basketcase
08-21-2004, 07:51 AM
A while back, I took a spur of the moment weekend trip to Deal’s Gap. As a long time BMW rider, I was naturally attuned to the beemers present when I pulled into the lot at Crossroads of Time. Looking around for a moment, it occurred to me – yet again, that the motorcycling world includes a lot of bikes that are not products of BMW, Inc.
There in the lot I saw Buell, Ducati, Harley, Honda, Moto-Guzzi, Suzuki, Triumph, and Yamaha. Probably, I left out something that was hid in the sea of handlebars and helmets. That particular weekend, the Yamaha crowd was by far the largest – with a club devoted to the FZ series doing repeat runs of the Gap.
Fast forward a bit. Last weekend I took a roaring trip to St. Libory, Nebraska. It is the first lengthy trip I’ve taken in a while, and riding West on the slab after clearing Nashville, I began to note the motorcycles I passed.
There were lots of Harleys and Goldwings. Most of the Harleys were loaded like pack-mules, and many of the Wings were pulling trailers. The Harley and Wing riders were more likely to be in bunches, but there were occasional solo riders riding those brands.
“Where are the other beemers?” I wondered. The fact is, I saw less than a dozen BMW’s on the entire trip. And all of them were solo riders except for one odd looking bunch of five riders that I saw on I-70 in Missouri.
There were scads of other motorcycles and motorcyclists as well – too many to count or name, and most with stuff strapped on for a trip of some type. There were cruisers, standards, sport bikes, and a few dual sports. The common denominator among them was being laden with all manner of gear. There were a lot of aftermarket saddlebags slung across seats to turn a weekday commuter into a weekend tourer.
There is nothing quite like shutting down the computer and taking a trip out into the real world of motorcycling to temper one’s view of who rides what. On the return trip, I took Highway 63 south from Columbia, MO, and meandering along that gently curving road I had time to jell some thoughts.
Screw the hang-ups over brand names. It is the bent to adventure that motivates, and the love of the road that truly bonds us in this thing we so love to do and talk about. Interestingly, most of the riders I passed waved: Harley types, Honda riders, beemer people, crotchers, and all the miscellanea of riders in between.
Next, screw the obsession with destination – it is the ride that counts. I did not see one unhappy face in the crowds I passed. Nor did I encounter an unfriendly rider among those I chatted with at gas stations and rest areas. Instead, there were a lot of contented people on all kinds of bikes, each one a rider in his or her own right. Realistically, there had to be cranks and snobs somewhere in the crowd, but those I talked with were happy to meet a fellow traveler along the way.
Now the merits of the BMW are not lost on me, and I took advantage of the handling and power of the K11 on the curves on highway 63. But by the end of the five day trip, I paid for it. I must confess that a damaged rotator cuff in my right shoulder gives me fits after riding the K for long periods. So for a while, I have been thinking in terms of, “What will I do if I get off the K and get a different bike?” Will I get another Wing, or move to recent model oil head? In terms of day-long throttle management, a throttle-rocker is an okay get-by, but I am really curious to see if the new R12 RT will boast electronic cruise.
With all that said, the weekend served as a huge reminder that it really does not matter as much what I ride, just as long as I am in fact doing it. My original attraction to motorcycling was about the wind in my face, and the freedom to explore whatever road I see on the map. When I resumed riding 10 years ago – and after a 13 year hiatus, my three guiding thoughts were, “Comfortable, practical, and low maintenance.”
So while I went a long way geographically to drink coffee and slap backs with other riders, I guess I’ve not traveled very far in other ways. Seeing so many other riders on so many different kinds of bikes nudged me to again think in terms of letting marque take a back seat to the joy of the ride, and on a bike that fits my body and my budget.
There in the lot I saw Buell, Ducati, Harley, Honda, Moto-Guzzi, Suzuki, Triumph, and Yamaha. Probably, I left out something that was hid in the sea of handlebars and helmets. That particular weekend, the Yamaha crowd was by far the largest – with a club devoted to the FZ series doing repeat runs of the Gap.
Fast forward a bit. Last weekend I took a roaring trip to St. Libory, Nebraska. It is the first lengthy trip I’ve taken in a while, and riding West on the slab after clearing Nashville, I began to note the motorcycles I passed.
There were lots of Harleys and Goldwings. Most of the Harleys were loaded like pack-mules, and many of the Wings were pulling trailers. The Harley and Wing riders were more likely to be in bunches, but there were occasional solo riders riding those brands.
“Where are the other beemers?” I wondered. The fact is, I saw less than a dozen BMW’s on the entire trip. And all of them were solo riders except for one odd looking bunch of five riders that I saw on I-70 in Missouri.
There were scads of other motorcycles and motorcyclists as well – too many to count or name, and most with stuff strapped on for a trip of some type. There were cruisers, standards, sport bikes, and a few dual sports. The common denominator among them was being laden with all manner of gear. There were a lot of aftermarket saddlebags slung across seats to turn a weekday commuter into a weekend tourer.
There is nothing quite like shutting down the computer and taking a trip out into the real world of motorcycling to temper one’s view of who rides what. On the return trip, I took Highway 63 south from Columbia, MO, and meandering along that gently curving road I had time to jell some thoughts.
Screw the hang-ups over brand names. It is the bent to adventure that motivates, and the love of the road that truly bonds us in this thing we so love to do and talk about. Interestingly, most of the riders I passed waved: Harley types, Honda riders, beemer people, crotchers, and all the miscellanea of riders in between.
Next, screw the obsession with destination – it is the ride that counts. I did not see one unhappy face in the crowds I passed. Nor did I encounter an unfriendly rider among those I chatted with at gas stations and rest areas. Instead, there were a lot of contented people on all kinds of bikes, each one a rider in his or her own right. Realistically, there had to be cranks and snobs somewhere in the crowd, but those I talked with were happy to meet a fellow traveler along the way.
Now the merits of the BMW are not lost on me, and I took advantage of the handling and power of the K11 on the curves on highway 63. But by the end of the five day trip, I paid for it. I must confess that a damaged rotator cuff in my right shoulder gives me fits after riding the K for long periods. So for a while, I have been thinking in terms of, “What will I do if I get off the K and get a different bike?” Will I get another Wing, or move to recent model oil head? In terms of day-long throttle management, a throttle-rocker is an okay get-by, but I am really curious to see if the new R12 RT will boast electronic cruise.
With all that said, the weekend served as a huge reminder that it really does not matter as much what I ride, just as long as I am in fact doing it. My original attraction to motorcycling was about the wind in my face, and the freedom to explore whatever road I see on the map. When I resumed riding 10 years ago – and after a 13 year hiatus, my three guiding thoughts were, “Comfortable, practical, and low maintenance.”
So while I went a long way geographically to drink coffee and slap backs with other riders, I guess I’ve not traveled very far in other ways. Seeing so many other riders on so many different kinds of bikes nudged me to again think in terms of letting marque take a back seat to the joy of the ride, and on a bike that fits my body and my budget.