PERMANENT LEARNING: RIDE TO LEARN, LEARN TO LIVE

We were riding from Igoumenitza (Greece) to Istanbul (Turkey) in a continuous ride of more than one thousand kilometres: the Egnatia motorway was merely a concept in the minds of European leaders, and the E90’s completion was still a dream for Turkish parliamentarians. Consequently, it was a gruelling trek across mostly mountain and “B” roads, with only brief stretches of easier riding near major cities.

On his BMW 1000GS and my Gold Wing 1500 SE, we rode non-stop from the first light of dawn until our arrival at the Mahmutbey exit. 

There, we pulled over to exchange farewells before our paths diverged. My riding companion then uttered something unexpected: “That was hard and good, a full twelve hours of pure riding. For the first time, I understood what it means to ride.“

“For the first time? What brought this on?” I inquired.

He explained, “Throughout that entire time, I was forced to apply, re-evaluate, and refine everything I thought I knew about motorcycling.”

Even two decades later, that experience remains, in my mind, a vivid testament to the importance of knowledge as the core virtue for any pilot.

Mastery in motorcycling—the kind that makes it genuinely enjoyable, worthwhile, and useful—stems from a continuous pursuit of knowledge. This means learning through dedicated training, extensive reading, thoughtful discussions, constant experimentation, and attentive riding.

Unfortunately, the “want it all, want it now” mentality, prevalent in academia and business, has seeped into the sport of motorcycling. Books, media, and blogs often suggest that a quick course, easy tests, meeting key performance indicators, or simply getting a license is all it takes to claim expertise in any field. Bookstores and libraries are overflowing with “be what you want to be” manuals, while online experts and teachers promise immediate and effortless proficiency in everything from off-road riding and foreign languages to portfolio management, self-medication, and even parachuting.

This can tempt us into believing that after an initial training period, or perhaps one, two, or three advanced riding courses, or even a few track sessions perfecting cornering, we’ve accumulated enough knowledge to ride a motorcycle competently for the rest of our lives. The dangerous assumption is that once a certificate is obtained, expertise becomes permanent.

Colonel Robert S. Mackie (army and bikers trainer) opened one of his articles with an imaginary conversation at a training centre for fighter pilots:

“So, you’ve finished your introductory training in the single-engine, prop-driven plane which you have only ever flown in perfect weather with perhaps a light breeze and the odd cumulus cloud drifting by maybe a hundred miles away?” “Yes, sir.” “Good. That means you know where all the controls are, and you know the difference between the wings and the propeller. Here’s the key to that F-16 sitting out on the flight line. Don’t look so worried. All the controls are in the same place — well, kind of. Take it easy at first; you’ll get used to the power after a while. This is part of the Air Force’s new cost-cutting training program… We figure being checked out in a light civilian aircraft is good enough, and it’ll save us billions. Happy flying!”

This humorous, even absurd, conversation highlights a critical flaw in “certification-based” training and curricula: their inherent limitations. It underscores the urgent need to transition towards a continuous learning model that integrates knowledge, practical application, experience, and feedback into one fluid program.

More profoundly, this scenario serves as a powerful invitation to a mindset shift. It reveals the essential role of applying virtues in every aspect of our lives, even something as seemingly straightforward as motorcycle riding. This calls for an educational approach that prioritizes personal growth as its ultimate objective, adapting to the evolving needs brought about by time, changing conditions, and accumulated experience.

Ultimately, we must acknowledge that no training or educational plan can yield meaningful results without significant meditated experience. This means countless hours spent in the saddle, consciously reflecting on personal knowledge and the consistent application of virtues, mile after mile.

We took inspiration from Robert S. Mackie’s “Rules of the Game” article to consider, once more, the importance of knowledge. “The truth (about training) is pretty obvious to those of us who’ve put in thousands of hours of blood, sweat, study, and pain to be good at what we do. Soldiers, pilots, ship drivers, whoever: we know the risk when we see it, and we know how hard someone has to work to get good at minimising risk and maximising results.”

Well-trained knowledge offers two invaluable gifts: minimizing risk and maximizing results. But perhaps the most desirable gift of all is the third: the pure joy and happiness found in motorcycling.

“Anything worth doing is worth doing well.” When approached with the right knowledge and thoughtful experience, motorcycling is incredibly fun. Without it, it’s a terrifying, even reckless, endeavor. The essential knowledge for safe and enjoyable riding boils down to three key areas:

• Knowledge of yourself: understanding your own abilities, limits, and reactions.
• Knowledge of your motorcycle: how it handles, reacts, and its mechanical condition.
• Knowledge of the environment: road conditions, obstacles, and the behavior of other road users.

This “knowledge” directly mirrors the risks we face on two wheels:

• Motorcycle risks: mechanical failures or poor maintenance.
• Road risks: obstacles, debris, and elements reducing traction.
• Other road user risks: the unpredictable and sometimes dangerous actions of people and animals.

So, why add the rider to this list of risks? Because if we’re not in control, how much fun can we truly have on the bike?

Embrace Permanent Learning

This is where permanent learning comes in. It’s a straightforward, self-designed training program tailored to your time, location, and skill level. Imagine committing to going out twice a month, alone or with a small group, to check the status of your knowledge. This isn’t just riding; it’s actively identifying areas for improvement, reinforcing strong points, and recognizing recurring errors. All you need is your bike and an “error counter.”

A permanent learning experience isn’t just about riding miles. For it to be truly effective, each ride must be:

• Measured and evaluated against a reliable system of riding. For instance, following the ROADCRAFT MANUAL system and understanding its content is crucial.
• Questioned: You need to ask why errors were made and why correct maneuvers were executed.

Place an error counter on your handlebar. If you make three errors, stop and think: “WHY?”

Through this self-questioning, it often becomes clear that the absence of a virtue or a virtue-related attitude is the core element preventing personal progress. 

Permanent learning helps us understand why we aren’t “perfect” and identifies the specific virtue we need to cultivate, improve, and adopt to excel. It really is that simple.

Simple but not easy. Simply logging hours on the saddle or riding long distances isn’t enough. Having a permanent learning plan and a self-training program—where experience is constantly examined, reflected upon, and discussed—is the only way to gain true awareness and accurate self-evaluation.

And the worst enemy is Complacency—the mistaken belief that you’re an expert—leads to mental stagnation, arrogance, poor attitudes, and misguided actions. Staying curious and committed to learning is key to a lifetime of safe and joyful riding.

The Director of the GWRRA Education program writes: “The only thing in life that is constant is change… but… we are a species that thrives on stability. We like to develop the same routine and maintain the same routes to and from work… we take some solace in this constancy. Yet, within this solace, there are inherent dangers.

Complacency can easily be disguised as solace and comfort. We reach a mental state that doesn’t prepare us for the change, for the unexpected… So, we must develop our process for continuous improvement and develop the capability to recognise, accept and embrace change. We must practice, focus and prepare ourselves continually. We need to be at the top of our game at all times… I can think of no scenario worse than riding at speed and being uncertain about handling a developing situation. Uncertainty is a liability. Adaptability and knowledge are the greatest assets we can develop… So, you may want to reflect on how you view continuous improvement. Do you feel that no aspect of your game needs work? Are you prepared and adaptable for all that you encounter?”