My Dead Vespa

It happened today -- pressed the starter on the Vespa but it would not start. First thought was an empty fuel tank but that couldn't be true; I monitor fuel closely.

With Kissell Motorsports a mile away and pressure mounting to get back to work I made the call. Fifteen minutes later the scooter was on the back of a truck headed to the shop.

Good fortune had my friend Paul and his girlfriend Mary just down the road.

In a few minutes Paul was inspecting the Vespa and quickly found the spark plug lead had come off the plug. Worse, the end of the plug had come off and was lodge in the plug boot.

So the Vespa will get a new plug along with the 30K kilometer maintenance . I'll be ready for winter.

I'm posting from my iPhone using an app I've never used before so I'm unsure where the picture of Paul and Mary will appear.

Paul is serious with his inspections.

Should have the Vespa back soon.

The Simple Night Ride

 

The past two evenings I've found myself on the road at night and with it a renewed appreciation of riding.  Many riders tell me they don't ride at night -- too dangerous, too cold, or no fun.  I read in riding books about the misguided riders who venture forth at night, in the rain, or in cold weather. 

Make no mistake; the risk of riding at night is greater than it is during the day.

This evening I was sitting at the traffic light at the corner of Allen Street and Beaver Avenue in State College, Pennsylvania looking at the Christmas lights when I turned off the engine and pushed the Vespa up onto the sidewalk to make this picture.  And to look a bit longer at the lights.  Just long enough to be on my way before finding out that there is a law against having the scooter posing for pictures on the sidewalk.

Off into the night, a changing pattern of color and light as I made my way home, a visual treat that just doesn't exist during the day.

 

The night before I rode to the grocery store for supplies -- empty streets and a quiet parking lot.  The night air was crisp but not cold at 42F.  What struck me most was the tapestry of fragrances arise from the darkness offering an experience unique to the night.

Riding home through the smell of charred meat at the steakhouse and on past gasoline fumes from a busy island of gas pumps.  Passing through a tony section of State College my helmet filled with the acrid smell of coal -- someone burning coal for some unfathomable reason in a neighborhood.  I remembered the same smell from childhood driving through less tony neighborhoods in Mckees Rocks and Coraopolis.

Passing into the sticks I was greeted by the unmistakable smell of fermenting liquid cow manure from a nearby dairy farm, the farmer no doubt adding or withdrawing from a lagoon and releasing a reminder of food production.

At some point I shuddered for a moment, just a bit of excitement from my senses being roused to life, realizing (again) at how powerful a ride can be.  Walking into the house, skin warm, eyes bright and a spring in my step I was sure a grin was painted on my face.  

All courtesy of a simple night ride.

Becoming a URAL Adventurer

The 2012 URAL Patrol is a perfect drug for my addictive desire to explore.  With hand over my heart, I believe this thing will go anywhere I want to go and not lead to my untimely demise in the process. This conclusion was derived after 200 kilometers of experimentation on the road and some hours of mental gymnastics with my backside firmly ensconced in a big easy chair.

For those reading this review who have never ridden a motorcycle with a sidecar but plan to try one out in the future I offer these words of advice -- give it some time.  It's not what you expect and it's not a motorcycle.

The first day of riding consisted mostly of getting a feel for the machine on the road -- gaining asense of how wide it is so I didn't run the rig into a post or have it drop off the side of the road into a drainage hole.  With ample open roads around I had a lot of good practice routes.

One of the first things I noticed is that I would spans ditches along the side of the road or navigate uneven surfaces without trouble.  The motorcycle and sidecar wheel are far enough apart that I could negotiate obstacles or run through them without fear of falling or getting stuck.

 Last Sunday morning I left early to determine how well the URAL would perform on the endless miles of gravel roads in the Pennsylvania forests and what kind of gaps existed between the motorcycle and my riding skills.  This picture was made after about 10 miles of gravel.  Two things surfaced -- first, I felt a bit anxious when the URAL drifted left on uneven stretches of road or when the traction differences between loose gravel and hard packed gravel would cause the machine to move one direction or the other.

A motorcycle without a sidecar feels fluid and moves along a line in a relatively smooth and easy manner compared to the URAL.  The sidecar rig tends to move back and forth, at least it feels as if it is moving back and forth on the road controlled by unknown forces for unknown reasons.  Because of this I kept my speed to 25 to 40 mph depending on specific road conditions.

After 20 miles of gravel roads I had to stop for mental reasons.  I needed some time to process what was going on with the machine.  I wanted to understand the forces at work and allow myself the chance to drop into a more intuitive riding experience.

