Is gobbling up 600 miles on the slab the same as doing 300 miles on back roads?

That's the question riders are pondering on the Motorcycle Tourer's Forum today...
http://forums.delphiforums.com/....?msg=26016.1

So... do you ride long distances for the sake of the long distance and live for the open highway with no stop signs in front of you? Or do you just love to get out there and ride for 8 hours on town roads and check out the diners along the way that are hiding in the woods?

Labels: Long Distance Riding, Love of Riding

Seems incredible, but some people have actually ridden over a million miles on motorcycles.

The American Motorcyclist Association has a story about Lyle Grimes who's done it, mostly on BMW bikes. The Virago Owners Club has a story of David Hingson who's also done it, on Yamaha Viragos, of course.

So has anyone put on a million miles or more on Harleys? I'm not aware of one, but there's a story about a guy who put on 400,000 miles on one Harley. He named the bike, "Old Charley". As the story goes, the motor company heard about this guy and convinced him to sell Old Charley to them. They gave him a brand new bike, "Old Charley II", and put his old bike on display at the Capitol Drive plant in the lobby. (I haven't visited the plant, so I can't vouch for the truthfulness of this story, maybe someone else can).

But anyways, I would like to put on a million miles in my riding life. I suppose the number "one million" doesn't mean much, it's just another number. But then again, most of us may never put on 100,000 miles on two wheels, and therefore we never give a million much thought. If you had already done 500,000, you might start thinking about it more often.

Imagine how many tires you'd have to buy to get you to one million? Motorcycle tires are more expensive than car tires, and they wear out faster. All the oil changes, all the brake pads, ALL THE GASOLINE!

In the riding world, the number of miles you accumulate each year is a way to measure one's activity level. Otherwise, most riders measure their experience in years of riding. Other industries do it also. Airplane pilots measure their experience in hours. Truckers measure their experience in miles.

There are also mileage contests in various forums and clubs. Harley Chat Group, a nationwide forum of Harley owners, has a national mileage challenge where riders post photos of their bikes' odometers at the start of the year. At the end of the year, they post photos of their odometers again, to see who wins. The winner doesn't get anything, just bragging rights.

Moroney's Harley-Davidson, a dealer in New Windsor, NY, is having a mileage contest to see who can rack up the most miles between April 2007 and November 2007. The winner gets a brand new rear tire.

I guess there's no way to really certify someone as having ridden over a million miles. It takes too much time to record all that. Most of these people accomplished the feat over 40-50 years. It's just one of those things that you have to accept on faith. If only they had digital cameras and photo-sharing sites back in the 1950s, it would be a joy to see a million miles worth of memories.

Labels: Love of Riding

One advantage to riding a motorcycle is being able to smell the air.

In a car you're always smelling the same smell, except in extreme cases when you drive through something really smelly. But on the bike, you get it all.

Summertime is a great time to ride through Southern California, because there are still places where there are orange groves. And when the orange trees are in bloom, riding through them hits you with a wall of sweet scent.

I also like hitting the mountain roads in the Summer and breathing in the smell of pine trees. You can also take a ride through the wheat fields of inland California, particularly in the early morning while there is still some dew on the ground, and get an intense scent of wheat. A few days ago I rode up Pacific Coast Highway through Orange County, and the salty smell of the ocean was in the air.

Just last week a buddy and I were riding motorcycles through the city of San Marcos looking for a place to have lunch. We rode past a barbecue joint, and would have probably kept going if not for the aroma of barbecue sauce burning on an open fire. We turned around and ate lunch there. Burger joints and doughnut shops always seem to spew out heavenly smells.

Sometimes the smell of riding a motorcycle is not so great. Like when you get whiff of diesel exhaust bellowing out of an old Mercedes sedan, while stopped at an intersection. If you ride in a group, someone is usually running rich, and you can get a whiff of unspent fuel blowing out of the exhaust pipe. If you happen to be coming up to a livestock farm, get ready to smell some poop.

Some smells are not necessarily sweet, but not that bad either. Like when rain just starts to fall, and you can smell that strange scent of road grime getting wet. Or like when you're riding down a long stretch of downgrade, and you can pick up the smell of burning brake pads. Ever ride through an area that just recently experienced a fire? Sometimes you can smell the charcoal.

But mostly, the smell of riding is a pleasant experience. It's a dynamic you don't get in a car. If you happen to ride your motorcycle into the country, and you can't smell anything, take heart. You're smelling clean air!

Labels: Love of Riding

There an old saying among the hardcore biker brethren...

"There are riders who've crashed their bikes, and there are riders who WILL crash their bikes".

