That's me, a dumbstruck tourist with a Ducati. The Ducati Diavel to be exact. Fresh off a Vespa pushing 22 horsepower to a power cruiser with an additional 140 horsepower. That's 162 horsepower for those of you who ride K bikes.
This was how an evening ride with the owner of Kissell Motorsports began a few months ago.
Actually this ride began many months before that when Craig Kissell announced the new Ducati and suggested he and I should take a ride together and take notes. Sounded like a plan to me.
We left the shop with Craig on the Multistrada and me on the Diavel. The last time I was on a Ducati was a ride on the Hypermotard. Another experience in the meaning of contrast between a Vespa and something with power far beyond my imagination. I'd read about the Diavel and forged a healthy respect in my head. It seemed to be an engine on wheels, and one of those wheels, the rear one, was eight inches wide.
I chose to start with the Diavel figuring I would face my fears and inadequacies right away, and also take advantage of the freeway leg of our ride -- smooth pavement with gently sweeping curves. The easiest landscape to ride. At some point it occurred to me that Craig might be checking up on me after having woken up in the middle of the night wondering what possessed him to just start giving me motorcycles to ride. He needed to see first hand that a Vespa rider could handle something that required more than twisting a throttle. If he did have concerns he never voiced them.
If someone had asked me to describe the Ducati experience at that moment I would have said, "Powerful, finicky, mechanical." When you are riding a Ducati you know you are on a machine. That's how I felt after the Hypermotard. And all the Ducati riders I knew would get a faraway look in their eyes when they talked about their motorcycles and the sounds they made.
I expected more of the same with the Diavel.
I was wrong.
Craig Kissell is pretty laid back. At least he seems that way when you seem him at the shop or out in public. He seems that way when he rolls an expensive motorcycle out of the showroom, hands me the keys and says to have fun. I've watched him talk with customers in the same easy manner that we talk. He lets you decide what you like and what you don't. I didn't think I would like the Diavel. He didn't care, just said to write whatever I wanted. I suppose he knows everyone has favorite motorcycles and others they don't care for.
We had less than two hours to ride. Not enough time to ride, sit down and share opinions and have me take any kind of notes that would be a rigorous comparison of the two Ducati motorcycles. So I'll just share my general response to both. If you want to know what Craig thinks stop by and see him.
The Diavel was one of the smoothest motorcycles I have ever ridden. Shockingly so. And the engine sound and smoothness was definitely un-Ducati like in my estimation, misguided as it is. And the bike was powerful, fast, comfortable and easy to ride. After 25 miles I was smiling and pleasantly surprised by the performance. No bad words from me about this bike though definitely not something that fits into my riding life.
Now it was my turn on the Multistrada, a Ducati that I had my eye on for a long time, one that I felt would definitely fit into my riding life. A mile down the road and I'm telling myself, "This is a Ducati". Touchy power, the mechanical clatter I associate with a Ducati engine, and a harsher suspension than I expected. Riding a Vespa GTS spoils you when I comes to road comfort.
We got back to Kissell Motorsports at closing time in a rush, a rush that those two motorcycles embraced easily. Before I pass judgment on the Multistrada I need to ride it a bit longer. And take a few more pictures.
Until then, all I can say for sure, is that riding a Ducati is fun.
This is the 2012 BMW K1600 GTL that Kissell Motorsportsprovided me with to find out what a Vespa rider thought of this serious touring motorcycle. I made this picture later in the evening after a few hours of riding. I had to sit down for a minute and compose my thoughts, think about where I would ride in the morning, and wonder how I had come in a short period of time to think it wasn't such a big motorcycle after all.
This isn't really a review of the bike. That will come in the next installment. This is just our first date.
Craig Kissell doesn't offer these motorcycles lightly, especially something as expensive and complicated as the K1600. Arriving after work I saw a group of machines in the parking lot near the bike. Nate Mattern, sales manager for Kissell Motorsports, and I had planned to ride together for awhile and compare notes. I thought they were going to have me ride the pink Vespa until I realized Nate would eventually have to take a turn with it. Not that I have anything against pink machines, my mountain bike is a more subdued version of pink, but I really didn't want to have to manage a 150cc machine against a six cylinder powerhouse like the BMW.