Physically the machine was extremely comfortable.  After six hours on the road I found no issues at all with the seat or riding position.  

Through the power of photography I was able to diminish the size of the URAL.  Through a few minutes of relaxation and a couple of chugs of water I did the same things mentally.

Looking the machine over you can't help but notice the relative simplicity of construction compared to almost any other modern motorcycle.  The speedometer provided indicated speed, odometer, trip odometer and a couple indicator lights --nothing fancy at all.  Add to that a four speed transmission, electric start, front disc brake and a reverse gear and you've pretty much summed up the available technology as far as I was concerned.

And there is a kick starter too.  Didn't try it but would be nice to know there was some chance of moving on should the battery or starter die.  And there is a nice URAL tool kit in the trunk along with a spare tire.  And the carburated motorcycle was of simple enough design that it appeared entirely possible that a rider could learn to do some real roadside service.  No computers or sophisticated technology necessary to keep this machine running.

The URAL had no trouble running up and down the mountain roads and with each mile my comfort level grew that I would not suddenly burst over the edge of the road and on into oblivion.  I could see myself riding up here in the snow.  This URAL is a 2WD version which means the wheel on the sidecar has power when you want it -- just engage a level and you're in business.  A fine winter time feature.

Amidst the riding and familiarization process I kept noticing how much I like this vintage look.  Along with the vintage look though comes some vintage processes.

Not wanting the URAL to roll down the road and over the cliff if the thing popped out of gear.  I learned later that the rig has a parking brake but I opted for the tried and true rock behind the wheel solution.

I'm clever that way.

Looking at the mufflers in the picture I want to say the URAL makes a wonderful sound.  Not too loud but definitely a barrel chested rumble that inspires some confidence that the engine can deliver what you need in terms of torque.

Forest roads around here are often no more than glorified jeep trails kept open to allow fire control vehicles into areas in an emergency.  They're not very wide and steeped than they look.  I descended this one with care trying to decide where to put the motorcycle wheel to provide the most stable line possible.  Any sudden veer or swerve could have me riding in places I wouldn't want to ride.

After 30 miles of gravel I felt pretty comfortable with the changing surface, the response of the URAL, and my growing abilities in regard to throttle, steering, braking and shifting inputs.  Riding a URAL is like a dance and you need to know all the moves.  You can get away with some sloppy things on a motorcycle but on this rig it really helps to expand your skills.

I was able to spend more time looking at the landscape and exploring with the camera as the URAL and I came to terms.

So many beautiful places to ride.  A stop for a picture, a slurp or two of water, and a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich, all stored nicely in the sidecar.

The only pain related to this ride came while making this picture.  Picking my way up through the rocks I keep twisting my ankle in the loose rocks that lined this dry run.  It's a picture I will only make in the cold weather.  On warmer days I would have to spend too much time looking for rattlesnakes.

By the time I hit pavement I felt like an enthusiastic amateur URAL Patrol pilot.  The rig feels amazingly stable after nearly forty miles of gravel roads.  For anyone acquiring one of these I highly recommend some gravel riding to hone your skills.

Since the URAL doesn't have a fuel gauge and I didn't take the time to figure out how much fuel it carries I pointed the bike to the closest fuel stop.  I thought it appropriate that the place had a certain central Siberian feel to it.

While here a had the first of a few people approach me to ask questions about the URAL.  "How old is it?" and "That's a beautiful motorcycle." were the most common comments.  Spend anytime with one of these and you'll meet a lot of people.

The 749cc, 40 horsepower engine is plenty of power to push the URAL along secondary roads but if you think you're going to love touring along on the freeway things again.  This bike was designed before freeways were common.  The engine and transmission setup will have you straining to cruise at 60mph.  It's bred for winding twisting backroads in all weathers and conditions.  It's for adventure, not for traveling at 80mph all day long on the superslab.

I had to stop at my friend Dan's house.  I'm no longer allow to pass through his county without paying a visit.  The rig looked nice in his driveway looking off towards his barn.  He says it's 700 yards away and the green grass strip serves as a driving range for he and his son.  He thought the URAL had a lot in common with his Kuboda tractor.  Must be the color scheme.

There's something neat about being able to bomb down the road and just pull over and not worry much about the condition of the berm.  The URAL is like a tractor in the regard.  Just do it. And if you sink in somewhere or get stuck -- engage that extra drive wheel.

The URAL is so stylish in its un-stylishness.  And those shocks make it seem even more tank like.

