Exploring life on a Vespa, Royal Enfield Himalayan, Honda Trail 125, and a Kawasaki W650
Drivable Trail signs make me a little nervous when I’m riding my Himalayan. Unless I’m certain of what’s ahead, and especially if I’m alone, I generally don’t ride on past those signs. That’s not the case with the Honda. I almost can’t conceive of a road or path that I won’t happily ride on. It’s a real confidence inspiring motorcycle. Great to have when your 72nd birthday is just around the corner.
Continue Reading
A fine marketing slogan that swept through the Moto-world a few years ago with the predictable declarations of freedom and escape. I don’t deny those things for they are certainly present, but there is something larger at work as I ride.
On the surface, I rolled the Kawasaki W650 motorcycle out the door to ride to breakfast. Alone, on a hot day, by myself. A simple act with nothing much on my mind as I pulled the choke and thumbed the machine to life.
And almost instantly I was climbing up the Allegheny Front on a road I generally avoid.
Continue Reading
Fog still has power over me. Awakening at 5:30 AM and catching a glimpse of that magical murk drives the sleep from mind and body and I am ready to ride. Or more precisely, ride so I can document the world I seldom see. The one shrouded in fog and stripped of the noise and clutter of too much stuff.
I was surprised how quickly I could get up, take care of the dogs, and get out the door on the Vespa. The power of fog and riding to motivate and inspire hasn’t faded.
Note to self: I’m not old yet.
Continue Reading
A few things were different on this ride. It was the first foggy morning in a long time. I love riding in fog. Mostly because photographs appear more dramatic and ethereal. I wasn’t sure how Dave felt about it but since he was waiting on his motorcycle when I arrived at his house I figured everything was ok.
Thinking about fog I was reminded of a ride on a Kawasaki KLR in the fog and took a look at an old post that highlights some of the ethereal moments in that kind of light. If you don’t ride in fog you may want to have a look at what you’re missing.
And for once I didn’t need to stop for fuel. My plan was a relaxed sixty mile ride to breakfast but outdated information from Google Maps upended it and we ended up having to ride almost twice as far before sitting down to eat and having to choose between bacon and eggs or a bacon cheeseburger.
Bacon and eggs is aways the clear winner.
Continue Reading
It was already pushing 90 degrees when I rolled the W650 out of the garage this morning. The National Weather Service has been in full panic mode, warning everyone to stay inside like the world is ending. I almost took the car.
I had every excuse ready: It’s too hot. I’m getting older. I should be more careful. Then I caught myself. I spent summers welding inside steel barges in heat like this. Now I’m supposed to be too delicate to ride a motorcycle because it’s 90 degrees? Please. So I geared up, hit the starter, and rode anyway.
The heat was real, but so was the smile on my face the entire time.
I ran my errands, stopped for tea and a cookie, and sat there watching the heat shimmer off the pavement, feeling more alive than I have in weeks.
I’m 72 years old. I still know my limits. And I’m nowhere near ready for the rocking chair. If that makes me stubborn, so be it.
That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.