• Brush It Off, The Great Motorcycle Pizza Tour, Mar 15, 2007


• Motorcycles, danger, and me, Tales of a Duc Rider, Mar 14, 2007

• Wannabees - The person who wants to be seen, admired, and feared. You can spot these people, because despite how hard they try, they never look or act like hardcore riders



• Partiers - These people are after sex. They want naked girls, getting trashy, and making egg drop soup in the hot tub. They see the party photos in V-Twin magazine, and think, "Yeah, that's what I want". They buy a Harley because it's their ticket into the rallies and parties. Look at the people who trailer their bikes to rallies, nuff said.



• Social Environmentalists - These are the people who buy scooters because they want to do their part to reduce green house gas emissions. They don't love riding, they hate having to wear cold weather gear, but they want to do their part for Al Gore (up until they fall off the scooter)



• Opportunists - These are professionals who claim that they love to ride, and show up to all the biker rallies, but are really just there to grab some market share for their business. These could be lawyers, magazine editors, motorcycle dealers, to name a few.

Labels: Love of Riding

The "Harley Creed" film has been making noise across the blogosphere and biker forums for the past few months (well before it's official release), and reading all the creeds submitted by bikers is interesting to read.

Here's one from Michele Pastorius, Kelton, PA...

When I mount my Harley I get on like this, I lean up close and give it a kiss. I hug the V-Twin with my thighs real tight and grab hold the throttle with all my might. Squeeze in the clutch, tap down to first, roll on the throttle 'till I think I'm gonna burst! Zooming down the highway, hear the engine roar, shiftin' into second; GIVE ME BABY MORE! Give me 3rd gear, 4th gear, give me 5th gear. Let me feel vibrations all across my rear! We can make a rumble, we can make some noise, we have drawn attention from all you girls and boys! Feel the wind around me,
all across the land. If I have to explain, you just wouldn't understand. Yamaha, Indian, Honda and Big Dog; all fine motorcycles BUT NOTHING BEATS A HOG!

Labels: Love of Riding

Well, not my wife, but another guy's wife. That's what this guy told me today in the parking lot of a restaurant. His wife thinks he'll get killed on a motorcycle.

As my wife and I left a restaurant yesterday, I saw him crouched down behind my Yamaha Road Star, with his head cocked to one side, looking down the lines and curves of the bike.

He asked me if it was the Road Star 1100 or the Road Star 1700. I said, "Well, the 1100 is the V-Star. This is the 1700 Road Star."

"What year is it?" he asked.

"2004" I said.

He went on to tell me how much he wanted a motorcycle, but his wife was against it. She kept saying that he'll get killed on it.

I told him to just go get one. "If you buy one and bring it home, what's she gonna do?" He just kinda nodda and said, "Yeah, but it's not that easy."

He looked to be in his 50s, and told me that he had ridden motorcycles in his teen years, and just itched to get back on again. I suppose that's pretty much like most of us. I told him, "If you don't get one now, you never will."

This guy also said that he wanted something to commute back and forth to work, and something that will take him to Phoenix and back (to Southern California). I told him the V-Star 1100 will definitely do that, but my preference is the Road Star, particularly since that's what I've been riding.

"Yeah, the more I keep looking at bikes, the more my wife complains about it", he went on to say. I told him to just go with what you want. "It's not like you're cheating on her."

"If one day she came home with a $3,000 diamond ring, you'd probably throw a fit too. But you'd probably let her keep it knowing it made her happy."

"Just get the bike."

Labels: Family Life, Love of Riding, Stubborn Wives

It looks like we lost a good friend.

A friend we've been riding with in our club decided to sell his bike and just cage it from here on out. At first, I thought it had something to do with his health, but apparently not. He said he just didn't care to ride anymore. On top of that, he plans to move out of state.

In my college days my Kawasaki KZ400 was the only means of transportation I had for about three years. Rain, shine, heat, or cold, that was the only thing I had to get around. After awhile I grew really tired of getting cold and wet. That's when I bought my first car (a pick-up truck actually). I didn't ride again for fifteen years.

In the first year, riding a bike used to be a ton of fun. A friend that I grew up with had a bike too, and we rode all around So. Cal. on the weekends, and talked about the cross-country trip we planned on doing sometime. Eventually, we ended up getting full time jobs, and we ended up with steady girlfriends that demanded more of our time. We didn't really ride for fun anymore. The freedom of riding had turned into a hassell, and having a car offered me new possibilities.

Maybe that's kinda what happened to our friend. His new job didn't afford him much time to ride with the club, and hence riding a bike had become nothing more than a necessity.

The thing was that he lived for riding, and for riding with the club. When he started a new job that took away the only thing he lived for, it became easy to understand. But instead of finding another job that allowed him ride with the club, he opted to start a new chapter in his life.

As much as I would hate to say it, I think it's a good decision. He's a great guy who deserves a lot more than what he's been given. We'll miss him.

Labels: Love of Riding