SGT. 1ST CLASS GRANT MARZOLF
Headquarters and Headquarters Company 101st Combat Aviation Brigade
Fort Campbell, Tennessee
It all started when I bought my first motorcycle. I’ll never forget that initial ride — the adrenaline, the vulnerability and the surreal sensation of moving so fast while feeling every bit of the road beneath me. Thoughts rushed through my head faster than the pavement under my feet. But even in the middle of all that excitement, I had to focus on the friction zone, shifting gears, turning left to go right. It was all new, and it demanded my complete attention.
I was instantly hooked. The combination of danger, skill and freedom was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. But being a new rider also meant I had a lot to learn. As the brigade safety noncommissioned officer (NCO), I quickly realized I was expected to lead by example, and when it came to motorcycle safety, I was behind the curve. I knew that the annual motorcycle mentorship ride was coming up soon, and I didn’t want to show up unprepared. More importantly, I didn’t want to be the weak link in a group ride where others might be relying on me to make safe decisions. So, I dove into research.
For the next few days, I watched YouTube videos every night: how to ride in groups, how to brake in a turn, how to avoid target fixation, how to scan the road ahead. I studied everything from safety gear reviews to slow-speed maneuvering. I even read articles and rider forums late into the night, hoping to absorb any tip that might help me ride smarter and safer. I wasn’t just doing it for myself; I knew that the better I became, the more I could contribute to others as a safety professional.
When Friday came, I was both nervous and excited. We started the day with classroom academics, which provided a solid foundation. We talked about the T-CLOCS inspection checklist (tires and wheels, controls, lights, oil, chassis and stands) and how each part plays a role in keeping a bike roadworthy. We discussed the route we’d be taking, which was about two hours out and two hours back, including rural highways and some twisty country roads.
Before we moved out to inspect the bikes in the parking lot, the mentorship leader asked everyone to share a safety tip with the group. One by one, the riders offered their advice — wear high-visibility clothing, scan 12 seconds ahead, keep your head on a swivel, turn your head to the side when it rains so water flies off your visor. I listened carefully, nodding along, realizing that even the most experienced riders still leaned on fundamentals. Then it was my turn. I hesitated. What could I possibly say that hadn’t already been said?
I opened my mouth and, almost without thinking, said, “Guys, remember, your shadow points to danger.” There was a brief pause. Nobody reacted much and we moved on. However, as we walked outside, the motorcycle mentor slowed down and pulled me aside. “Hey, man,” he said, “what do you mean by that? Your shadow points to danger?”I explained that when you’re riding and the sun is behind you, your shadow stretches out ahead. Wherever it’s pointing, that’s where you’re hidden in the glare of the sun. So, if your shadow’s pointing toward an intersection or a car waiting to pull out, there’s a good chance that the driver can’t see you at all. The longer your shadow, the more dangerous the situation because it means the sun is lower and visibility is worse.
He looked at me for a second and then nodded. “You know,” he said, “I’ve been riding motorcycles for 16 years and I’ve never heard that before. That’s a really good point." It might seem like a small thing, but that moment stuck with me. It reminded me that leadership isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about showing up, staying humble and being willing to contribute even when you feel inexperienced. As a new rider, I assumed I didn’t have much to offer. But a fresh perspective, even a simple one, can add value. Safety isn’t just about experience; it’s about awareness and staying open to learning.
Despite not having many miles under my belt, I felt like I earned my place in the group because I showed I cared enough to think, prepare and share. That’s the kind of leadership I hope to carry forward, whether I’m riding with my peers or mentoring the next new guy who just bought his first bike.