Scooter in the Sticks

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

2009 Kawasaki KLR 650: A Ride in the Fog

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Finally, the first long ride on a Kawasaki KLR 650. Long an occupant of an imaginary world that finds me breaking out across empty deserts or untracked tundra in a never ending life of adventure. The fantasy roots in the same place that gave rise to my dreams of the Triumph Bonneville. After a near perfect experience on the Triumph I remembered the old adage that lighting never strikes twice in the same place. My expectations of the KLR were guarded.

Morning fog delighted the photographer but triggered concern for the rider. With limited experience on the tall KLR I spent some time weighing risk before finally heading down the road at 6:30am. The fog wasn’t thick but quickly managed to cover my visor with dew while the inside began to fog. Cracking the visor open to allow air inside only succeeded in rendering my eyeglasses unusable. I’ve ridden on many foggy mornings but this was the first time I had serious visibility concerns. While making the photograph of the Kawasaki parked in the farm lane I was hatching a plan to get the shiny new motorcycle to the closest diner or coffee shop in one piece and wait for the sun to clear the road. I made plans to ride back to town and abandon any adventuring, at least for the next couple hours.

Another stop to clear my vision and make a photograph. With all the start and stop riding the KLR starts flawlessly with a touch of the starter button when warm and starts just as easily first thing in the morning with a flick of the handlebar mounted choke. If nothing else I was getting plenty of practice in creating muscle memory for the starting procedures.

Being more interested in riding than sitting a thinning of the fog was all I needed to continue on my journey out of town. My mind was plotting courses but I wasn’t finding much excitement. The more I try and force a ride the less inspired they usually are. So I just gave myself over to the KLR and let it lead the way. At least until I realized I didn’t know how much fuel I had on board.

There are few old mom and pop gas stations anymore and the ones I do see I’m not sure I want to pump their gas into my tank. So I pull into one of the modern Sheetz centers and put two gallons of premium in the tank. I forgot to ask when I picked up the motorcycle about the octane requirement. Premium would cover all bases. There was a bit of sunshine peeking through the fog and I made the decision to jump on the expressway west to get onto the Allegheny Plateau and some winding rural roads fast. And have a chance to see how the Kawasaki would perform at freeway speeds.

Up and out of the fog I found myself in a brief island of sunshine at the top of Bald Eagle Ridge. The KLR has plenty of power to move along at highway speeds though I did find myself wishing for a sixth gear though with the tachometer indicating just over 4000 rpm at 65 mph. A twist of the throttle would move the speedometer up quickly if necessary. The fairing and small windshield did a nice job keeping the ride comfortable. For me at least. I kind of like a blast of wind in the chest. Intermittent fog keep my speed in a safe place and my eyes constantly searching ahead and behind for vehicles oblivious to the decline in visibility.

Riding up onto the Allegheny Plateau west of Port Matilda I was was pleased to have clear skies and excellent visibility. I stopped hoping to find the perfect picture of the motorcycle along the road with a fog bank in the valley below. No such luck — the fog burned bright from sunlight. I was a couple hours too late for that shot. Moving west on US 322 the fog returned along with an increase in traffic. A respite appeared in the form of a gravel road.

The Kawasaki KLR thrives on roads like these — hard packed gravel and dirt that crisscross the forested heart of Pennsylvania. And that’s why this machine fits my riding desires so well. I like to explore. I want to see what’s down all those little roads and paths that veer off the pavement. And I want to explore the paved ones too. I know the KLR can support big rides, cross country rides that make epic, once in a lifetime journeys for some, or even once a year tours for others. Time and circumstance aren’t stacked up for me right now to make those kinds of trips. Besides, I like to ride too much to live for infrequent vacations on two-wheels. I want to go now, right here, in my landscape. The more I see the more I realize remains to see. And with the KLR I’ll be limited only by my own skill and drive.

