Scooter in the Sticks

Exploring life on a Vespa Scooter and Royal Enfield Himalayan motorcycle.

Surrender to the URAL

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Craig Kissell sent me an email this week:  “I have a new URAL ready for you to try.”  His messages are always short and to the point. When I arrived at Kissell Motorsports this morning the URAL was glowing in the sunshine as Craig checked me out on the machine making sure I knew where the reverse lever was, the lever to engage 2WD (it has the option to have power to the sidecar wheel), chokes — basically all the things a modern Vespa rider doesn’t have to worry about.

I’ve been thinking about the URAL all week wondering how a brand new one would compare to the short ride I made on one last spring in Colorado courtesy of Redleg’s Ride author Dom Chang.  And it certainly had to be superior to the MP3 sidecar rig I rode last year.

The weather got cold this week and snow was in the air, all of which fueled plenty of adventurous fantasy of grinding through the elements in the URAL as the central Pennsylvania landscape transformed in my mind to central Siberia with me and the machine against the world.  As I put the license plate on the rig I try not to drool on the fender.

The URAL engenders a strange form of riding excitement.

Task and chore and all things adult  would force riding to a meandering trip home, just enough miles to adapt to the big difference between a scooter or motorcycle and a tug with a sidecar.  Even with a brand new Brembo disc brake up front and two drum brakes on the back I didn’t expect much in the way of stopping power.

I’m here to report that this URAL pleasantly surprised me in the braking department.  While demonstrating nothing like the stopping power of a modern motorcycle it does stop when you ask it to.  Just give yourself more distance to make it happen.

Under blue skies and warming air I wandered about testing the brakes and other important control characteristics of the rig before venturing off on a longer ride tomorrow morning.  The URAL had me by this point, I’m lying in the road to make this picture, dreaming of conquering wind and rain, snow and ice, adversity and misfortune astride a URAL.

I can’t figure it out yet but this odd rig triggers some instinctual drive to persevere and stubbornly resist failure.  Weird.  Must be me.

The URAL is kind of dazzling with its orange paint job.  I received more looks and waves today than any machine I have ever ridden.  One little girl in the back of a minivan seemed to lose her mind as she frantically tried to get everyone else to crane their necks to see the sight, seemingly something to her as miraculous as seeing Santa Claus.

On my way into Boalsburg I extended my hand to acknowledge an approaching, fully loaded, BMW R1200 GS only to see the return signal not the casual wave many riders engage but a full gusto laden thumbs up.

The URAL attracts attention.

Parked along Main Street in Boalsburg the URAL looks oddly at home in front of Duffy’s Tavern.  More commonly one would see a string of Harley’s here but at this time of year it’s more likely my Vespa.  Or a URAL.

The URAL is sitting in the driveway while I type this note.  Junior is nosing around, angling to some tennis ball action but I’m thinking I need to go for another little ride as the sun goes down.

I need to surrender to the URAL.

The Triumph Tiger XC Experience

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When Craig Kissell of Kissell Motorsports asked me what I thought of the Tiger after spending a few chilly days with it I told him it has moved to the top of my list.  It’s pretty, it’s fast and it is one of the smoothest shifting motorcycles I have had the pleasure to ride.  But there’s a lot more of interest to me with the Triumph Tiger XC.

The weather played a role in this review — specifically snow and cold.  The first day the Tiger sat in the garage while I watched eight inches of snow fall on the ground.  It was a heavy, wet, big snowflake kind of snow that covered the ground but for most of the day left the road wet with just a few areas of slush.  I would not have hesitated to take the Vespa for a ride but restrained myself from taking the shiny new Triumph out into the salt and slush.  Periodically through the day I visited the Weather.com site on my iPhone trying to speed the storm front along and bring more suitable riding conditions.  Sunday morning found temperatures below freezing with areas of ice and slush near home.

So I waited.

And waited.  Until finally, by mid-afternoon I deemed conditions acceptable to go for a ride.  Morning sunshine and temperatures above freezing during the previous night quickly dispatched the snow.  The very first thing I noticed at 28F was there was a surprising bit of wind protection on the Tiger.  The windscreen sent a large portion of the frigid air up and past my chest and the hand guards did an excellent job of keeping my hands and fingers limber and almost warm.

The Tiger is easy to ride.  One of the few bikes I’ve ridden where I felt completely at home almost instantly.  That’s saying a lot when you consider the jump from Vespa to Tiger.  Riding position was comfortable and so was the seat.  I was able to tear around the countryside in much the same manner I do with the Vespa — start and stop at will, make U-turns easily, and navigate a wide range of surfaces without anxiety.  All important things to me.