One of my last side trips into a Siberian landscape, or at least as close as I could get on this day.  The rig is all about transportation, getting from here to there, and not allowing much to stand in your way.

Later in the evening I decided to take the URAL to the grocery store -- a chance to ride through town and a chance to test further its utilitarian capabilities.  I rode back and forth through State College through streets and alleys finding people pointing and waving.

Fun.  It has some pure fun possibilities.

Discovered a couple things at the grocery store.  First, the URAL had no trouble hauling $300 worth of groceries.  The sidecar is huge and there is a locking trunk at the back.  Didn't even need to strap anything onto the rack over the spare tire.  I could have easily carried another $150 worth of food.

Or a couple pigs or a goat.

And by the time I left it was dark.  The URAL has a nice big profile and is pretty well lit up.  Certainly more visible than my Vespa.  It was sad to take the keys out of it when I got home.

 

It was raining when I took the URAL back to Kissell Motorsports.  I tried a few times to get the rig to slide or spin on the wet pavement but it just kept tracking along without a care.  As the weather grows worse and we find some snow on the ground I'll have to talk to Craig Kissell about some further experimentation.

I can see why a lot of riders swear by these rigs.  They're a collection of traits and character that is unique in the motorcycle world.  I found myself thinking about the URAL all week.  Wondering where I could go and little concerned with the weather.  Or at least not as concerned as I am on the Vespa.

It's definitely not for everyone and in my case an acquired taste.  And something you have to try out.  Kissell Motorsports is going to keep this one as a demo bike.  Pay them a visit and try it out.  You never know if you might be cut out to be a URAL Adventurer...

Surrender to the URAL

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

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

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

The URAL engenders a strange form of riding excitement.

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

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

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

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

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

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


The URAL attracts attention.

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

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

I need to surrender to the URAL.

Chasing Simplicity

Balmy air flowed through the vents in my helmet on this glowing, late fall morning, a riding gift that grows more rare as winter edges closer.  Soon the riding rituals will become a deliberation of gear and clothing, assessment and decision as the threat of frigid weather sweeps away the simpler joys of riding.

Riding a Vespa is a simple joy, one that I found late in life.  Riding has allowed me to explore the notion of a simple life, at least for those moments on the road where little matters save the road unfurling ahead and the decisions and actions required to keep the scooter flying along safely.

I was riding into town to see my friend Gordon when I stopped to make this photograph, listen to the leaves rustle underfoot, watch the light dazzle thought the yellow leaves, and give thanks for just being able to stand there for a few moments.

It's been that kind of week.

At Saint's Cafe between sips of hot chocolate and bites of a bagel I read (again) on my iPhone something called the 100 Thing Challenge.  A challenge to reduce your worldly possessions to 100.  An arbitrary number but the idea is there is some value in untying oneself from weight of things, and more importantly from the desire to acquire more.  I understand.

Yesterday brought a new Orvis catalog, another from LL Bean and one from Eddie Bauer.  They were destined to join ones from B&H Photo, Aerostich, and a host of others already on my desk.  Each offering songs of delight and desire for things that, well, I just don't need.

So they're all on their way to the landfill.  I told Gordon how nice it would be to think about buying or shopping only when I actually need something.

I've been taking some tentative steps towards simplicity -- getting rid of things I don't use, don't need, can't remember why I have.  And there is a lot of stuff.  Don't know how many things I have but I'm sure I have to be closer to 10,000 than to 100.

One hundred isn't important.  What's important is slowing removing the extraneous things that collect so easily.

At least that's the plan.

I showed up without any prints this morning.  Gordon had a bunch including several portraits he made of me.  I'm always behind the camera so the only time I have my picture taken is when I pass near another photographer.  We all understand our predicament.  We quickly create mutual admiration societies.

So the chase continues.  I need to visit my basement workbench.  I think there are 25,000 left over pieces of stuff from 20 years worth of projects.  I wish it would all go away.

The Triumph Tiger XC Experience

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

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

So I waited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The worst part of the ride was when I found myself heading directly at the sun as it neared the horizon.  Riding with one hand on the throttle and the other up shielding my eyes from the glare was tedious at times but not difficult on the stable Tiger.
.

At home I've already pictured this machine in the garage, a frequent choice over my Vespa for a variety of riding adventures both large and small.  The bike feels safe, reliable, like we're working together.  It's got enough power to go anywhere and do anything I can ever imagine doing though keep in mind I pretty much feel the same way about my much smaller Vespa GTS 250.

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

THE NEXT MORNING

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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