together in a seamless flow that dispatches the myriad hazards and challenges without abruptness, without hesitation.

On a road such as this, one can lose himself in the stark, unreal grandeur of nature. Stop for a moment along the narrow track and watch the vast shimmering expanse of pale blue sea, thousands of feet below and miles distant, its wind-whipped, glittering whorls shifting in an ever-changing interplay of cerulean fire. The rider is at once diminutive and omniscient; an intruder, yet anointed. Listen carefully to the tick and groan of contracting metal as the engine sighs its paean to the machine age—the technology that once, twice, and thrice removes us from the covered wagon and ox. Touch the slightly roughened surface of the tires, warm from their tryst with the road, and note with satisfaction their pliant resilience.

On a road such as this, one must intuitively understand the razor-thin margin for error that conditions impose upon the aggressive rider. To one side lurks a precipitous fall of hundreds of feet, with great jagged shards of stone jutting from the steep incline to rend man and machine. On the other waits the unknown: the sheer face of the mountain prevents precognition of errant travelers and wayward beasts. Between these bounds lies a slender strip of broken, potholed asphalt, its convolutions littered with gravel often camouflaged as pavement. Decisions must be made in milliseconds. A miscalculation leaves no room for error.

On a road such as this, conventional techniques of riding are discarded for unorthodox, advanced methods that would have a riding-school instructor cringing. The front and rear brakes are played against the throttle to maintain the composure of the chassis; both brakes are trailed deep into turns, the front released first to guard against the threat of unseen sand and stones. Countersteering is anathema here; one’s entire body must be brought into play to assure a swift and fluid transition of both man and machine. Some turns demand the widest of lines and latest of apexes, while others have bike and rider clinging to the side of the mountain lest a traveler who has chosen four wheels instead of two appears in the same time and space.

On a road such as this, one can find himself suddenly plunged into the most desperate of circumstances. Successful negotiation of this perilous track is the sum of tens of thousands of decisions, thousands of control inputs, and hundreds of directional changes. If done expertly, the result is pure rapture, resulting in the kind of delicious fatigue only achieved by concentrated effort coupled with superior skill.

Few riders attempt roads such as this. Even fewer return once they have had a sampling of such grueling and unforgiving fare. But for a select minority, the spoils are sublime and addicting, much like those realized by a beleaguered group of expert climbers when the summit of a particularly difficult mountain is reached: exhaustion, exhilaration, a profound feeling of accomplishment, and a sense of mastery over technology and terra firma. Whatever form they take, for a motorcyclist, these rewards can be found in abundance—on a road such as this.

tempest 於一月十三日提出這個問題。經徵詢本人同意，轉來討論。=)

2003.01.13

最近看了一些書和雜誌的文章, 和朋友出去騎車時紀錄了一些照片和動態影片
發覺自己騎車的不順暢主因還是來自於求生反應(survival reaction)

回想起剛開始騎車時, 最常遇到的兩個麻煩…. 第一個是目標鎖定(target fixation)
經常過度把注意力放在前方的目標, 而沒有正確把視線放在行進方向
比如說在前方車友出現失誤時也跟著差一點出包,
或者被對向聲勢驚人的大卡車搞得心驚肉跳

第二個是遇到路面不平整時, 對手把過度施力
比如說某次在彎中碰到人孔蓋造成龍頭晃動, 本來應該放鬆身體,
讓車身自行回復平衡狀態
但因為緊張想用力抓穩手把, 反而造成晃動的放大 反而更加危險!

K.C先生的Twist II提到: “求生反應是人體本能的反射動作,
其目地在於避免受到傷害 但結果通常適得其反”

當然有些問題可以透過機械的調教/加強來減緩, 比如說防甩頭(steering damper)或ABS
但是一般而言, 人為的失誤比車子所造成的問題更多!
記得在某避震器調教指南的網站也提到
“即使再好的避震系統, 也無法解決不當操控產生的問題”

前面舉的是我自己的例子, 在書中K.C也有談了很多其他的例子
就騎乘摩托車來講, 因為求生反應造成的問題一定還有很多
我想問的是, 如何試著學習控制恐懼? 或者是說, 如何避免求生反應造成的不當影響?

ps1. 這個問題如果post到news group上, 通常答案會是
去參加riding course或track days ps2. 就我自己而言, 恐懼和高速不一定有關, 比如下坡彎, 即使速度已經相當低,
求生反應依然相當明顯 -_- 故有此問

–
“習慣騎乘的方式”和”習慣心中的恐懼”是不同的
忽視恐懼的必要性, 反而會危及自己的安全
from “流行騎士”雜誌
–

因某新聞研究所友人欲寫性別與科技小論題，選到摩托車與女性，但此領域在國內資源，比沙漠狀態還慘。他遂在口傳之下，找上了我。下面一篇文章是我 2000 年時所寫的，也是提供這位友人的參考方向之一。

2000.03.13

把標題改掉了，因為我對於摩托運動的發展比較有興趣。剛好有網友提到，那就來個借題發揮，野人獻曝一番。 小弟認為，

『人文要素﹝註一﹞』在台灣摩托運動中之『不佔有地位﹝註二﹞』的現象，將會很深刻地影響到未來機車運動『整體覺醒﹝註三﹞』的過程當中，所可能或無可避免必須要面對的一些問題：

1) 摩托運動發展的向度為何？
2) 台灣摩托運動因地域因素而將面臨之發展先天瓶頸為何？如何發展出地域『特色』，要如何因應先天瓶頸？任由市場機制決定嗎？還是大家另有期許？

3) 社會主流價值會如何來定位摩托？
4) 社會主流價值會以哪些管道來擷取資訊，據之而定位摩托？
5) 摩托界如何開發新的管道以讓社會能夠更了解摩托？

6) 摩托界如何定位自己？
7) 摩托界如何與社會互動？ 摩托界對社會應有的責任？

9) 社會要如何給摩托應有的地位？
10) 摩托界如何說服社會給它應有的地位？

11) 摩托是文化嗎？文化的摩托在哪？
12) 台灣摩托的歷史？

13) 摩托的終極期許？

臨時想到的，很籠統，我也沒有很好的能力和可用的工具資源去討論細節。上面的十三個問題都必須加入所謂的『人文要素』才可能有比較漂亮的解，至少我是這樣子想的。

註一：人文要素是一種價值，可以運用在發展或是進行某一個件事的過程當中，來『滲入』這個事情的發展，最後進而影響到後續的進程或結果。

註二：不佔有地位的意思是，人文要素在排氣尚未解禁之時(當時為2000年, 現已解禁)，摩托界似乎沒有好好地運用這個利器來推動摩托運動。大多數的切入點為機械的，如改裝上：技術的，如操駕技巧上；觀念的，僅限於安駕與道路觀念；運動競技的，如舉辦相關賽事；運動欣賞的，如收視相關國外賽事。這些都很好，但是卻一直推廣不開來。給所謂外界的觀感和印象也似乎一直停留在某個層次。如果能加入『人文要素』，那影響層面將可以更深更廣，連上了年紀或廣大的女性車友都可以是極為龐大的運動母群。

註三：整體覺醒，就是說開始了解到：

1) 啊，瓜皮不是帽
2) 啊，車子可以做通勤外的事
3) 啊，摩托可以是運動
4) 啊，速克達不是摩托車
5) 啊，碼表是快樂的
6) 等等，請自行填入

算是Sammy Miller Museum參訪後的小小觀感吧？