Back to School
This week has been very different from a 'normal' week, even by my standards. I've been back to school. Not a normal school, but one of a type I last went to in November 1990. When I was taught how to ride a motorcycle. Only this week, I've been learning how to teach other people how to ride motorcycles, or more accurately, how to conduct "Compulsory Basic Training". Yes, I've started preparing for my new life when I finally escape the clutches of corporate existence and do something I enjoy. I'm starting the process of becoming a qualified Motorcycle Instructor!
What this entails is fairly complex and is tied in to the way that the motorcycle licence system works. Put simply, before anyone can ride a motorcycle on the road, even with L-plates, they need to complete a course of "Compulsory Basic Training" (or CBT) and achieve a suitable standard, after which they are issued with a CBT-Certificate (DL196) that validates the provisional entitlement on their licence and allows them to ride a 125cc bike on L-Plates unaccompanied. They can then work towards passing their motorcycle test. That bit gets more complex if you're over 21, as then you can take the test on a "big bike" (over 46.6bhp) under the "Direct Access Scheme" (DAS) and ride a bike of any size/power, as opposed to taking it on a lower-spec bike and being restricted to 33bhp for 2 years.
In order for someone to be able to teach you to ride, they need to be qualified and licenced to do so. This is where my training comes in. First, you can train with a single school (or "Authorised Training Body") and when they are happy with you they can apply for a licence for you allowing you to teach CBT at their school (so called "Down Trained").Or you attend an assessment at the Driving Standards Agency (DSA) centre in Cardington near Bristol which if you pass you will become licenced to teach CBTs and also train other instructors (and you can then open your own school). The latter is the route I'm going down, as it will allow me to train at several schools as and when it fits in with my hectic schedule, as well as covering me for when we buy the smallholding and move out of the area.
And so it was that on Monday I rode over to West Pennine Motorcycle Motorcycle Training in Darwin near Blackburn on a cold and blustery morning to begin a week's training. They had kindly sent me copies of various DSA publications including the latest Highway Code (which I'd read several times preparing for my RoSPA test last year), the Official Guide to Learning to Ride (which outlines the licencing requirements and structure of the CBT) and the Official DSA Guide to Riding (which I've not actually read....) as well as a CD with practice Theory and Hazard Perception tests on (which is great fun, but infuriating when I don't get 100% on each test!). I thought I was pretty well prepared, but I hadn't anticipated the format the "training" was going to take...
It started with us (there were 2 of us sitting the training, myself and a guy called John who turned up on a Hayabusa!) being introduced to Steve, our trainer. He ran us through the requirements of becoming qualified and then outlined how the course would work Basically, he would run it as though we were on the 2-day Cardington Assessment, with him playing the role of the assessor and us playing the role of potential instructors (one instructing, the other supervising as at Cardington you have to pass as both). It proved to be a very uncomfortable way to learn. For each lesson, we'd be given our roles (instructor or supervisor) and then Steve would drop into his role-play in the same way the Cardington assessor would - pretending that he was a guy who only rode a bicycle, had never ridden a bike or driven a car. After each lesson the supervisor would be asked for his views and then Steve would drop into his assessor persona and tell us we'd failed. And then what we'd missed or done wrong. Rarely did we "pass", despite preparing as much as we could. As an example, at the start of the 2nd day, I was given the "Equipment and Clothing" lesson, where the instructor covers... well... clothing (there's a separate Helmet lesson). I'd prepped the night before and was feeling fairly confident. After 30 minutes of questioning Steve about the clothing he wore on his bicycle and drawing out the differences he needed to consider for motorcycle clothing, I drew the lesson to a close, feeling pretty smug. I'd done what I considered was a good job. Only I'd not mentioned that wearing tee-shirts and shorts was a no-no. Which is in the "bible" (the "Learning to Ride" book). And so needs to be covered. Damn...