The aggressive tread on the Dunlop tires are remarkably sticky even on the wet pavement. A little further experimentation with the brakes to see where wheel lock occurs gives me a lot more confidence on the tall bike. Stopping here to make a picture also revealed the need for me to exercise and stretch. By this point I had already been on and off the bike as many times as some riders might do in a week. Definitely need to revisit my physical conditioning. Why is it every time I think of physical condition I end up with bacon?

Breakfast at The Little Restaurant in Philipsburg will do nothing to enhance my ability to get on the KLR. I’m remembering the process of getting on a horse as a kid. It involved a little work. At 55 I’m working a bit to get on the KLR. It’s worth it. It’s a modern horse and I can go where I want.

After breakfast I’m uncertain of where to go next. Looking around I think I need to return to Philipsburg again for another meal with Paul. And then explore some of the other towns for additional food sources. The Kawasaki sounds pretty good starting up. I tend to like things quiet and routinely ride with earplugs, even with the Vespa, but do admire the big single cylinder engine. Pulling away the sound of the chain, transmission and engine all come together in a mechanical symphony that is pleasing to my ears. At the next stop I remove the earplugs to listen a little closer.

More dirt and gravel roads as I move through Black Moshannon State Park and Moshannon State Forest. With each passing mile my confidence grows in the motorcycle and my skills with it. The big tires deliver a solid, steady ride on the gravel roads. There is a lot to see if you have time to look.

At each successive stop the KLR feels more maneuverable. The time it takes to stop and park the bike is quicker. More mental energy is going into where to park rather than how to park. And I am loving the giant foot on the kickstand. Other than really soft ground I don’t have concerns that the kickstand will sink down and drop the bike. Nice touch. No need to carry around a flattened beer can.

Wild trout live in this stream. Back at the main highway I saw a fisherman wading with fly rod in hand, focused on his passion in much the same way I was. The red flowers of the wild bee balm caught my eye. I’m glad I took a moment to climb down the back to the stream and make a picture. I don’t do it enough when I’m riding. I look but seem to reserve the camera for the road and whatever I’m riding.

The morning is slipping away towards afternoon and I head towards home. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was on the gravel roads but had a general idea of which direction I needed to go. Back on the pavement I put the KLR through it’s last paces of the day by abandoning any further photography and just concentrated on riding. The Kawasaki was surprisingly agile in curves and responded with a kind of throaty rumble when I would twist on some throttle. The motorcycle had plenty left when I got to my riding limits. Just keep in mind that I’m not good but I am slow. I had a few chuckles earlier in the week reading an account of my Triumph riding that thought I did a little too much slow riding.

Slow riding, slow travel. I suppose that’s what I am about. It fits my needs with camera and my desire to generally slow down my life. The Kawasaki, while perfectly able to lead a frenetic pace on or off the road, is equally comfortable carrying me along at my pace. It’s a fine horse. A horse that I’d be content to ride for a long time.

If I had any concerns it was the fact that in a day or so I would be returning the KLR to Kissell Motorsports.

2009 Kawasaki KLR 650: First Evening Ride

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A gray, wet day seems an appropriate backdrop for a ride on a Kawasaki KLR 650, the next bike in the New Wheels in the Sticks project. The KLR has been on my mental radar for a long time as a sort of utilitarian do anything motorcycle. The Jeep of the two wheeled world. There is something satisfying in thinking there is nothing I could not do or place I could not go. Thanks to Kissell Motorsports I’ll have the opportunity over the next few days to take the Kawasaki out on the road and see how it feels.

