Showing posts with label BMW. Show all posts
Showing posts with label BMW. Show all posts

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Small Motorcycles

I bought my first motorcycle in the Fall of 1975 when I was weeks away from turning 18. I was in Italy and I had previously passed my British motorcycle test which allowed me to ride a full sized motorcycle at 17 so when a  friend told me this fire engine red MV Agusta was for sale I was ready to buy and ride. Looking back I wonder at myself, because I added some plastic saddle bags and  backpack and took off across Europe on it to see my family in England. Just like that. The bike did fine, and remarkably enough so did my 18 year old spine riding long days on the cafe racer.
So when I read about what  bike do you need to travel I am firmly in the camp that whatever you have will do. Naturally there are some that carry more stuff or have more comfortable seats and as always cost a lot more. But Modern motorcycles are amazing, reliable and requiring little maintenance, well built and well equipped compared to the tractors we rode  40 years ago. And as if to cheer me up a whole bunch of new small motorcycles are coming onto the market to cheer American riders up. BMW  has shocked everyone with this 310 to be shown off at the big motorbike show EICMA in Milan this week:
The BMW is supposedly part of a drive by European and US manufacturers to penetrate the Indian market, which is huge with a burgeoning middle class and a population moving from scooters to motorcycles. They have tons of models as do other south east Asian and Latin American countries that we never see. However in order to generate brand loyalty and create exciting new models foreigners have to get over a massive import tax on foreign machines levied by the Indian Government. So they build their Indian market bikes in India. Triumph had plans to do the same and scrapped their proposed 350 single. KTM from Austria has a joint venture in India building a 200cc single and a 390cc version has made it to the States:
In order to seduce Indian youth the bikes are modern looking with all modern conveniences but for the US market some people think old fashioned looking small bikes will tug at heart strings, like Genuine's new 400 which looks like small Triumph Bonneville single with twin exhausts. I like the looks of it though spoked wheels and tires with tubes are a drag in this day and age when you repair a flat roadside if it's tubeless.
I owned Yamaha's SR500 in 1979 and riode it around West Africa for half a year and had a grand old time. They still make it in Japan where it's restricted to 400cc capacity to allow younger riders to buy it and it is apparently popular. They've sold a few since they re-introduced it last year in the US despite the lack of electric start and a price tag of fully  six thousand dollars.  I want one tubed tires and all!
Goodness there are a lot of smaller motorcycles appearing in the US and now Sym , known for it's scooters is going to be offering a rather attractive 300cc motorcycle. They haven't given any detials but it's supposed to be a more capable motorcycle than their 150cc Wolf. With 300 cc engines motorcycles should be able to get up to around 80 miles per hour and thus make them able to ride comfortably with traffic on freeways. The Sym looks good too with solid wheels and tubeless tires. Extra points for that!
SYM Wolf 300 Classic
Suzuki brought a well built 250 single to the US market a few years ago, rather ahead of the popularity curve and it is still offered for sale here. I liked it a lot when it first appeared as it enjoys all the usual benefits of economy and simplicity but it never generated much after market accessories, not even a luggage rack which I think is a shame.
Suzuki also brought this 250 to the US to not very glowing reviews. Its a water cooled twin with not terribly exciting performance though it does enjoy the robotic looks that are supposedly popular in this day and age. Personally I think its a look only its mother could love but I am old and form another era.
Honda has been having success with a 300cc scooter but their new range of motorcycles between 300cc and 500cc offered as standards like this 300 and as boy racer bikes too are proving popular as well. I look back at my early motorcycles and it seems a shame to me that these bikes will be reserved for short hops and Sunday rides and maybe the odd commute when they could do so much more for so little money. Scooter riders argue that scooters are more practical but  luggage and a windshield can make these motorcycles just as capable of hauling home the groceries. Plus you get a machine that will take you anywhere and offer spirited riding with a gearbox and excellent fuel economy.



If you want a really old bike the modernized Royal Enfield from India is as close as it gets alongside the more reliable Yamaha SR400. I think the Enfields are cute but they suffer from poor reliability and high maintenance requirements. I looked at how long it takes to do an oil change on these beats and they have multiple steps opening various parts of the engine for what should be a simple operation. The old foges that buy these tend to tinker more than ride. But they look and sound pretty for more than six grand.
Last among the new small bikes is the one that has been there forever. The Ninja 300 twin was sold for years and years as  a 250, capable of racing on the track or traveling to Alaska, and commuting at speeds close to a hundred miles an hour. The new 300cc is better than ever they say and still winning converts. Just another splendid choice in a whole new array of motor y les in the US. IT's a good time to be riding.
After I sold the MV Agusta I bought a Moto Morini 350 in 1977 and that year I rode it across North Africa and Spain to England with adapted luggage, no spare parts, no proper riding clothing, tubed tires and not a lot of money. No internet either for advice or to hear from people advising against my hare brained plans. I had a blast camping as I went on my little v-twin cafe racer. It didn't seem so little at the time and I rode it at similar speeds to those I ride today on my 900cc Bonneville.
I can't say I wish I were young again because I like myself at my age. But I hope youngsters will take advantage of these great bikes in this modern age to have adventures and do what they can with what they have and not worry  about size; it really doesn't matter. 