Everyone rides for a different reason.  I like to see things.  New places, new roads, new views.  The ordinary places.  No need for me to make grand excursions or trips.  There’s magic everywhere.  The Triumph was an amazingly inviting ride.  Moving through the backroads of Pennsylvania I felt as if I had been riding this bike for years.

After about an hour on the road I could feel my fingers beginning to flicker with the beginnings of numbness when I decided to stop and enjoy the view as I crested a ridge and headed on towards the Allegheny Plateau.  The Tiger has a wonderful engine sound through a nice big muffler.  And while well shielded to make riding pillion enjoyable Triumph must have kept riders like me in mind by making sure there was ample accessible hot metal to warm a poor rider’s cold hands.

I think it was here that I was wishing for heated grips.  I hate having cold hands.

There was still snow along the higher stretches of Interstate 99, a part of the ride I chose to try out the Triumph’s freeway capabilities.

No problems on the freeway.  At 75mph the engine hums nicely at 5000 rpms.  And at 80mph the motorcycle flows effortlessly.  I believe I could ride this bike a long way.

 A short pause for food and drink.  I have simple tastes that are easily satisfied by a cheesedog.  I can tell cold weather has arrived by the looks and comments I get from people who thing it is utterly insane to be riding on a cold day.

The hot dog doesn’t help onlookers make sense of the whole cold weather riding thing.

Speaking of cold weather riding, the landscape and riding routes are so beautiful this time of year that I am loathe to deny myself the pleasure purely because the temperature has dropped.  The Triumph is a great partner for cold weather riding when the roads are clear.  And with the addition of an outlet for my Gerbing Electric Gloves I’m certain I could navigate through most of the winter.

Riding through a shaded valley along the creek I could feel the air chill enough that I figured it was time to head home just 20 miles away.  Farther if I wandered a bit.

The worst part of the ride was when I found myself heading directly at the sun as it neared the horizon.  Riding with one hand on the throttle and the other up shielding my eyes from the glare was tedious at times but not difficult on the stable Tiger.
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At home I’ve already pictured this machine in the garage, a frequent choice over my Vespa for a variety of riding adventures both large and small.  The bike feels safe, reliable, like we’re working together.  It’s got enough power to go anywhere and do anything I can ever imagine doing though keep in mind I pretty much feel the same way about my much smaller Vespa GTS 250.

So to be thorough I decide to take the next morning off to ride a bit more before making any final claims or decisions.

THE NEXT MORNING

Warmer temperatures and the promise of clear skies had me out early on the Tiger.  Early enough to pass through a few patches of lingering fog in some of the narrow passages that allow easy passage between the mountains in the ridge and valley portion of Pennsylvania.  My comfort and ease with the motorcycle must have grown in my sleep allowing me to make U-turns at will on even the narrowest of roads — something I can’t say for every motorcycle I’ve ridden.

A lot of riders judge motorcycles in two ways — how fast it will go, and how fast it will go a long time.  For me, how easy it is to maneuver at slow speeds is a really important quality for a machine intended for frequent commuting, errand running and all around riding.

But I suppose if you plan to ride a long way in a straight line any big bike will do.  And the Tiger will do that just fine by the way.

No motorcycle review is complete in my mind until I know how well the machine transports me to breakfast.  The Sunset West Restaurant provided the location and the Tiger delivered me there without incident.

Breakfast consisted of the usual fare for me and I was pleasantly surprised by the appearance of crispy bacon, an obvious omen of support for the Tiger.  Who actually likes those limp, greasy strips of hog fat that often appear unless you ask specifically for the cook to keep them near the fire a bit longer?

I really wanted to pound some gravel roads with the Tiger but it was just too shiny and new for me to bring myself to put it at risk for a fall.  Not sure why since I had ridden other machines up and down powerline paths.  I must be getting old.

Despite concerns and tires better suited for the pavement I did test the Tiger in a few off road environs and found it capable beyond my skill or temperament.  And it easily managed a number of explorations to what I like to call sylvan treasure sites — those old out of the way depositories that people too busy to make it to the dump use for their personal detritus.  I can spend a lot of time looking around in these places.  I never find anything useful but the potential is seductive.  I suppose it’s what drives Powerball ticket sales.

The Triumph Tiger XC is a go machine.  Go now, go fast, and go far.  Anytime.   And it is forgiving enough to go slow, go to the store, and do all the things I like to do.  I stood along the road with my camera thinking, “I want one of these.”