Nate and I discussed routes, time limitations for him, and decided I would ride a BMW R1200 RT during the first leg of our trip. I would take the lead so I control stops for pictures, set the pace, and generally make sure I didn't embarrass myself with an official representative of Kissell Motorsports. I wanted to be able to do more reviews in the future.
I'd never ridden with Nate before but knew enough about him that I'd convince myself he would be uncomfortably fast on the road and I'd spend all my time wondering which way he went. It was bad enough that he's a Ducati owner and rider, a gonzo mountain biker, (I've not met a slow Ducati rider yet) but he's also a commercial pilot having flown for a number of commercial carriers.
Pilots are all about speed right?
So I thought it best for my image that I stay in front.
We left town in a hurry heading west on US 322. Sailing over Skytop I was cruising at 75mph with Nate in the distance in my mirrors. The RT was smooth and I felt almost no transitional weirdness from the Vespa. It's easy to understand why riders like them.
It was a bright, clear evening and we owned the road. That bubble burst as a Burgman 650 cruised by us like it was nothing for the rider in shirt sleeves and dress pants to commute home at 80mph. For a moment I considered turning the throttle but I had Nate to worry about. It's what you do when you're in the lead.
First stop at a familiar road cut on the way to Philipsburg. The GTL isn't that much bigger looking than the RT but to my eye it has a sportier look to it. The topcase and big rear seating area does place it squarely in the tourer world but it still looked sleek. Nate and I talked a bit and he shared his thoughts on the fly-by-wire throttle and how different it felt from conventional throttle cable systems. I held my tongue and didn't ask what he was talking about. I figured I would find out soon enough.
I turn off into a gravel parking area near Black Moshannon State Park, in part to take a few pictures and in part to make sure if someone is going to drop the K1600 Nate can go first. You can't tell in the picture but the gravel is loose. And it raises the question of how I am thinking about the motorcycles. The RT seems completely manageable and not much different than riding my Vespa, something which indicates a mastery on my part of motorcycles or a wildly unreasonable idea of how big the K1600 really is.
For now, let's go with the idea that I'm a really great rider.
Nate shared with me later that he swallowed hard when I turned off into the gravel. He's smiling in the picture because I think he thought I would be taking my turn on the big bike.
I told him I wanted to ride the RT a little longer. What I should have said was that I wanted to ride to a paved swap point.
The moment finally arrives where I'm going to take the new machine. Nate's pilot training surfaces as he begins a fluid expression of a K1600 checklist outlining every feature and mode on this seriously equipped motorcycle. I didn't exactly quit listening but my brain quit accepting data as he was running through the various computer controlled riding modes.
So I didn't seem ungrateful I asked Nate to show me how to get the K1600 on the centerstand. There is always a trick and he showed it to me. I wouldn't want to try it in gravel or on soft ground but it wasn't all that difficult.
We also discussed the sensitivity of the throttle and Nate urged caution for a few miles as I got used to how touchy it could be. It didn't take long to appreciate the advice. He talked about his preferences leaning towards impractical motorcycles like his Ducati 696 or his favorite the Ducati Hypermotard 1100 EVO. Fast, powerful, but not possessing much utilitarian value.
The BMW K1600 GTL is designed to meet utilitarian needs. "Honey, I'm going to the store to get a loaf of bread. Then I'm going to swing by Seattle and be home." This is the machine for that kind of quick trip. Nate has to get back and we head down the mountain towards home.
Sitting on the bike I can sense the greater mass. Or at least I've been telling myself this for the past hour. The throttle is sensitive and the power response is instantaneous. Sloppy throttle work won't be appreciated on this bike. After a few miles the bike and the throttle seem to merge with my body. I'm not pushing anything but it's kind of a marvel how easy it is to ride.