Saturday, July 30, 2011

We Are Childs

The beauty of being a child is that whatever is your reality it is that which you accept as normal. As adults we learn to question and challenge and seek change and demand reform but as children we look out of our bedroom windows and see Todi in the distance sitting as it has for a millennium or more in the Tiber valley and we accept the sight as normal.


Seeing it all through my wife's marveling eyes has helped me to appreciate the physical beauty of my childhood home and environs. Giovanni and I spent our summers in this village, and I took it as normal to live in a rather large home with a rather imposing roofline.


We spent our ample free summer time riding mopeds, wandering the fields and farms, getting lost in the woods and gathering in the evening to play hide and seek while our elders and betters stood around talking of this and that.
Much as they as still do, though there were many more of us then before depopulation of rural areas took people to the cities in search of proper salaries and modern comforts.

Our tastes have changed a bit but engines still come up when we are together. This summer we spent a happy afternoon watching the German Grand Prix together hoping that Ferrari might win and make the day much better.

Giovanni has been married nearly three decades, the time I have been gone since I ran away to make a new life in the New World. But even today we remember our carefree childhood and riding together is a way for us to reminisce. He looked so young on his wedding day.

And even younger when we were riding mopeds together 40 years ago:Giovanni's English is sometimes a bit wobbly as he has little opportunity to practice it, but when he finds himself entertaining my wife he has to meet her halfway as her Italian is weaker than his English. In explaining our shared passion for taking rides together he summed it up rather simply as "We are childs." So we are and we take advantage of the incredible variety of mountain roads to practice our childishness. "I am going to call you the architect," he said. "I've been watching you and you've been drawing perfect lines with the bike," he explained. An explanation I took as high praise indeed from one who rides 15,000 miles a year in all weathers on these roads.


Giovanni has spent his life in his home town becoming one of the leading cardiologists in this city of 120,000, even as I have spent my life wandering hither and yon. But now in middle age we come together as often as we can and compare notes. Always best done when riding. He is well known at the Terni BMW dealer where he changes cars and bikes regularly so it is a small matter for him to rent some exotica at an extraordinaryly low price for my annual visits. Giovanni is a wheeler and dealer and he loves to make a deal, a skill I have never developed. I pay sticker price much to my wife's disgust and Giovanni's amusement. "Noblesse oblige" he says ironically referring to my upbringing in a castle.




We stop now and then for an espresso, Giovanni smokes his abiding sin much to the fury of his unforgiving wife left out of sight at home, and answers a few of the many iPhone messages from his anxious patients. He works eight hours a day in the hospital, covering shifts day and night as he has done for twenty years, waiting to qualify for his state pension and then he works several hours a day in his private practice. Thats so he can afford the toys that make his life more fun. His is not the stereotypical dolce vita lifestyle so often attributed to modern Italians. He works very long and very hard for his vacations; for instance he has just left for two weeks in his RV in Croatia and before leaving he sent me an e-mail, "Just as well you left, it has never stopped raining all week..." even the Gods approved of my departure apparently.




We are old fashioned childs we two. We like serendipity to infuse our rides so we eschew the use of GPS, we read maps take chances and follow our luck. When luck runs out we stop to regroup with coffee and talk, and review the map. We usually ride alone in every day life, so when we are together on these rides we ride at our own pace and meet up at the next intersection if we get separated.




Making time for the inevitable caffe is critically important, coffee is often taken standing up, one adds a packet of sugar, stirs mightily till the granules are dissipated and then one tosses the caffeine down in a single quick gulp. 20 ounces of Starbucks finest would appall your average Italian. Giovanni likes Starbucks espresso but he calls American coffee "brodo" -soup- with deep contempt.




Giovanni is a take charge kind of guy and he takes my visits seriously,so he plans our outings with military precision. "I've been studying the maps..." he says and we throw in a historic sight, a well known eatery, a wine shop or just some excellent view and off we go corner carving and chasing the perfect line.



I tend to ignore my phone more than usual as I am away and unobtainable and my wife knows Giovanni's number.


A light lunch we promise ourselves when we stop but all too often that plan has a habit of getting away from us....