I do.  I want one.  And Craig Kissell would be delighted to sell me one.  Or any number of other motorcycles for that matter.

If you’re in the neighborhood the Tiger is certainly worth a look or even a test ride. 

Highway Riding and the BMW F800 GS (Part 3)

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Gray clouds gathered over the Allegheny Plateau and I wished had brought my rainsuit. The BMW F800 GS is completely comfortable on the freeway and unlike my Vespa I don’t find the end of available throttle. The threat of rain and traffic moving near 80mph are of no concern. This machine can fly.

The short windscreen does a nice job of moving the air blast off the torso and over the shoulders without creating any weird helmet noise. At 70mph the bike is smooth and steady. I could shrug off a 600 mile day.

West. No destination in mind, just staying on the main roads and keeping the BMW moving fast. My parents used to take drives after church and I remember the sense of adventure standing on the floor of the car looking over the backseat excited to see what was over the next hill. Nothing’s changed as the BMW carries me along familiar roads. US322 towards Philipsburg, a beautiful stretch of road.

A person could ride the F800 GS around the world. Even now, writing months later, I can’t conceive of a situation where I would need more power, more anything. Stopped again along the highway I keep reminding myself that I should just ride and forget about the camera. Forget about scenery. Ride.

Giant tires finally get the best of me. This is coal country and big machinery still lumbers across the landscape. These tires were at least eight feet in diameter.

Having spent so much time riding (and driving for work) it’s hard to find places in Pennsylvania I’ve not wandered through. At each intersection and crossroad I turn towards the west. Moving through Clearfield County and then Jefferson County I eventually find unknown roads and manage to get to the delightful place of having no idea where I am. Just fields and bales and winding roads.

I check the fuel supply.

Standing in the road making this picture I am dangerously close to choosing farm lanes and other mysterious dirt tracks over the highway. I’ve been down those tracks before and I know I can completely lose myself in exploring and taking pictures. On this day I want to stay on the highway and go.

I see a sign for Punxsutawney, a town I’ve somehow never managed to visit save for viewings of Groundhog Day.

I spend a bit of time looking for Gobblers Knob and some evidence of the February 2nd festivities but the motorcycle call is stronger and I allow the BMW to rocket me out of town.

Riding south on US119 I realize I will be passing through Home, Pennsylvania, birthplace of one of my favorite authors Edward Abbey. His books The Fools Progress and Desert Solitaire hover near the top of my list. I’ve been on the road for five hours without stopping for food, water, or even many pictures. It’s time to head home another three hours away. At this moment I feel gratitude for the comfortable riding position.

Food, fuel and a few minutes of relaxation at the Sheetz outside Ebensburg along US 22. As people walked back and forth into the store a few stopped to look at the motorcycle. A woman, three men, and one little kid. No useful marketing demographic information to glean. It is an attractive machine. It’s grown on me over time – even in orange. It’s utility as a form of transportation and recreation are high and adding some sidecases would make it perfect for adventure or grocery shopping. At least if you don’t let your image of a BMW get in the way. Not much sexy or adventurous about grocery shopping.

Passing a group of Harleys on I99 I race ahead so I can make a picture of them passing the BMW. Almost missed it because the power button on my Canon G9 is flaky. The F800 GS could ride along all day with the big cruisers and touring bikes. Poor things would have to park and wait though when you decide to tear off up a fire trail or run across a creek to see what’s on the other side. Group rides would require patience and understanding on the part of the big bike riders.

So, that’s about it. Verdict: The BMW F800 GS is a great machine for me. Tall at first meeting even for me but after some miles didn’t seem tall at all. Power – you bet. Plenty for any legal or illegal speeds on the highway. Returning home on I99 I stayed with the pack of traffic for about ten miles traveling at near 80mph and the motorcycle was smooth, handled windblast fine and had plenty of throttle to leap ahead if needed. But that kind of travel is not for me and I was glad to leave the freeway and drift home at more leisurely speeds that allow me more time to react to any sudden chaos.

If I have any lingering questions it would be which bike to choose – the BMW F800 GS or the BMW F650 GS?

I reluctantly returned the motorcycle to Kissell Motorsports.

The Candy Store

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I like visiting three kinds of establishments — camera shops, stores that sell fountain pens and elegant paper, and motorcycle dealerships. Showing up at Kissell Motorsports brand new facility on Friday afternoon I felt like a kid in a candy store.