There wasn’t much time to ride today, just a long loop around the valley to get a feel for how the big machine handles. I say big because the first thing I noticed was how tall the KLR is. I mean really tall. At just under 6’3″ tall I felt like I was barely able to touch the ground. In reality I had no problem flat-footing the bike but it felt pretty high for the first 20 minutes until I became accustomed to it.
The past two bikes I’ve ridden had fuel injected engines and I have gotten used to just pressing the starter button and go. The KLR wanted me to give it a little fuel before it would start. And it wants me to open the fuel valve and even give it a choke when cold. The perplexed look on my face passed quickly as memories flooded back.
Like each new machine I ride I find a lonesome road to test out the brakes and stopping characteristics. In addition to clean, positive braking it was nice to know the aggressive tread on the tires worked well on the damp and wet pavement. The 650cc single cylinder thumper engine was a new experience. I intentionally didn’t use my normal foam earplugs so I could get used to the sounds the KLR makes. I like to have some idea of what sounds right and what doesn’t.
Didn’t really have time for much riding this evening but I’m planning to leave early tomorrow to see how I like this big, tall motorcycle out in the sticks.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Image, Myth and Ride

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Steve Williams with Triumph Bonneville motorcycle
Me being cool with a Triumph Bonneville.
Triumph Bonneville in a cornfield
A go almost anywhere motorcycle.

Why do I like this motorcycle so much?

 
I had to make a picture of the two of us to figure it out. Image. Part of the fascination with the Triumph Bonneville is the way it looks and the way I think I look with it. Let’s say it allows me to pretend a part of me is like some of my boyhood heros on motorcycles. In an alley in downtown State College, Pennsylvania I found a location that reminded me of the urban landscapes that I pictured the Triumph. That’s about as rough as it gets here. The back door of the Eddie Bauer store. But that is only part of the fascination with the motorcycle. There is a lot more to it than image and myth.
 
An early morning ride through familiar terrain gave me a chance to compare solitary riding on the Triumph Bonneville to the experience on my Vespa. My intent on the scooter is an unfolding of tension and disposal of noise gathered in my head through the week, an ongoing meditation on two wheels and I was anxious to determine whether I could achieve the same thing on the Triumph. Despite it’s ability to charge down the road it was perfectly able to deliver a relaxed journey, a simple flight along these rural roads. Turning off the road onto a farm lane just to admire the morning light may not be typical Triumph riding fare but in a hectic world it is nothing short of magical. For me. Thundering down the road can wait until another day.
 
Final thoughts on the Triumph Bonneville. I want one. It’s simple, elegant construction embraces my desire for a simpler life. The classic lines and design trigger the same motorcycle wanderlust now that I felt as a teenager wishing I owned something like this. On the road it handled flawlessly and never left me feeling unsure or unsafe. While it’s power is seductive and speed deceptive a bit of mental adjustment on my part as a rider made this motorcycle mine to command.

Did I say I want one?

I returned the bike to Kissell Motorsports and I have to admit the childish part of my brain kept imagining Craig Kissell saying, “Aww heck, just keep it a while longer…” But there are more motorcycles to experiment with and so little time…

Triumph Bonneville motorcycle on rural road.
A fine motorcycle for almost anything.

2009 Triumph Bonneville: Heading West Just After Sunrise

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My friend Paul Ruby and I were on the road early with plans to ride west towards Clearfield to find a new place to for breakfast. I have begun to wonder how many riders make a ritual of riding to breakfast. Something like private pilots and the 200 dollar cheeseburger. A short stop at the Sunoco station on North Atherton Street where Paul could get gas for his motorcycle gave me a chance to admire the Triumph Bonneville. Again. In the light from the rising sun it just seemed to glimmer. Really. Well, I did do some interpretation in Photoshop but the bike does look good. I’ve dreamt about motorcycles that look like this. And so far it has lived up to my expectations.

The Bonneville is at home on the highway. Every bike or scooter I’ve ever ridden seems to have a riding sweet spot. A speed where the bike is completely relaxed, a mid-ground where you don’t notice you’re going slow and you don’t notice you’re going fast. For the Triumph it’s between 50 and 60mph. (In my decidedly non-scientific estimation). Riding my Vespa GTS250ie I find it right around 45mph. Your results may vary.
I pulled over just as we approached the top of Bald Eagle Ridge on Interstate 99. I made Paul back his motorcycle up so I could admire the unobstructed view of the road and sky. This motorcycle loves this kind of road.

