Where have all the good roads gone?

What makes a “good road”?

Let me backtrack. A while back some friends decided it had been too long since we’d all had a good ride together and started discussing destinations, routes, etc. Noting that their destinations were all a good distance away I commented that I wasn’t interested in much more than a 350 mile Saturday ride.

They were shocked.

In the past I’ve ridden with these same folks many times and for long distances. Perhaps the most remembered example was when we left Long Beach for Yosemite and started out by heading south to San Diego first. Great way to get someplace, head south to end up someplace north... We managed to turn what would have been a 240 mile freeway ride into roughly 700 miles in one day on almost entirely two lane highways. Great times... Still, that was a few years ago and I’m getting old and lazy. Amazing (at least apparently to some folks) I have a life beyond motorcycles.

Today though, they were shocked that I wasn’t interested in putting in a 500 plus mile day.

“But, Bill, you’ll be on your uber-tourer FJR, can’t you ride that thing like a thousand miles in one day and still be comfy?”

Probably, but that’s not the point. I simply didn’t want to spend an entire day riding. I wanted to go to an art show that afternoon, a certain restaurant that evening, etc... A life, remember? I suggested that we pick a more reasonable route, just a little closer, just a tad shorter.

“But Bill, all the good roads are further away.”

“What,” I asked? “Did they move them all?”

Of course they didn’t, but their definition of a “good road” and my definition of a “good road” are different. Years ago (for other reasons) I came to a personal epiphany; a realization that I needed to learn to enjoy whatever it was that I had rather than wish for whatever it was that I didn't have. My philosophy goes far beyond possessions, it encompasses everything in my life including my commute to work.

I know people with similar commutes to mine on various freeways through LA, and a common reaction to the commute is to hate it. Hate the other drivers, hate the wasted time, etc. I don't; it's pointless and a waste of my time to be upset about something that I have no control over. Instead, I've found how to enjoy the time I spend commuting. I enjoy splitting lanes, I enjoy riding my bikes even though I'm surrounded by cars and semis. I don't care, I'm on my bike and I enjoy exercising the skills it takes to move through the traffic quickly and safely. Yes, I have days where it gets to me and I dread the commute and on those days I get in my car, turn up the stereo and just follow the car in front of me... But, most times I enjoy the riding I get, regardless of whether it's a twisty, scenic back road, a weekend ride along PCH or the 5 freeway at 8am through the east LA interchange.

Yes, I suppose I’m weird. I can find enjoyment riding on a huge slab of concrete with 10,000 of my closest friends in close proximity. (Ok, so none of these other commuters are my friends, but you get the picture...) I’d love to be on some scenic, twisty two-lane backroad but that’s not going to happen today. Or tomorrow. But I am going to be on the LA freeway system tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that. I might as well enjoy it.

Is the Santa Ana freeway a “good road”? The 605? How about the 210? Perhaps the 91? Not sure I’d go quite that far, but they’re what I have and I’ll make the best of what I have.

You should see the lean angle I can get on the offramp I take to go home...

What's this all about?

So, you might ask, what is “Life in Half the Fast Lane”? Good question...

I live in Southern California, specifically in Los Alamitos. I work in Glendale. My kids (living with the Evil Ex) are in Yucaipa. For those of you unfamiliar with SoCal, these points are all over the map. Between commuting to work and going out to see my kids for dinner once a week I travel over 470 miles per week. That doesn’t include any weekend travel, nor does it include trips out and back every other week to pick my daughters up for the weekend and take them back out. (Since the Evil Ex won’t do any of the driving.)

Traveling over 500 miles per week on SoCal freeways is daunting. Traffic here sucks. My commute to work can easily take over an hour each way and the drive out to see my girls, (about 75 miles one way) can take over two hours.

So, as much as possible, I use my “alternate” means of travel: a motorcycle. California is the one state in the US where splitting lanes (legally known as “lane sharing”) is legal. Yes, those maniacs that you see screaming between cars on the freeways are doing so legally, though many motorists don’t seem to realize this.

Anyway, it’s what I call “life in half the fast lane”. It’s where I spend hours of my day every day, squeezed into half of the fast lane, splitting my way past thousands of cars.

So, why talk about it? Well, many people don’t understand why I’m willing to do it. (“That’s so dangerous, Bill!”) Perhaps I’ll be able to answer that to some degree. Also, I’ve been doing this for well over 14 years and in the last few years I’ve seen an amazing proliferation of stupidity on the part of other motorcyclists attempting to split lanes. Though I doubt any of them are willing to listen, I thought I might try and give them some advice. As you might imagine, after doing this myself for so long, and for so many miles (roughly 200,000 miles of riding in that time) I think I know how to do it pretty darn well. I’ve only been in one accident in that time and while I was on the freeway, I wasn’t splitting lanes at the time. In fact, had I been, I wouldn’t have been hit...

Life in Half the Fast Lane

What is it? A lot of my life...