The Trail 125: Keeping the Spark Alive as the Years Roll On

In the Mirror

A few years ago, just before turning 70, I looked in the mirror and acknowledged I’m getting old. Not an admission of failure or surrender, but rather an acceptance of reality and the need to make some adjustments. Especially as it pertains to riding. While still able to ride bigger motorcycles I could tell the comfort point had shifted. Particularly riding off the pavement. And that desire to maintain a reasonable comfort level led me to buy the Honda Trail 125. The perfect little motorcycle for an old man hell bent on still exploring places where the road isn’t always well traveled or maintained.

Two Old Men

My friend Paul and I bought Honda Trail 125s on the same day in different parts of Pennsylvania, neither of us knowing what the other was doing. Probably a joint recognition that we were getting older and something smaller and lighter would allow us to continue exploring the forests and mountains of central Pennsylvania.

Our day began at a local convenience store to get food. It was unlikely we would encounter any places to eat along the route I had in mind.

Moshannon State Forest

It’s surprising how many roads within a 50-mile radius of home I have still not explored. Dozens if not hundreds of paved and gravel roads just waiting to be ridden. It didn’t take long until we turned off the paved road onto a small gravel track. The Honda Trail 125 motorcycle handles these roads perfectly. It has adequate suspension travel even for the rough stretches, enough power to travel at speeds similar to what I would run on the Himalayan.

What Maps Don’t Tell You

About five miles up a new road we discovered a gate. On the map I saw a remote, winding road over some ridges and along a creek. Plenty of new territory to explore. A couple of E-bike riders came by who were comfortable skirting the gate. I guess a little electric assist doesn’t quality as a motor vehicle. They said the route was beautiful and that the road has been closed for years.

Google Maps didn’t provide that information.

Ticks and Photography

Paul pulled his socks up over the bottom of his pants before wading into the brush to make a photograph. With the plants waist high I don’t think it will do much to prevent a tick from hitching a ride. I’ve had so many tick bites the past ten years that I almost never venture into places like this anymore for a photo. My stomach has endured enough doxycycline for a lifetime already.

The landscapes are beautiful despite the ticks.

Alternate Routes

A little backtracking was necessary before we found another route north. The Moshannon State Forest is crisscrossed with dirt and gravel roads. I was hopeful we wouldn’t run into any more gates. I remember driving years ago for miles and miles only to find a gate. It’s a discouraging experience. With the Trail 125 we could easily go around them but I’ve never had the outlaw temperament to risk an encounter with the law.

The Buddy System

Sixty-five years ago I learned about the buddy system in YMCA summer camp. Always swimming with a buddy is the safe way to keep from drowning. That process where two people are paired together to watch out for each other, share knowledge, or offer support is probably a good idea for riding as well. It’s always more comfortable in remote places to have someone along for the ride. Especially true for old men.

The Honda Trail 125 Motorcycle

The desire to ride this little machine sneaks up on you. The first few times I rode it the bike seemed a little clumsy to shift and seemed more like a bicycle than a motorcycle. A little practice and seat time proved both wrong. It’s easy to shift and manage the power and it is far more capable than my early bicycle judgement.

It will take me anywhere in the 300 square mile area that I usually ride in. And to places that I would never approach on the Himalayan. The only limitation I find with this bike is between my ears — do I have the patience to let a ride unfold in a manner the Trail 125 can embrace?

The perfect machine for an old man like me.

Hidden Places

Interstate 80 roars overhead. Beneath the highway is a different world. One inhabited by myriad characters that most never encounter. There’s a lot of evidence of activity from graffiti to beer cans and worse. Explorations into the anthropology of an area.

Rough Stuff and Old Men

I could ride the Himalayan through this area but the risk of dumping the bike is higher than I’m comfortable with. At least alone. I was here a few years ago on the Himalayan and the place was covered with water. I contemplated forging ahead but decided to retreat. It’s always difficult to know what lies beneath murky waters.

The Trail 125s are perfect for two old men no longer interested in risking injury just to prove they can navigate rough trails on a “real” motorcycle. Even though I’m older, I’m wiser.

Devils Elbow Road

The road home would be scenic and without any technical challenges. And all downhill riding off the Allegheny Plateau to the valley floor near Milesburg, Pennsylvania. It’s been a decade or more since I’ve been here and there have been a lot of changes. More cabins and homes in an area that used to feel wild. And a big corporate entity seems to have purchased an entire mountainside for a private hunting resort. Judging by the endless “No Trespassing” signs their reach is extensive.

Lunchtime

Seldom do we carry lunch with us. Long habits of finding cafes and diners are difficult to break and the thought of carrying a sandwich along on a ride with no opportunity to sit and eat seems like a personal failure to me. Perhaps too many hikes and backpacking trips in my youth exhausted my patience for trailside dining.

A Final View

Before descending into the comparative bedlam of town we stopped for one last look at the world in which we can ride. And on a Honda Trail 125 it feels like pure, deep adventure. No need to ride halfway across America for that feeling. It’s always right here in front of us, two old men enjoying the world on a little motorcycle.