Another stop for a picture along US322 as it begins to rise into the Allegheny Plateau. With the clouds passing over the hills and valleys this area looks as much like parts of Virginia and North Carolina as it does Pennsylvania. My thoughts travel momentarily to imagined rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The weather has been unusually cool this summer and the feeling of fall hits me even though it’s July. When I left the house it was 59 degrees Fahrenheit and I was wearing my winter riding jacket with a liner. I love this kind of weather but it isn’t fondly embraced by riders who like to travel unencumbered by too much clothing.

My riding style generally consists of slow, slower and stop. Stop for pictures. Stop to look around and just breathe in the world. It took me awhile to tame the Triumph’s desire to go fast. While it does not have a huge engine it is entirely within it’s power to go fast. It’s deceptive and I had to keep a close eye on the speedometer to make sure the State Police would not want to take a closer look at the bike too.

If you want to see pictures on a ride you just have to go slow otherwise you will rush by all but the biggest landscape views. And by slow I mean 35mph. It’s easier at 25mph and easier yet at 15mph. With a little practice and experimentation with the gearbox I was able to find a photo speed sweet spot. I don’t ride that way all the time but some places call out for attention. So it’s nice to know how to make myself and the bike comfortable.

Paul pulled into a gas station in Coalport for fuel and a chance to show off his back stretching regimen. No matter how many times I witness the ritual something just seems wrong. If you ever run into Mr. Ruby as him to tell you about the time he was stretching his back in McDonalds with a pack of Boy Scouts present. Then you’ll understand.

Adding fuel to the Triumph is easy except for the trepidation of splashing gas on the mirror finish paint job. I was extremely careful but without knowing how much gas was in the tank or how much it would hold I went slow. At two gallons I stopped and replaced the shiny chrome gas cap without so much as a drop of gas to mar the finish. Have I said how pretty this black motorcycle is?
The search for food was not going well. Phillipsburg was a bust as was Oseeola Mills, Houtzdale, Madera and Irvona. By the time we stopped in Coalport my stomach was done riding. I was on autopilot to a known breakfast way station near Prince Gallitzin State Park in Flinton, Pennsylvania. Sir Barney’s.

Sir Barney’s has standard, reliable breakfast fare which is exactly what I needed. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, juice and toast. It’s like my riding security blanket. The only meal of the day I can count on to make me whole and not put me to sleep. Maybe that’s why I tend to ride in the morning.

Riding with a trusted riding partner like Paul has it’s advantages over riding alone. You get to experience things twice. Once through your eyes and once through someone else’s. While I was happy as a clam to have food he was concerned with the lack of interest the wait staff seemed to pay us. We got everything we needed but we didn’t get characters. There was nothing memorable about the people working there, no fodder for stories or humorous anecdotes. As Paul commented, “They’re 9 to 5ers.”.

Ours were the only motorcycles in the parking lot. The Triumph and Harley looked good out there. And I was glad to be able to keep my eye on things. I’m still a bit apprehensive with Craig Kissell’s generosity in loaning me motorcycles. I imagine a phone call…”I parked it right outside the diner. I was only there for 20 minutes. It’s a family place. I can’t imagine who took it….”

So I keep my eye on things. While I’m riding and when it’s parked. Maybe that’s why Kissell Motorsports trusts me with their motorcyle.

By the time I arrived at the home of my inlaws we had ridden 100 miles. The Triumph looked as good in their driveway as it did in mine. I think it would look good in anyone’s driveway. It’s just a cool, classic machine if your interests lean in that direction. As much as I would have liked to ride all day adult responsibilities beckon me home. Besides, there still was another 70 miles of riding ahead to help ease the pain…

I am completely comfortable with the Triumph Bonneville. The transition from scooter to motorcycle was effortless for me. Muscle memories of shifting motorcycles in the 1970s returned and I was at home astride this machine. I can’t say enough good things about the Triumph so I’ll just stop for now.
I have one more post on the Triumph reflecting on a short ride alone through the countryside. Look for that soon.