Anxiety oft underpins riding in one way or another. Motorcycles are either the protagonist or the antagonist—your bike can quell an anxiousness that’s been plaguing you for days or create fear in an instant. What is motorcycling but the build-up and cathartic release of nerves?
My problem is, regardless of where I’m at in my motorcycling journey, it’s never enough.
Learning the skill that once made me feel nervous, soon makes me excited, before turning me calm. It’s a progression I hope will never end, and one that’s led me to the track in preparation for my first racing season, hopeful that the folks behind California Superbike School (CSS) could send me in the right direction with their level one and two courses.
Nerves: check. Excitement: check. Calm: definitely no check because I know enough to know I have no idea what I’m doing, and my speed and lean angles are about to increase tremendously. I suppose many sports/hobbies reward you for taking on new, difficult challenges. But not many have the inherent danger of motorcycling, and I think that’s why few reward in the same way.
These were the thoughts swirling through my mind as I came to terms with the fact that I’d soon be piloting one of the fiercest superbikes in the world—a new BMW S1000RR—around the Streets of Willow Springs, to push myself to be better.
My mind was doing a highside just trying to imagine the things that might be on the course—the physical ways I’d need to contort my body—and dreading the technical analysis of it all. How far from reality my imagination was, though.
The course was mainly filled with abstract concepts, ways of looking, seeing, and thinking—even saying that makes it hard to wrap your head around what the course consists of. If I’d seen a list with the names of the lesson topics, I’d have been skeptical as to whether I’d improve much at all—once again, I have no shame in telling you how wrong I would’ve been.
Between my fastest lap in the first session on day one and my fastest lap in the last season on day two, there was a 20-second improvement. Anyone who knows anything about track riding can appreciate that “impressive” doesn’t begin to describe those gains. And all the progression, between eight lessons, came without a hint of nervousness.
It wasn’t until I’d completed my final lap on day two and sat for a moment of quiet reflection that it occurred to me—there wasn’t a single moment that made me anxious. How the folks at the CSS managed that is a testament to their finely honed system, which they’ve spent decades refining to build riders who are, as I’ve coined, Fundamentally Fast.
But let’s start at the beginning—getting lost in the desert.
Tranquility Meets Adrenaline
With sweat dripping from the liner of my helmet into my eye, I faced a dirt road. Actually, to call it that is unfair to dirt roads. I faced dirt.
I’d taken several wrong turns on my way to Willow Springs, but that didn’t even matter because the address I should’ve entered was Streets of Willow Springs, not Willow Springs. And, of course, I had no data. I was frantic and frazzled, riding a fully loaded Honda Transalp, looking for signs of the track.
After accidentally testing the Transalp’s off-road prowess and meeting a friendly stranger, I arrived at CSS’s setup.
Here, my Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas-style state was starkly contrasted by a calm classroom, a teacher speaking kindly, directly, and softly, and an abundance of every nourishing health good I could dream of. Safe at last.
After apologizing profusely to everyone I could see for arriving late, I settled into my first classroom lesson.
Fundamentally Fast
The ambiance was perfectly calm, but I again became nervous as I took out my pen and notebook. I felt like I was back in school, and worried about keeping up with what I was sure would be an overwhelming amount of new information.
For me, the information was both new and old, but never overwhelming.
Throttle control is exactly as it sounds, and the folks at the CSS made the concept of why it’s important ridiculously simple. Once we all appreciated the reason for its utmost importance, we were taught the theory of applying the throttle and given tools we could refer back to while on track. For example: don’t add throttle until you’re finished increasing your lean angle and have chosen your exit line.
But metaphors teach me a lot more than hard and fast rules.
“Eat what you cooked” is the metaphor that had the most profound impact on me. It stayed with me long after my time at CSS was finished and helped tidy up my riding on and off track. Essentially, if you enter a corner at a speed, that’s the speed you take the corner at. Don’t try to increase your speed if you realize you could’ve taken it faster, which would result in you reopening and reclosing the throttle again mid-corner. Just eat what you cooked.
It’s safe to say that, from the get-go, the lessons were completely different from what I’d imagined. I envisioned super-technical instructions about millimeter-perfect foot and body positioning, holding the grip correctly, and how to move all over the bike to give maximum grip. Talk about putting the horse before the cart, I didn’t even know how to apply the throttle correctly.
Level one and two at CSS teaches you the foundations of being fast on a motorcycle around a track.
As the day progressed, the concepts we learned became more abstract, specifically about ways of looking at and seeing the track. Honestly, I didn’t understand how these concepts could make me faster, and I didn’t know if they were working because you’re not given your lap times during the course, only once it’s finished. Now I understand that’s absolutely the right way to do it—It keeps you focused on the lessons at hand.
One of these lessons is called "Wide View", and it was essentially about being more aware of what was in your peripheral vision and not being so fixated on one point ahead of you. “What a load of nonsense this has to be”, I thought, as I tried to understand the concept of having a more open vision. Again, I’m not ashamed to admit how completely wrong I was. Wide View was probably the single most helpful thing I learned, but only because of the lessons that preceded and followed it.
The instructors have been doing this for so long that, even when you think an exercise sounds ludicrous, I can guarantee it’s absolutely going to benefit you.
Struggling over one particularly abstract concept, I approached an instructor without even fully knowing how to explain my problem. I was sure that he wouldn’t understand the problem even if I could verbalize it, and secondly, he probably couldn’t really help me on a personal level and would revert to a generic answer.
“No one could possibly understand this particular, individual problem I have. I don’t even get it”, I thought.
The instructor did their best to let me try to figure out my question before kindly telling me exactly what my question was and following it up with an answer that made me feel like I understood the whole situation on an almost philosophical level. These guys know the answers to your questions before you’ve even asked them.
And that’s when I realized it.
The instructors at the CSS have cumulatively encountered more questions than I could ever think of. And not only can they answer them, they answer them in a way that’s specific to you. The instructors meet you where you’re at. These folks aren’t just excellent riders, they’re dedicated to their craft as teachers—Something you find out very quickly.
You might have noticed my skepticism throughout this piece, and I put that down to years of being underwhelmed by courses and services. Like someone who’d been burned one too many times, it took a while for me to lose my skepticism at CSS, but I did. These guys continually exceeded my expectations in every area.
As easy as the instructors make things to understand, it still took me nearly two monthsto process everything that I learned, or everything “I gained” feels more appropriate to say.
The Gains
Above all else, at my core, I’m foundationally a better motorcyclist because of CSS. This is true on the street, where my newfound smoother riding style makes me feel like I generally have more time to make decisions on the road, and thus, I feel safer. But it’s on the track that the things I learned show the most worth.
On a basic level, I understand how to navigate a race track now. Sure, I could make guesses before, based on my rudimentary understanding of how to get from A to B quickly, but now I have a system. I have a system to link every corner on any track I encounter. A system to change what I may have gotten wrong on my first attempt at reading the track. And a system to incrementally improve my markers until I reach the limit of my capabilities.
But more than anything, CSS taught me that sometimes people are just right. So annoyingly right.
As much as you want the full titanium system, power commander, tune, slicks, and full Öhlins setup, none of it will improve your lap times as much as taking a 2-day CSS course. I got 20 seconds faster for $3,000, and I get to keep the knowledge I gained and build upon it. Your slicks won’t last a weekend.
Knowing what I know now, I’d feel silly spending my money on tires and other parts without first going to CSS levels one and two. After that, you’ll already have convinced yourself to save up for three and four before upgrading your bike, and you’ll be Fundamentally Fast.
