Motorcycle mythbusting! Riding on dirt makes you better on the road.

You think I'm joking, but this is still better throttle control than I have.

 Last Sunday I was lucky to finally cash in the gift voucher I had for one six hour lesson at a nearby dirt bike riding school. As the title suggests, I had long heard the advice that dirt riders make better road riders. As a kinda sucky road rider this naturally interested me.

The day got started at mid morning and after the required faffing around with gear and some introductions we got started on some actual course content. What followed was twenty minutes of torturous throttle control exercises with a 90cc Yamaha bike in which I learned that I have zero throttle control. Honestly, none. What so ever.

What followed was a battery of exercises that frankly made me question what I had been doing all this time. I was aware that dirt bikes constituted a different discipline of riding, but my definition of "different discipline" was significantly less radical than the reality. With no apparent idea of how to start, stop, balance on or turn a motorcycle I never the less plunged onward with the day, comforting myself with the illusion that, maybe, each time I tried I was sucking incrementally less.

I am completely sold on dirt bikes though. They are light, agile and very easy to maneuver. In contrast, my road bike feels stiff and generally uncooperative. Also, I cannot overstate how plush, comfortable and generally squishy-soft the suspension was. Not that that in anyway ablated the effect of the seat itself, which seemed to be upholstered in the skin of some kind of highly acidic, sandpaper crocodile. After two hours of "sliding" across the seat for cornering purposes, "sore" is only the beginning of the sensation I was feeling.

Sliding is a ball too, a gentle rain the night before had made the ground nice and soft. As such, my classmates and I took to it with gusto, sliding around with the gleeful abandon only people who won't have to repair either their bikes or the turf can muster.

All of this was facilitated by the fantastic instruction of the trainer. His emphasis on technique was outstandingly informative and each exercise built toward greater confidence on the bike and your own limits as a rider.

The crucial moment for me came at the end of the day. To end the day the class embarks on a short trail ride, including a descent of one very steep hill. When I say "steep hill" I mean that were I forced to traverse the incline on foot rappelling would have been my preferred option. "Fear of heights be damned" I thought to myself as I rode over the edge. For the first three quarters I was doing very well though, naturally. right up until the moment I thought to myself "I'm doing very well". With the bottom in sight I locked the rear brake and learned more about how willing I am to contort myself to remain upright in the following 90 seconds than I ever have before. When forced to choose between flapping about like a fool to stay up or using my face to slide down some rocks, I choose foolish flapping every time. What sensible gentleman would choose otherwise?

I'm a quick learner.

I never once "got the hang of it" and the sensation of perpetually being on the verge of disaster is exhilarating to say the least. It was, however, a hugely valuable experience for me and one that has vastly improved my ability as a road rider.

For me, this is a confirmed myth. Just five hours training has made all the difference to my riding and I'm already planning ways of affording to go back. If you are a road rider and you do think you could be better then you need to get out there and get dirty.