The Risk and the Ride

When the weather holds up, summertime brings lots of options for outdoor activities that are not as well-suited to the colder months. Motorcycling, for example. Here in New England, unless you’re a true die hard, once the evening frost comes and public works begins deploying salt spreaders onto the roadways, most motorcycles are tucked away under dust covers and on battery tenders until the next early spring starts to bloom.

I fell hard for motorcycling in my late twenties, and on a whim bought my first street bike, a Honda Interceptor 500 in red, white, and blue livery. On the advice of the salesperson – thankfully, he realized I had no idea what I was doing – I spent money on the best full-face helmet I could afford, immediately enrolled in a beginner rider course, earned my license, and spent most of my free time exploring as many twisty rural roads as my new motorcycle friends and I could find.

I have always loved the freedom of two wheels. I tirelessly rode my bicycle on every street in our small neighborhood, peddled fast and wheelied every speed bump I could find, conjuring as much Evel Knievel as a six-year-old tomboy possibly could.  

And, as a result, I learned about risk. Or, more fittingly, the outcomes part. I don’t think there was even such a thing as bicycle helmets back then, so risk mitigation wasn’t part of the planning process.  The bumps, bruises, rashed knees, bent wheel spokes, and scraped handlebars were just ordinary expectations from all this fun.

But, on a motorbike, the risk ante is upped quite a bit, the potential for severe outcomes exponentially higher. Responsible motorcyclists understand and acknowledge this, and respect it by choosing to operate within our limits. We plan for it, trying to anticipate in advance all the things that could go wrong and how likely and serious the risk might be.

For example, many of us swear by, and unfailingly adhere to, the philosophy ATGATT: all the gear, all the time. Well-rated helmet, full-fingered gloves, durable armored clothing, over the ankle boots, ear plugs. Even in the summer’s stifling heat we “dress for the slide, not the ride,” because you never know what risky event disguised as an inattentive driver, deer crossing the road, or deep Massachusetts pothole is waiting for you just ahead.

Known to be so responsible and risk adverse when it comes to operating my motorcycle, I hold my passengers to the very same ATGATT standards, because you never know. So, when I exchanged my exotic Italian sportbike for a more pragmatic European sport touring motorcycle with all the bells and whistles – think heated seat and handgrips, luggage, GPS- I recently started to dream of taking long weekend road trips up and down the seaboard, maybe even into Nova Scotia and Upstate New York. But, what am I going to do with my Chihuahua x Rat Terrier Timmy? He’s going to miss me!

After extensive deliberation, Timmy is going on his first motorcycle ride. As careful and conscientious as I am, this has proven to be a very polarizing decision with my non motorcycle riding friends and family. On one side, “make sure to post Timmy’s rides on Instagram, he’s going to love it!” On the other side, “you cannot do this to your dog, it’s too dangerous!”

To be sure, the acclimation process will be slow and prolonged. The process of identifying and assessing all the possible risks out there, and the analysis to know what risk mitigation options I can use to keep him safe and comfortable will be never-ending. It’s a lot like what we do in project management. We must keep assessing everything around us, anticipate, and prepare, so that we can adequately protect our project. Or in this case, Timmy.

Timmy’s been diligently preparing, practicing sitting in his motorcycle-specific pet carrier and wearing his harness, safety goggles, and hearing protection. We have a few more months to see how Timmy’s first ride goes, and to see if he’s as smitten with two wheels as I am.