I had my eye on a yellow BMW R1200 GS. A big version of the F800 GS I have been writing about. (NOTE: I’ll post part 3, the final installment sometime this week. I have some scooter stuff to share first.) Sitting astride the bike I can’t help but feel a little intimidated by the big boxer engine that seems to swallow you up.

No surprise that the Ducati collection has a few items of desire. And I can’t ever seem to pass the Vespa without imagining myself on a new scooter. Craig Kissell suggests a look at one of the new Triumph motorcycles.

A Triumph rings the classic motorcycle bells in my head. That’s probably why Craig points me to something outside my fantasy and comfort zone.

After a little discussion I exchange my Vespa GTS 250ie for the Triumph Sprint GT1050. Just for the weekend I’ll try my hand at being the hard charging sport touring man…

On the Road: (sort of) BMW F 800 GS (Part 2)

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I swore to myself I’d let the motorcycle show me what it could do on the highway this next trip. Packing 85 horsepower on a 392 pound frame just begs to roar down the road. From the moment I leave the driveway I begin to get in the way and derail any plans the bike might have. Rather than put the F800 GS through paces on the open road I continue to turn onto ever smaller and more obscure pavement.

This BMW F800 GS is fast. Or should I say it would go fast in places where one eye is not on the botanical landscape while the other continually scans for deer, groundhogs and skunks. Not the perfect situation for testing the handling and performance of a motorcycle.

BMW rates the top speed at 125 MPH. Don’t expect to read about me going that fast.

Anywhere. Ever. I’m a chicken. Give me snow and give me ice but I’ll say no thank you to speed. In the most extreme you won’t hear descriptions of lean angles or pegs dragging. I’ll leave that to more experienced riders.

Any hopes of a conventional highway ride dissolve when the pavement turns to gravel. I feel myself drawn (again) to roads disappearing into the woods, away from pavement, away from the hum and drum of the road.

The slightly aggressive street tires are fine this mostly packed mix of fine gravel and limestone. Remembering my mission I twist the throttle to bring the bike to life, race through the woods, and give myself over to the BMW experience. At least until the tunnel of green gets the best of me and forces a stop to make a picture.

Sitting in B&N writing part of this review I struggle mightily to retrieve some technical details to impress and describe the superb German engineering. Generally my eyes simultaneously glaze over and roll back into my head whenever I hear (or read) discussions of valve trains, power curves and other equally esoteric engineering topics but it’s so obvious that this motorcycle is well built. So I feel compelled to say something technical.

The bike has ABS brakes, a feature I wished I had on my Vespa, especially in the winter. How’s that for a thorough technical review…

The Touratech gear Kissell Motorsports added is functionally impressive. The extra lights are probably the best investment a rider could make. If you’re nervous about riding at night these will help. The hand shields in combination with the BMW’s heated grips would be a great cold weather combination. Having ridden thousands of miles in sub-freezing temperatures the combination gets my heartiest endorsement even though they weren’t needed for this summer ride. Anyone buying this motorcycle surely won’t store it for winter will they?

On tight packed gravel the bike performed well and it’s surefooted stability left me with a feeling of confidence that I don’t have with my Vespa. Riding faster than usual often didn’t leave time to negotiate ruts and holes or rise up on the pegs to mediate the jolts and thumps delivered by a ragged road. More aggressive tires would be nice for the looser gravel and dirt I encountered and would be a definite plus for extended riding in that kind of environment.

Coming across a shale pit I turned and raced across the bare, stony ground and onto a small road leading into the woods. After less than a mile the road emerges into the open area of a high-power transmission line. There’s a path following the lines up the mountain. It’s steep, irregular and rocky in places. Riding trails like these was a favorite activity as a kid on a dirt bike. Now, at 56, I pause to consider the wisdom of attempting it with a brand new motorcycle that isn’t mine with tires that are less than ideal. After a discussion in my head with Craig Kissell I’m convinced he would say full speed ahead.

At the top of the second hill I’ve had enough and stop to make a few pictures, let my heart rate return to normal and celebrate the fact that I didn’t drop the bike. One thing is for sure – the BMW F800GS does not lack for power to climb a hill. My respect for the machine continues to grow.

My stomach forces me back to the main road and 20 miles later I’m ready to enjoy a leisurely lunch outside McAlevys Fort, Pennsylvania before heading home.

While I consider this ride a failure in respect to my original objective of trying it out on the highway I was able to enjoy the prowess of the BMW in other ways. In the next (and last) installment of this review I finally manage to shift my riding style long enough to put a couple hundred road miles on the BMW F800 GS.

Stay tuned.