Nate heads back to the shop and I turn towards home. I stop on campus for another picture and think about where I'm going to ride in the morning.
The first date was almost over and with only 50 miles on the BMW I wanted a second. At this early point I already knew a few things.
1. Without a doubt this was the smoothest motorcycle I have ever ridden. Engine, road feel, everything. An engineering marvel.
2. It's surprisingly nimble for a big touring motorcycle.
3. The fly-by-wire throttle takes a little time to acquire the right touch but once you do it is a pleasure to use.
4. It's not my Vespa. No room for sloppy handling. Too much mass to think you can muscle this around. It requires a rider who pays attention and understands what it means to manage this kind of weight.
5. If I were buying a touring bike, this would be it. I like the BMW R 1200 RT but this K bike is in a different league.
I'll be posting more involved review of the BMW K1600 GTL in the next week or so. I have been letting the story simmer for awhile but it's time to write it down.
If you can't wait stop by and have Craig or Nate show you the bike.
Whenever I leave my Vespa for service at Kissell Motorsports I didn’t really know what was happening to it or who was doing the work. The scooter would be left behind and then, as if by magic, it would be returned with whatever mechanical needs addressed. For some people that would be enough. I got it into my head that I wanted to know the people who were evaluating my machine, turning the wrenches, and actually working on the Vespa. Or maybe I had a desire to enter the Employees Only realm, pull the curtain aside, and become part of the secret world of motorcycle service. So I suggested to Craig Kissell that it would be a good idea for me to interview the technicians, put a human face on that part of his business. About six weeks ago I took a step over the line and told Tom that I was going to interview him.
Meeting your mechanic is sort of like going to the dentist. You know you have to go but you’re afraid of what he’s going to say. They have a special power of life and death over motorcycles and scooters and I treat them accordingly. Something short of a blood sacrifice. My friend Paul would offer a box of Dunkin Donuts. I completely drop the ball and show up with a camera and the voice recorder in my iPhone.
One thing I tell would be riders when asked the ago old question, “What kind of scooter or motorcycle should I buy?” is to buy something you can have serviced by a local mechanic. Everyone can define local in his or her own way. For instance, BMW riders feel a local mechanic is someone within a day’s ride. So about 1000 miles. My definition puts them a bit closer. Either way, make sure you have a mechanic who can work on your bike before you buy it.
Having a good mechanic means more time to ride and less time involved in transporting a bike around. No one needs to remind me about the notion of spare bikes.
So I’m talking to Tom, trying to act cool and knowledgeable and hoping he doesn’t remember my unfortunate attempt to change the drive belt on my LX150. Detecting no smirks I move ahead with the interview. He’s putting a new, high performance exhaust system on a shiny red Ducati.
STEVE: So, how did you become a mechanic?
TOM: Everyone in my family is a mechanic. I started when I was five years old. My brothers and dad taught me. That’s how I learned about engines and stuff. I went to the Motorcycle Mechanics Institute in Arizona to get the credentials.
(At this point I’ve run out of questions. Tom seems content and isn’t offering anything more. Just as I prepare to wind up the interview he continues.)
TOM: My dad’s blind. He’s the local lawn mower repairman and is pretty good at listening to engines and fixing them by what he hears.
STEVE: How does listening fit into motorcycle repair?
TOM: You feel things through listening. The sounds tell a story. I end up making a lot of motorcycle noises.
(He starts making some remarkably mechanical sounds.)
TOM: That’s a Ducati.
(I hear a couple snickers from other guys in the shop and wonder if I am about to be the punch line to a joke. Tom must have sensed my complete and utter mechanical incompetence and would believe anything he said.)
TOM: Like those guys on CarTalk, Click and Clack, they’re always asking people to make the noise their car is making.
(He makes another noise that sounds like a transmission problem.)
TOM: You can figure out a lot of things about a problem if you learn to listen carefully. It’s not all about computers. That’s where the passion comes in. For a mechanic to diagnose a problem he often needs to hear the sound, whether it’s a clank clank clank, a clunk clunk clunk or a boing boing boing. That’s where my noise making comes from.
(The other guys in the shop have stopped what they were doing as if something was about to happen when one of them tells me to ask him about Karl. Tom stops what he’s doing and his face transforms into another person, someone I recognize but can’t quite remember until he suddenly breaks into a perfect rendition of Karl Childers, the character made famous by Billie Bob Thornton in SlingBlade.)
TOM: I like them French fried potaters.
If you don't know of Sling Blade check out the video below. The main character, Karl, is an engine expert, hence the connection to a mechanic:
(Everyone cracks as he continues. Standing in the shop I feel like I have entered a David Lynch film and look around for Frank Booth. After a couple minutes of Sling Blade I ask another question.)
STEVE: What’s the easiest bike to work on here?
TOM: A Triumph is probably the easiest bike to work on. Straightforward, simple, reliable engineering. But my favorite bike to work on is a Ducati. I love the sound, the feel, the passion that goes into their creation. Every nut and bolt and fastener is well thought out and engineered. Every connection and cable and wire is chosen with excellence in mind.
(He begins speaking in tongues.)
TOM: There’s nothing like the sound of a Ducati.
(He shows me the new exhaust he’s installing on a Ducati 1198S.)
TOM: These pipes are all hand made stainless steel.
STEVE: I think they’re the same diameter as the exhaust on my Ford Ranger.
TOM: Come on, let me show you something.
(We head across the shop and go outside. I’m trying to think how to segue from the Ducati to the Vespa as we stop in front of a Ducati 796 with a newly installed exhaust system. I can tell he’s passionate about motorcycles and what makes them tick.)
STEVE: So, what should riders be thinking about now that’s its spring. What should they be doing to get ready to ride?
TOM: Well, other than checking the air in their tires they should have done everything last fall when they stored their bike for the winter. This time of year I’m busy with carb cleaning and spark plug changes because gas was left in the motorcycle over the winter and when they started it up things got fouled.
STEVE: What do you suggest?
TOM: If you did leave the gas in all winter it would be a good idea to drain the float bowl before you try and start the motorcycle. Because once you try and burn that bad gas, well….
(I’m still trying to move the conversation towards the Vespa when it dawns on me that maybe Tom rides one himself!)
STEVE: What do you ride?
TOM: I have a SuperMoto conversion bike, a Honda XR650R liquid cooled Baja bike. (To some this bike is known as the biggest, baddest dirt bike ever) I put on Supermoto wheels, made it road legal, custom suspension, new bars and bar ends, lowered the front…
(I’m wondering what he must think of the scooter I’m riding. Just outside the shop door are a lot of Ducati motorcycles. BMWs, Triumphs, and Vespa scooter too. Just in case you need one.)
TOM: It’s the bike I always wanted; I like the dual sport, moto bikes. Sometimes I wish I would have waited for the Hypermotard but the one I have is great. Light, flickable. A SuperMoto bike is ideal for the kind of back roads we have here in central Pennsylvania.
(He’s putting a muffler on the Ducati and I’m looking around, searching for a way to bring up the Vespa.)
TOM: I can’t believe how many miles you put on your Vespa. Not many people do that.
(As if by magic my spine has straightened. I think I hear trumpets echoing in the distance.)
STEVE: It’s a good machine. It’s been pretty reliable.
TOM: You make sure it’s serviced properly. That makes a big difference.
STEVE: Yeah. You guys do a good job with it.
(And that’s how we ended the interview.)
I got to finally talk with one of the mechanics at Kissell Motorsports for more than a minute or two. When I was riding the BMW R100 GS last week Tom personally checked it out and provided his assessment of the bike – a big thumbs up. When I returned it he seemed as surprised as everyone else that I was going to remain a scooter rider.
I’ve never ridden a motorcycle with a sidecar. I've read about them. Follow the Redleg's Rides blog and Dom's adventures on Ural sidecar rig. And Ara’s adventures with his dog spirit on Oasis of the Soul have created a myth of riding across the country with my dog. A lot of information floating around my head with absolutely no first hand experience. Seems I am constantly reviewing things as a beginner with no room to puff and strut. With a bit of nervous energy and apprehension I approached the rig.
After I saw this picture I went to Wal-Mart for a haircut. The kind you get with a number 3 red clipper attachment that takes only three minutes.
Dom sent me a link to the online bible of sidecars and suggested I read it before venturing out and killing myself. Well, I don’t think he put it that bluntly but the meaning was plain. So the night before I knew I would be stepping up to take the rig for a spin I went through the bible. Most of it common sense. And the rest incidental to a slow rider like myself.
Arriving at Kissell Motorsports after work I parked my Vespa in the place it belonged and wandered out front where the Piaggio MP3 and sidecar rig was sitting not far from a visiting Zeppelin.
Standing straight, gut pulled in, acting cool I climbed aboard the MP3 and promptly smashed the visor of my new Shoei helmet into the windshield of the rig. It hit me so hard that all the pictures of it were out of focus and I am irrationally opposed to posting any soft focus images.
But try to picture this. The owner had mounted a very tall windshield and then using heat (or something) bent the top back so it would cover his head like a small roof. When I saw it I chuckled but had to admit that it might be nice in the rain. What I failed to consider was the guy must have been five feet tall. After whacking my head and spending a few minutes trying to position myself on the seat in a manner where my helmet wasn’t hitting the shield. Anyone watching probably assumed Mr. Bean was in town and looking at a new toy.
A tribute to ingenuity I figured out that I could lean out to the left beyond the windshield and ride just fine. This new kind of rig that I had never ridden before. A few hundred yards up the road convinced me I’m an idiot and I turned around to tell Craig Kissell I couldn't ride this thing because of the windshield.
Unfazed, I think I detected a slight smile, he asked one of the technicians to take off the windshield.
In the shop Justin made quick work of the windshield and installed the factory shield that the previous owner returned when he traded in the MP3 rig.I wandered around looking at the Triumphs and Ducatis wondering what I was doing with this contraption. I thought about my heroes. Pee Wee Herman. My friend Howard. The Highlander. What would they do? Justin tells me I’m good to go. I’m thinking about immortality.
Before I leave I had to photograph the rig with the big Victory bike. Not sure which was less appealing. I will say for the first time I rode away from Kissell's without worrying about wrecking the bike. I figured I would be doing Craig a favor.
I felt like I was sailing in a storm, constantly fighting to keep the thing on course, feeling each wheel had a mind of it’s own. At 35mph I fully expected the rig to fly off the road on into oncoming traffic and my wife could begin spending the life insurance. With much concern and careful navigation I made it home in the dark. Then I realize the little spot in the garage where I park the Vespa isn’t big enough for this monster. And I am not about to clean out the garage. So I pull it up against the garage door, pull the truck right up behind it and the VW to the side so unless someone picks it up and carries it this machine is going nowhere.
6am. With renewed energy and the power of a gloomy day I ask Junior if he wants to go for a ride. Don’t let the smile on his face fool you. It took a handful of dog biscuits and a few minutes to get him in the sidecar. Good training meant he would stay there for a picture but he was far too smart to go for a ride. And I would not take him either for a couple reasons. The sidecar was far too small for him.
After some experimentation I realized the rig was more stable than it felt. It tracked pretty well and after several miles I was comfortable at 45mph on the narrow back roads.One of the immediate problems was stopping along the road to take pictures.The rig is almost as wide as a car so it’s not easy to tuck it into places. With a lot of winter gravel still on the roads the extra stability was readily available. With that in mind I turned off onto the first gravel road I could find.
The rig handled pretty well on the packed surface but wandered around in the loose stuff.And because of the way the MP3 mounts to the sidecar, the MP3 angled slightly towards the sidecar, I felt like I was always sliding off.Moving into the mountains of Rothrock State Forest I found a lot of hard wet ice still on the roads. The rig stays upright but more than once I was losing traction. Not far from where I made this picture I turned around before finding myself stuck or worse.
By late morning my stomach took over and I stopped at the Pump Station in Boalsburg for something to eat. Parking wasn’t a problem because I could just swing the rig around. But pushing the MP3 with the sidecar around on level ground was a chose. Don’t even think about it on a hill. I guess you learn to anticipate such things.
The good news is that I figured out the rig was stable. I even began to enjoy riding it a bit. The bad news for this one was with the throttle wide open all I could manage was a bit under 55mph on flat open roads. Fine for exploring and touring around on back roads but I would definitely not want to ride on the freeway. Sidecar as conversation starter? Hardly. This runner didn’t bat an eye as he went past. And no one said a word about it wherever I stopped which sort of surprised me since it looked so, well, unusual. I might have well been invisible.
On the bright side it meant my ego didn’t take any hits either.
One more short tour on a dirt road. If this thing had a shiny side to it I would have to say it was off the pavement. Not off-road, just on less than perfect surfaces. But in the end this setup took what is perhaps the most stable machine I have ever ridden (Piaggio MP3) and turned it into the most unstable thing I have ever ridden. Back to Kissell Motorsports.
I’m glad I got to ride the rig and also glad I could give it back. In my book it was just work to ride and while I chalked up the bad handling and performance to the weirdness of the MP3 sidecar combination someone with more experience with sidecars assured me that what I was describing is how sidecars and motorcycles respond. One big, hot mess. Feel free to pipe in if your experiences say otherwise. I’ll just say I admire all you sidecar rig captains.
This is Craig Kissell and he’s smiling because someone bought the rig. Different strokes and all. Or sidecars could be an acquired taste. Maybe someone can tell me what I’m missing.
For now, I'm happy to be back on the Vespa. And the weather is getting warmer too!
My local Vespa dealer (and BMW, Triumph, Ducati, Aprilia, and Piaggio) Kissell Motorsports is moving. I stopped by their new location to have a look and get a feel for the new space. At lunchtime on Friday the place was a flurry of activity as contractors and Kissell staff worked to have the new location in business on October 1st.
Their old location is adjacent to Penn State’s Blue Course and will soon become part of the Penn State golf system. A win for Penn State and a win I think for Kissell customers because the trip out North Atherton offers a lot more opportunity for food and drink to go along with motorcycle and scooter shopping. I already know Starbucks will see an increase in my business as I ride to Kissell Motorsports’ new home.
Head technician Tim was busy moving shelving, parts and other equipment so he and his colleagues can continue to offer expert service for my Vespa. And I suppose other machines too.
The shop area looks like a great work area. Bright, lots of light, and plenty of space to work in. I’ll have to take another peek when they are set up.
After Craig Kissell showed me around the place it was back to moving tires. I probably should have lent a hand but I had to take pictures. Alas, the life of a photographer. I looked around at the tires they had moved looking for some nice, aggressive tires for my Vespa to get me through the winter. They must be coming on another truck.
The showroom is impressive, even in this early stage. The concrete floor was stained dark with a high gloss clear coating applied on top to produce a jewel-like surface. Motorcycles and scooters will look nice on that floor. At the far side of the room near the large windows will be a carpeted area for the BMWs. The whole layout sounds great and on Monday they’ll start moving the motorcycles.
Painters were hard at work enhancing the appearance of the building. I kept my Vespa at a safe distance to avoid any overspray. I’m not really sure why I care since I haven’t washed it in almost two years. Tomorrow though I plan to give it a bath.
Landscape contractors were at work cleaning up the site and I expect the next time I stop by I’ll hardly recognize the place.
Make a note to stop out on October 1st and take a look at Kissell’s new home. They are out on North Atherton Street just across the street from Midas Muffler.
We've had a lot of snow this month and most of it is still piled around. The hemlock trees in the front yard aren't as full as they were when I made this picture last week but snow still hangs in the branches. Work, the dog, and the weather have taken a huge bite out of my riding opportunities and I feel the lack of road time. A nervous energy, an anticipation, a pacing grows in my spirit. This past Friday evening Kissell Motorsports was celebrating the addition of BMW motorcycles to their line of European machines and were unveiling the new BMW S 1000RR. What better opportunity to ride than to an event like this.
Photography was not much on my mind so forgive the incidental images. Attention was directed on the road, the night, and the challenges presented when snow, ice and subfreezing temperatures demand a different sort of rider attention. On the way home from work in the truck I paid close attention to the road surface in a manner that the average cager doesn't need to. Sporatic spots of ice, snow and salt ladden water don't mean the same thing when you are using four wheels.
I stopped on the way to Kissell's to take one more look at the road surface, guage the traffic, and give myself one last opportunity to turn around and go home. Standing under the streetlight I realized what I was doing, I could feel my senses sharpening, eyes scanning for riding dangers, thoughts working out handling plans and contingencies, I was moving into winter rider mode.
I understand the incredulous reactions of other riders to this activity. For those who are nervous about riding at night in good weather they are doubly opposed to it when there is a certainty of slippery stuff. Judged from a perspective of recreational riding this activity is simply nuts. And I have considered it so more than once or twice.
Riding in the winter is special and for me the payoff is in the complete focus it delivers. I suspect it is similar to what accomplished athletes find in their individual sports. Everything not important to the task at hand is stripped away and I find a purity of purpose and spirit. Is it worth the risk (and it does exist)? Each rider has to make their own decision. There is not right or wrong answer here. It's personal.
The Vespa GTS 250ie was the only two wheeled vehicle outside the doors of Kissell Motorsports. Their parking lot still had some big patches of smooth ice. Not the sort of surface you want to come flying into. Definitely the kind of obstacle that a rider must plan for when riding at night in the winter.
Even when all the snow is gone and the roads are dry there are many reasons why you might encounter ice. There always seems to be someone washing their car in the winter who drives off leaving nice icey tire tracks on the road. And now, with so much snow still around I encountered several instances of show piles on the road courtesy of drivers who don't clear their vehicles of snow before leaving home.
At night I have to make a lot of adjustments. Apologies to everyone else on the road. I leave my high beam on. I just need to see the road ahead. Curiously no one ever flashes me. Maybe it is not as bright as I think it is. And the scanning process that takes place during the day is more furious at night. And I anticipate potential problems and make use of lane adjustments, speed and stopping more often. The ride is not about moving from point A to point B as smoothly and quickly as possible. It is about being as careful, prudent and safe as possible. A very different ride.
Events were already underway when I arrived. After grabbing a hot dog I made my way around to a vantage point where I could see the BMW S1000 RR when it would be revealed. A lot of people turned out to see the new line of motorcycles. With the Canon G9 in one hand and a hot dog in the other I waited.
Moments after the box was removed and before people queued up to take a closer look and sit on the bike. I'm amazed at the sophistication of the motorcycles today. The two-stroke dirt bike I road in the 1960s seems like a toy in comparision. A junky toy.
There were new BMWs everywhere in a maze of machinery. I made mental notes of the ones I would fantasize about.
The BMW R1200 GS bikes were very nice. I can see myself with one of those. I've sent away for plans for a new garage.
Dan Leri owns, I think, a BMW RT1200. He's sitting here trying to decide which bike to buy his wife for Valentine's Day. I think that's what he was doing.
My friend Paul Ruby was standing in the corner playing with his iPhone. He's addicted and in search of a 12-step group. The place where people say "I'm powerless over my iPhone and my life has become unmanageable". Paul has a BMW X Moto 800(?). All I know is it seems to be the tallest motorcycle I have ever ridden.
I plan to return to look the new motorcycles over more carefully. When my mind isn't preoccupied with the ride home. The obstacles, the risks. The smart man would return by the same safe route found earlier in the evening right?
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.