Tuesday was spent covering Elements A and B which are classroom and bike-familiarisation lessons and don't actually cover riding the bike, and all the lessons followed the pattern above. It was a stark reminder that despite having been riding for 20 years and having passed both the IAM and RoSPA Advanced Tests (and ridden from Alaska to Argentina) I was still a novice when it came to teaching CBT. And this is what I want to do to earn money in the future...
Things improved immeasurably on Wednesday, when we actually had someone who wanted to do their CBT and Steve could demonstrate how it should be done. Young Matt (18) is a chef at a pub near Clitheroe (The Red Pump Inn) and had been given an old KH100 by a friend (the bike being a full year older than he was!). We watched with great interest as Steve took him through the lessons we'd covered the day before, and double-checked he didn't miss anything, using the chance to ask questions and make notes of some of the techniques he used to get his points across. When it came to Element C, which is the Practical on-site Riding which involves a series of manoeuvres in the car-park, it was fascinating to see how Steve gradually took Matt from being unable to balance properly right through to doing confident emergency-stops and u-turns. With Matt exhibiting good control we covered Element D (preparing for going out onto the road) very quickly as time was running out, and then kitted up with radios before heading out onto the road. With John and me riding at the back but able to hear what Steve was saying, Matt turned left out of the training centre and into the traffic and immediately seemed to lose all confidence. It was terrifying watching him wobble along the road with cars trying to overtake - the only thing that was keeping him safe was Steve's constant instruction through the radio telling him exactly what to do. Talk about real responsibility...
After a couple of hours riding Matt was much more together and doing reasonably well when we arrived back at the training centre. Just before the centre is a mini-roundabout and on the approach there was a red car emerging from the housing estate to the right, which seemed to come to a stop before the roundabout. Matt went straight on, just as the car also went round the roundabout, completely failing to give-way. Fortunately he was lucky and got away with it, but it shook him up a bit. Matt realised immediately what he'd done wrong (failing to give-way) and back at the centre was crest-fallen as he thought he'd not get his certificate. John and I chatted about what we'd do, neither of us happy that we'd sign him off to ride on his own given that mistake. Steve chatted to Matt and made sure that he was happy that Matt had realised his mistake and so learnt from it. He then issued him with his certificate and explained to us that it had been borderline, and he'd only issued it because Matt had immediately recognised his mistake and was convinced he'd not make the same mistake again. Deciding on when to issue the certificate and when not to (i.e. when further training is necessary) is a fine balancing act, as it carries huge responsibility (once they have the certificate, they can ride on their own on a 125cc bike on L-plates with no supervision at all).
Now we'd seen for ourselves what the process of CBT is really all about and what responsibility the instructor carries, it was evident why the Cardington Assessment is so serious. Once qualified, not only can you issue certificates that unleash novice riders onto our busy roads, but you can also train and request licences for others to do so within your own training school.
Thursday and Friday continued in the same vein as Monday and Tuesday, but this time without John. We don't know why, but he phoned to say he wouldn't be completing the course. Perhaps the realisation of the responsibility he would carry as an instructor was too much. Perhaps it was just that we hadn't actually ridden our bikes much. Perhaps it was something else entirely. Whatever the reason, it meant I got to play instructor to Steve's gormless bicycle-riding trainee as we ran through Elements C, D and finally E. I got to teach him to ride as he played at not knowing. I did OK, and learnt some valuable lessons from my mistakes (and I made a good few). I also got to practice giving instruction through the radio as he played dumb out on the road. Which required every ounce of concentration and effort I could muster, trying to watch what he was doing, correct his mistakes, keep him safe and all the time keeping my eye on the road and managing my own riding. But it was exhilerating and enjoyable and felt very real.
At the end of the week, Steve said that he felt I'd done very well, and he was confident that I'd learnt enough to get through the Cardington Assessment if I took what I'd learnt away and prepared properly. Which is what I'm going to do. I've sent off an application form for an assessment date, which won't be for a couple of months yet. In the meantime, I'm preparing my own training notes and thinking about what I've learnt every time I'm out on the road, whether in the car or on the bike. I'm also trying not to bore Tracy with it all... and no-doubt failing miserably