A large part of our daily rides is talking, discussing the news of the day, the meaning of life, our hopes for the future, our families, our fears. Put the goddamn camera away is a frequent order that I like to ignore. Just as Giovanni can't stop talking when we pause for a pee break so can I not stop recording my life. "America," he explains to his family, " is different. Just as they have no brakes on social mobility upwards when things are good, so they have no parachutes on social mobility downward when things are bad. A prince today and a peasant tomorrow," he says. He still sees America as Europe's Marshall Plan, supporter of last resort, and defender. I am not so sure, but he brushes my fears aside. "America will always be strong," and he waves his arm for emphasis.


"You remind me of a Japanese tourist, always taking pictures," he complains. "How many have you taken anyway?" but he plays along when he is in the mood, posing on the medieval bridge in Apecchio, in the Marche.


As I grow older the more I value our friendship which feels more like a blood relationship, as unbreakable as any family bond. People come and go from our lives, unfortunately as life intervenes in our choices. This year I didn't come away feeling as talked out as I do usually. I wanted more time, more talk, more debate, more thought provocation. We don't do goodbyes very well and his departure from the airport was hurried and sudden, a tearing asunder and it will be months till we meet again. With things the way they are I hope it isn't years. That would be tough to take and not just because I would miss riding mountain roads in three dimensions. Every now and then one needs to be a child once again.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Santa Restituta

My brother in law mentioned to me that the local pedestrian village hidden in a fold of the mountains had been restored recently. We decided to stop by and check it out.


The road to Santa Restituta ends abruptlynin. Parking lot at the base of the village. A road wraps around the hill town to end in another parking lot at the top but we wanted to take a stroll as we had an appointment with the family for another massive lunch and exercise seemed a good idea.


The village is certainly dolled up. I liked the severe anti-theft window bars softened in their intensity by a neat window box of blooms.


Sometimes, looking at this ancient hill towns it's hard to know if it was convenient to build up or done as a means of self defense.


And it was a long way up...


This was the splendid view across southern Umbria from the base of the stepped walkway up the village. Te house below is for sale, two units, garage, and vegetable garden with mature vines.My wife wanted it for Santa Restituta got under her skin


Little wonder really as the ancient winding steps keep cars far away and the silence was deafening.


"Take a picture of that door!" she commanded, so I did.


The is not a whole lot of traffic outside the village either.


And should any marauding Visigoths show up the town walls are still quite sturdy.


We saw this young mother walking around in endless circles doing the pedestrian equivalent of driving her infant to sleep in the car. She did look weird walking around and around in silent, precisely repetitious circles.


Santa Restituta is restored and cleaned up inn all the details.


Despite the steep hill or perhaps because of it, the village has a unique appeal. For me not least because no one knows me here half way between Terni and my sisters' homes.





Walking back down the hill we met three residents of the village and we chatted a while, at least I did while my wife smiled in Anglo-incomprehension. They lamented the cold dark wet winters and agreed it was a fine place to retire.


We talked about the economic crisis in. Italy and the US and spent cheerful half hour lamenting the passing of the easy recent past.


Time to ride.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Monday, July 25, 2011

Riding Le Marche

You've heard of Tuscany which is much larger and more varied than my native Umbria which in turn is better known than the region to the northeast of Umbria along the Adriatic coast. That would be the mountainous and relatively isolated region known in English as The Marches, translated from the Italian Le Marche (pro: mar-Kay).


Mountainous yes, but also lots of rolling hills, agriculture and beautiful views. There is also some excellent riding on rolling hill roads. I loved the 1200 ST on these sweeping roads and Giovanni remarked on my perfect lines through the turns. It was really excellent riding.


We had to get the paper GPS out from time to time to find our way to the tiny town of Pollenza where Rossana had discovered a fascinating and privately owned Vespa scooter museum.


It was a hot day and we set aside our jackets in our huge, fuss-free BMW bags.


The countryside rolled by and my wife had a ball playing with the camera as we rode.


Until we finally reached a coffee stop in the curiously named town of Cingoli (caterpillar tracks, as found on a tank). One more lovely Italian hill town.


Te coffee was welcome and Rossana our self appointed tour guide hustled us into the medieval church where I accidentally stepped on the white carpet and got a dressing down from an old hag in the back pew. She turned put to be the grandmother of the bride and took umbrage at me clumping on the pristine carpet. The encounter rather inclined me against Cingoli (pro: cheen-go-lee), but Rossana got it into her head we should stay to see the bride.


The wedding party showed up persuading the bulk of our party it was time to go, but Rossana is stubborn at times and it took the local cop telling us we were in a no parking zone to get her to shift.


We bugged out in short order not least because it was getting to be afternoon and we had a long way to go home, even after we found the wretched museum.


Curve followed curve and I had fun shifting up and down, taking the corners as they came with the ST which felt like a bicycle it was light through the turns.


Finally we pulled up at Pollenza a small town near the provincial capital of Macerata.


The unknown Vespa museum was just a few steps away.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad