Triumph Thunderbird Conversion

In my dreams the road goes on forever.

I gravitate towards empty roads and places off the beaten path. Standing in the middle of old Route 220, once a place of pandemonium and aggressive drivers, I feel at home. And also a bit surprised at how A few weeks ago I sat on a motorcycle outside Kissell Motorsports. I found myself at the beginning of an unexpected conversion. A dedicated Vespa rider enthralled with a big cruising bike. The Triumph Thunderbird.

It's been almost a month since I had the Thunderbird. Enough time to sort out feelings and reactions to the biggest, heaviest motorcycle I've ridden in a long time. I expected a slow, lumbering, unresponsive ride. What I found was a remarkably nimble and easy to handle machine. The engineers at Triumph would probably cringe to read what I am about to say -- I found myself thinking more than once "This feels like my Vespa.". With the Triumph Thunderbird sitting along the road while I try and figure out the best angles for photographs it looks nothing like a Vespa.

I left early one morning for what would become a hundred mile short ride. Patches of fog were scattered through the valley producing areas of limited visibility and wet pavement. While making this picture I noticed the prominence of the exhaust system. Big pipes for the big almost 100 cubic inch parallel twin engine produce a deep rumble. Not too loud and not at all obnoxious. Something I can't say about most of the big cruisers that pass through my neighborhood, especially the ones that operate between 2am and 7am. Moving mechanical obnoxious alarm clocks. But I digress.

The exhaust tone of the Thunderbird reminds me of the growl of a big, mean dog. You know he's big and he does too. No need for any barking.

I confess limited experience on big cruisers. Or anything with two wheels weighing close to 750 pounds. Call me crazy but I always take new bikes to some empty parking lot for some experimentation. Not to see what the bike can do but to determine how little I know. The Mount Nittany Middle School has a nice big lot that supports all sorts of turns, swerves, quick braking, U-turns and anything else you might want to try. In less than 30 minutes imagined myself comfortable and at home on the Triumph. A quick stop for a picture in the fog and I was off to meet my friend Larry for breakfast.

Anyone who's followed Scooter in the Sticks knows a lot of my riding is slow-paced and riddled with numerous stops for pictures. A motorcycle has to be easy to manuever, run smoothly at slow speeds, and allow for quick on and offs. The Thunderbird engine and transmission produced extremely smooth riding at any speed, was agile at even the slowest speeds, and was simple to park almost anywhere. Stopped to photograph a tunnel of trees in the fog I was wondering if the Triumph and I would be a good fit. With the addition of some saddle bags for my camera and gear I could ride this machine anywhere.

A lot of riders don't understand the slow traveling part of riding. They want to get somewhere fast, ride along with a group, or just can't get their head or their hand to agree to speeds that are more akin to bicycle riding. But once the speedometer passes 25mph it is amazing how hard it is to react to things in the landscape. I might just be slow in the head but by the time my brain recognizes something of interest it's already behind me at higher speeds. And I resist turning around just to look or take a picture. I was sitting on the Thunderbird at about 30mph when I noticed the fog strewn across the farm. I don't want to miss this stuff.

I was getting hungry but still would stop to examine some odd detail along the road. The road surface was wet from an early fog but the Thunderbird offered no trouble or complaints as I moved along. The riding position on this bike was near perfect for me. An upright seating position, bars that were wide and just right for me, and foot pegs that seemed to be exactly where my body thought they should be. Both rear footbrake and shifter lever were easy to find and use. Something I can't say for every bike I've ridden where they seem small and hard to manage with the standard issue scooter clod hoppers I wear courtesy of Wolverine Boots.

Fog strouded the Sunset West Diner in Pleasant Gap. It looked like something out of Twin Peaks. Very odd. The Triumph looked appropriate in the lot. It is a handsome motorcycle. Triumph does an outstanding job of producing machines with classic lines. For anyone wanting a big cruiser with elegant lines and complete functionality this is worth looking at. Twice.

Fat and happy from my standard breakfast fare it was time to see how the Thunderbird performed in it's more traditional role as a highway cruiser. Jump on Interstate 99, twist the throttle and watch the needle on the speedometer leap to 80 in no time. All similarities to my Vespa evaporate on the freeway. With so much power, torque, and a smooth, stable ride at any speed I was willing to travel. Even the windblast in my chest seemed stable.

Central Pennsylvania is a beautiful place to ride. The views along the highway can, at times, be breathtaking. Looking at the Triumph I can easily imagine riding it anywhere in America.

The single guage on the tank is a model of simple design and complex function. In addition to the big speedometer a button on the right-hand grip allowed me to toggle through a variety of functions like fuel level, mileage remaining, clock, trip meter and more. And there was a readout for RPMs too but I wasn't concerned about that. Between the engine sound and it's ability to pull at any speed in any gear I didn't pay much attention to how fast things were spinning around. I was just having a fine time riding.

The big gas tank was easy to put fuel in. Not something I would normally notice but for some reason it seemed easier to see what was happening as I added. With all these new bikes I worry about splashing gas all over pristine paint and chrome. Not a worry with this bike.

I stopped to visit with the Nittany Road Riders who were taking part in Chris Kepler's 7th Annual Pennsylvania Grand Canyon Ride. The Thunderbird was the lone cruiser in the group but I'm certain it would have no problems keeping up. I found myself wishing I could go along but duty called another direction.

Around town the Triumph Thunderbird continues to excel. Up and down alleys, backing into parking spaces, making U-turns -- whatever I asked the bike to do it complied without complaint. Or perhaps I should say my skills did. With solid riding skills on a small scooter or motorcycle the transition to the Thunderbird is simple. My limits were apparent and areas to practice more were as well.

I rode the Triumph to work on the last day I had it. Backing through a gap between a pickup truck and another bike and into one of the motorcycle spaces was far easier than I would have expected. Standing there before going to my office I wondered how I could have dismissed any interest in a cruiser style motorcycle. I had ridden them before. I can remember riding a Harley back in the 1970s. Maybe that was the problem. This wasn't the 70s and this bike was a 2010 Triumph Thunderbird.

I've been converted. There is a place in my garage for the Thunderbird. Figuratively speaking.

Snow, Dog, and My Lazy Ass

I can blame snow for lack of riding. Sort of. But not for not writing anything. Can I? I still have an essay on the Triumph Thunderbird I had a couple weeks ago. It's almost ready but I can't cross the goal line.

My hands are cold and I can't type well. How's that sound? Lame. I have been riding in the cold. One morning commute saw the temperature at 33 degrees Fahrenheit. I had to drag myself to the garage and put on the gear. My First Gear Kilimanjaro jacket lost it's zipper so the sealing from the wind is not so good. The electric gloves are working fine. I'm just tired. Not so tired that I didn't venture out in the recent snow to try and adjust my seasonal clock. I'm stuck in summer mode.

The dog. That's why I haven't been writing (or riding) more. I think. He sure does take a lot of energy. Both shoulders are sore from lofting tennis balls for this tireless beast. The Chuckit has helped propel the ball farther but so far my arms feel wrecked. Junior loves chasing those yellow balls.

The other morning I decided to end a ride short and just pulled into the Pump Station to relax and stare out the window. And have a breakfast sandwich. And tea. My body has been drained by too much exercise. I can barely type now. My lazy ass just wants to climb into bed. I suppose that's a good thing. I can't survive anymore on 3 or 4 hours sleep.

Gordon and I still get together once a week for the 3 Prints Project. Right now it should be the No Prints Project. I've shot some film but have not processed a thing in a month. Progress -- I did by new chemicals yesterday. It is nice to sit at Saints and make excuses.

Lots of tree branches came down in the unexpectedly early snowfall. Kim eyed some Curly Willow branches that she wanted. I loaded them on the roof of my truck and crawled home. I should have tied them to the back of the Vespa. Would have made a better picture.

Every morning at 5am Junior stirs and tries to get me moving. He doesn't flash me this sweet look because it's still dark but he has other tricks. I made this photo at the park on Friday. He sure loves, I mean loves, chasing tennis balls. It shows in his face.

PHOTO BY PAUL RUBY

My friend Paul made this picture at Barnes and Noble last night. I looked at it on the camera after he shot it and asked him to send it to me. It's a reminder that I don't look as burned out as I feel. Maybe my expectations are skewed. Maybe it's ok to feel drained taking care of a big puppy.

Despite my whining all is well. It's good to get more exercise and the routine works for me. On Wednesday we begin dog college. Obedience Training. Owner Training. Opportunities to fail and look stupid. Junior is smarter than I am. I am here typing. He is lying at my feet sleeping.

Case closed.

Small Riding Accomplishments

Fall is my favorite riding season. Cooler temperatures coupled with light and color from a magic paint box make every curve in the road a visual feast. I can't help those of you who live in the flatlands where the roads are all straight.

Riding has collided with responsibility. New work responsibilities, old work responsibilities, a new dog, and all the other things I need or want to do shred my days and burn hours at a startling rate. Long rides seem impossible. That's why I've had to mentally regroup. There is much to gain in small rides.

On Saturday morning I had one hour to ride. Sixty minutes to embrace two-wheeled motion and see what would happen. As usual, the Vespa releases me from the weight of my thoughts and I'm in the flow of the ride. My focus shifts from things I have to do to what is happening right now, right in front of me. I move from my mind to my senses and the world gets brighter.

Stopped along the road taking in the tunnel of changing leaves I am grateful for a chance to be on the road.

Riding only 25 miles there is no shortage of places to see. I wandered into the woods at a place where Kim and I once found a Blood Root plant. Peering through the woods at the scooter I'm reminded of how little I stop when I am in the truck. The world exists only as destinations and I tend to ignore the journey from inside the cage.

I told a friend yesterday that I don't like group rides because they don't stop enough. I'm not happy with only food and bathroom breaks. I wonder at times if I would ride at all if the camera wasn't involved.

On a stop to peer out along the valley I noticed a salamander crossing the road. I think this one is a Wehrle’s salamander. Crouching on the road with my camera on the macro setting I wondered whether this guy was going to bite me. Amazing what passes through a head. And equally amazing how much detail I miss because I'm not paying attention.

I arrived home rested and recharged from a short, small ride. I had forgotten how good they are. As I typed this post I'd been wondering if it is worth the trouble to gear up and ride into town to meet my friend Gordon (3 Prints Project). The temperature is in the 30s and it's just a short distance.

Now that I remember my short little ride I am now going to head to the garage and fire up the Vespa.

Junior and the Thunderbird

PHOTO BY KIM DIONIS

Meet Junior -- the new canine addition to our family. Seventy pounds of Belgian Sheepdog energy. At 13 months of age he needs a lot of attention, training and love. Time that used to be spent on the road.

And this is a Triumph Thunderbird. The latest motorcycle to appear in my life. At over 700 pounds and nearly 100 cubic inches of engine is needs a lot of attention and training too.

Junior (named by the breeder we got him from) is a smart dog. He's waiting patiently with a minimum of pacing for me to finish this post and take him to the dog park for some tennis ball chasing. My right arm is useless. I have gotten pretty good throwing left-handed but that arm is fading fast.

The Thunderbird is the biggest bike I've ridden in a long time. If the Ducati was a racehorse this bike is like a draft horse. A big, gentle but powerful Percheron. Lots of pulling power.

My agricultural background informs my metaphors.

Junior wants to go. He's losing interest in the rawhide bone. And later I want to ride. So stay tuned for what develops with the Triumph Thunderbird.

Where Have All The Riders Gone?

Watch the temperature drop below 60 degrees and all the riders disappear. It's just the scooters at work. At least today. The leaves are falling and autumn is coming on with a vengeance. I've been busy at work and at home and time seems to evaporate.

For now I have to be content with my commute to work.

Ducati HyperMotard: Engineering Meets the Beginners Mind

I knew the HyperMotard was different by the way Craig Kissell was carefully describing how to best operate and ride the bike. Other employees and even one of the technicians weighed in with their opinions and stories of life on this particular Ducati. By the time I left Kissell Motorsports I had a list of cautions and riding procedures. I wasn't sure if this was standard operating procedure for anyone going out the door with a Ducati or if they felt this scooter rider might be in over his head. Whatever the reason for the first time I climbed onto a motorcycle nervous and uncertain of my skill. Anxious as if I were climbing aboard a Thoroughbred racehorse after years of pleasure riding on a gentle old mare.

Pausing along the road to look at the bike and make a few pictures I was reminded of the grace and power of this motorcycle. I was also reminded of my riding skill and experience and my habit of beginning slow. A beginners mind.

Ducati makes fine motorcycles. It only took a few moments to appreciate the engineering and craftsmanship that work together to create an avid following of riders. After familiarizing myself with the handling of the HyperMotard before sunrise in the parking lot of the Pennsylvania Military Museum I pulled over along a small gravel drive to make a photograph of the evaporating fog under a setting moon.

The Ducati is a powerful motorcycle. At 390 pounds and 90 horsepower it wants to go. Craig warned me that this is not a cruising bike and would complain when the RPMs dropped below 3000 rpm in the wrong gear. The Hypermotard just didn't feel right going slow and I could sense myself wanting to go faster. Definitely not designed for putting along looking for the next picture.

Fast traveling on roads like US 322 is simple. Turn the throttle and the Ducati leaps forward. Developing a sensitive touch on the throttle took a little practice. It's easy to imagine an inexperienced rider having trouble. A bit too much throttle and the bike feels as if it is trying to eject you backwards onto the road. Panic a bit and grab tight on the bars may only succeed in turning the throttle more and making matters worse. Years of careful control of power on my Vespa kept me in the safe zone.

To be completely honest I was nervous riding the HyperMotard, nervous beyond any passing thoughts of dropping an expensive new motorcycle dodging a chipmunk or some other unfortunate riding incident. On this bike I was concerned with the sheer power and how to manage it with the tools I have in my own riding experience toolbox. One thing frequent stops to make pictures does is to give a person a chance to assess what is going on. During this stop I realized I needed to apply the basics, all those simple skills and techniques that have served me well to manage risk. I may not be a beginner in terms of miles under my belt but I try to stay close to a beginners mind and show the respect a motorcycle and riding demands.

Appreciation of the landscape and a desire to capture it on film (you know what I mean) has that unintentional effect of slowing me down. I can't see the little details if I am flying down the road. It does indicate to me that control of the machine is only one part of the equation. Control of myself and the choices I make are just as important. Riding the Ducati I felt a constant pressure to go faster. The temptation is strong.

As empty as this road looks I have been surprised by geese, ducks, deer, dogs and fisherman appearing out of nowhere. I've passed many riders whose pace far outstrips my own faith that the fellow coming the other direction will do his part not to mention the critters who don't know there is a part to play.

I seem to be standing in or alongside the road more than traveling on it. While fishing the camera out of my riding jacket I heard a truck coming down the road and rounded this corner taking his lane out of the center of the road. When I photographed the red truck he was doing a bit better but not much. The HyperMotard thrives on diving into curves. It's here I have to balance what the bike and I can do against what seems prudent. We all set that line differently. The difference between my Vespa and the Ducati is how the more powerful machine seems to tempt a person towards the edge.

Just so I don't seem like a complete milktoast rider I did push the Ducati where it seemed prudent to do so. And after a couple hours of riding I felt as home on the bike as I do on my scooter. I had tested the brakes in a range of conditions and panic stops and I have to say that compared to anything I've ridden the front brakes on the Ducati startling in how they bite. I worked a bit to become accustomed to them just in case I needed to take advantage of all that stopping power.

At the end of the day I remain a tourist on two-wheels. Speed and performance are lost on me. My habits on the road find other traits more desireable. Still, the HyperMotard was smooth, powerful, and just an elegant piece of mechanical engineering. And given the right locations, skills and circumstances you could really have fun with one of these. I'm sure if Joe Paterno was a rider he would be running to get one.

The Ducati HyperMotard is fast and fun. Those two elements are a challenge to keep under control. If those things appeal to you, if you think you can't handle the potential at your fingertips then the Ducati may be the right motorcycle. For me, it offers too much and I fear my mind may be too weak to manage this bike responsibly. Besides, where would I carry my tripod?

Or in a couple months a Christmas tree??

Advanced, Experienced Riding Technique

NOTE: ***The following techniques should only be engaged in by advanced, experienced riders.***

Shortly after 7am I was on my way to work. Sleepy commuters at the wheels of their cages darted from lane to lane, competing for position as far ahead of each other as possible. Noticing fog over a field to my left, I moved into the left lane. The fog hung along the path of a small creek. I can always use one more fog picture.

Waiting at the traffic light by Hills Plaza, my attention shifted between the rear view mirror and the traffic light. I make it a habit to watch for competitive commuters approaching from the rear. The light turned green. I twisted the throttle.

Then it happened. Sudden loss of power. Engine running but no response when I work the throttle. I thumb the turn signal and move into the empty right lane when the engine cuts out. Rolling downhill, I coast through the next traffic light and make a right turn onto Branch Road. Twenty feet later, the scooter rolls to a stop. Instinct tells me: Take a picture.

My fuel gauge had stopped working a few weeks earlier, so I'd switched to one of the classic modes of fuel management: counting miles ridden since my last fill-up. After extensive and careful calculation, I had determined I could easily travel 100 miles between fuel stops with a 2.4 gallon tank. The trip odometer read 88 miles. I couldn't possibly be out of gas.

Stepping away from the Vespa, I began streaming data through my gourd like an engineer analyzing the Space Shuttle. With mini MagLite in hand, I removed the gas cap. I shined the light inside. Empty. Nothing. Even the fumes are gone. For the first time in my life (not counting lawn mowers) I have run out of gas.

This is where advanced technique comes into play. Two miles behind me is a gas station. Another mile ahead, uphill, is another. My mind moves into overdrive. Training turns it into a meat-based supercomputer seeking the answer to an age-old riding question -- "Who will save me now?"

Traffic is increasing as more people make their way to work. A light flickers in my head. My daughter and her husband travel this way to work. They may still be at home. They have a lawn mower. They have fuel.

Jason answers the phone. "Buhwah?"

Shit. He was sleeping. "Did I get you up?"

"It's the first time I said anything today." Now with perfect enunciation. I think of slow cranking in cold weather and chokes on carburetors.

A few minutes later I'm pouring 100 percent grade A lawn mower gas through a small funnel into the Vespa. Just a glassful and I'm off for some Exxon Supreme. At the Exxon station, the Vespa's 2.4-gallon tank gulps more than 2 gallons of fuel.

I ran out of gas. My calculations failed. But I faced a real life riding situation and I lived to tell of it. I'll look back on this one day and realize I'm a better man for it.

Additional Note: In my emotional state my wife Kim helped me make sense of this post and the experience.

Vespa GTS 300: The Town and Country Ride

That's me examining the Vespa GTS300 Super.

Going through some additional pictures recently it occurred to me (again) that this scooter is an exceptional, all-around vehicle for town and country riding. My own Vespa GTS 250ie is near perfect for daily commuting to work and for weekend rides in the 50 to 200 miles range so it was hard to imagine any real advantages of the newer and bigger scooter. But the extra power makes this Vespa a perfect town and country ride.

Anyone who has piloted a big motorcycle around town, pulling into parking spaces, running a quick errand, and repeating the process half a dozen times knows how tedious it can be to roll a heavy bike into a parking space. They aren't always as nice and open as the one in the picture above. The Vespa is so easy to maneuver that you can easily get the scooter into any available space with little effort. The only easier mode of transport in town would be a bicycle. Unfortunately I've never had as much fun on a bicycle as I do on a scooter.

The 300 isn't too big and it isn't too small. It's just right and easily blends into the urban and town environment. I appreciate the ease of stopping and putting the Vespa on the centerstand for pictures. Pop the seat open, grab a camera and go. That translates easily into a wide range of errands.

I've like the way a Vespa looks. The lines and styling almost make the scooter seem like a sculpture rather than something to ride. It makes a fine subject for pictures.

I took the Vespa through local streets and alleys, stopping and starting, parking, moving, U-turns, everything I could think of to try and find a maneuver that was just plain irritating. Verdict-- my only complaint was the absence of the rear rack and side bar that is standard with the GTS250. I like having the handle to hold onto when I throw the scooter up on the center stand.

You hear a lot about people noticing motorcycles and scooters. My experience is that those already interested in riding or machines may pause or ask a question. Everyone else, like the woman in the picture, passes by without a glance. Civilians don't seem much interested in two-wheeled machines. She does provide compositional balance to the picture as the Vespa stands illegally on the sidewalk in Calder Alley.

Out of town, on winding tree lined roads that climb over the mountains of central Pennsylvania this big Vespa goes as fast as any touring rider would want to go. While no road racer it's power and acceleration are surprising. For weekend rides through the country, rides in the 150 to 250 mile range are no problem on the Vespa 300 (or the 150 or 25o for that matter). My friend Paul shot this picture of me riding up the Unionville Pike.

On the way home I passed a BMW RT1100 sitting at a light as I passed through the intersection. I thought it might be my friend Dan so I pulled off the road and waited. Years ago Dan had a Vespa with a sidecar but now he's on a more luxurious ride. Sure enough he pulls up and we have a chance to compare notes between his BMW and the Vespa. Most people don't picture two machines as different as these as possible riding partners. They are completely different with different strengths and weaknesses but for an occasional, rleaxed weekend ride through the country there is no reasons these two can't play together fine.

The Vespa really isn't as small as it looks in this picture. Looks can be deceiving. Scooters are functional and useful. They may not be able to rocket you down the road at 100mph but the Vespa 300 will fly along all day on the roads of this region without a complaint --- in town or in the country.