Tires & Wheels

The wheels are off the Concours.  Tomorrow they're off to school to have the tires off and the bearings pressed out, then it'll be over to Erin for some wheel magic at Fire Ball Coatings.  If this goes well Fire Ball are going to be my go-to for advanced paint treatments.

In the meantime I've been going over the bits and pieces, getting it cleaned up.  I suspect I might be the first person into the rear drive hub in many moons.


The Bridgestone on the front was manufactured in November, 2007 - that's eight years and two months ago!  Ipads weren't invented when this tire was made!  I'm not experienced or fussy enough to tell the difference between new and old/mismatched rubber, but I hope new tires are going to transform this bike's handling.

The rear Dunlop was manufactured in March, 2011 - four years and nine months ago.  Not as bad as the Bridgestone but having two different branded tires on the bike isn't ideal either.


Even though the Dunlop is almost five years old and I have put 10,000 miles on it (plus whatever the guy before me did), it's still got the rubber nipples on it - that's one tough tire.

Removing the rotors was a pretty straightforward process.  I aim to clean them up and maybe paint them or at least clear coat the middles before putting them back on.

I saw a TV show on current bike customizing trends and they said they had Axel Rose came in and bought a 'distressed' Harley - a new bike that is scuffed up to give it character (patina in the tongue of customizers).  I come by my patina more honestly.

The cover inside the drive side of the rear rim - pretty grimmy, but getting cleaned up.

The rubber weighted piece under this cover (and the cover itself) were in there good, it took
a fair bit of cleaning and wiggling to get the cover out.

The shaft drive with the rim off.  Doesn't look too bad.  I'll give the rear sub frame a clean and lube while everything is off.

Concours ZG1000 looking like something out of Star Wars,
and ready for a hover conversion!

Candy gold on the left looks pretty spectacular, but my old warrior is getting the plain gold.  Fire Ball Coatings has me
thinking about a project bike that I could really bling out though: power coated frame, candy coated rims... the works!

Motorcycle Reading: Red Tape & White Knuckles by Lois Pryce

I read Lois on the Loose a couple of months back so I put Red Tape and White Knuckles on Kindle for a read over the Christmas holidays.  Lois's ride through the Americas was a great read, so Red Tape had a lot to live up to.

If you enjoy well edited, lean writing that is almost pathological in its honesty you'll love Lois's writing style.  She holds nothing back as she describes her long and arduous route from England to Cape Town.  Her vulnerability riding a motorbike colours the entire trip, making this very much a motorcycle focused read.

Now that I've read both books I often find myself wondering how the people she ends up travelling with find her depictions of them.  She is relentless in her assessment of how people deal with the challenges of adventure travel, and it isn't always (usually?) flattering.

Lois is equally honest with her own fears and abilities while navigating Africa's byzantine politics and sometime apocalyptic landscape.  Her doubts creep in throughout this difficult ride, but she also explains how she recovers which is a wonderful insight into resiliency.

You'd think that the physical aspects of trying to cross Africa on a motorcycle would be what slows her down, but just when you think that the Sahara Desert will be the ultimate challenge you're scared to death of what will happen next in the Congo.  People are, by far, the most dangerous thing Lois encounters, though they are also often the saving grace.

Like Lois on the Loose before it, Red Tape & White Knuckles has some can't-put-it-down moments (especially awkward when you're supposed to be getting off a plane).  And like her previous trip this one leaves you feeling like you've been on an epic journey where the beginning feels like a distant memory as you finish.  Like the best journeys, this one feels like it changes you.

It's better if it's a tiger...

Toward the end of the novel Lois has an interesting talk with her husband Austin.  Lois's atheism comes up a number of times during her trip through religion soaked Africa, and her discussion at the end about Austin (also an atheist) praying for her safety was enlightening.  It got me thinking about what being an atheist means.

I'd also describe myself as an atheist, but that doesn't mean I'm lacking in imagination or meaning in my life.  If Life of Pi teaches you anything, it's that you shouldn't miss the better story or the resiliency offered by an empowered emotional approach to challenging circumstances.

Lois contrasts the dead eyes and mercantile nature of the Congolese with the gentle kindness she finds elsewhere. There is such a thing as being too much of a realist, of allowing the world around you to dictate your reaction to it.  We're powerful creatures able to create our own responses to the circumstances we find ourselves in.

On our recent trip south I found myself putting on my lucky socks before I loaded up my son and all our gear to go for a ride in the Superstition Mountains (I know, right?).  Do I really believe these socks are lucky?  No, not if I dwell on it, but I like these socks, they make me feel like I've got my best kit on, they put my mind at ease, make me feel like I'm ready to do a difficult thing well.  That confidence has real world value.  Same with that lucky hockey stick, or my lovely motorcycle.  Am I superstitious?  No, I wouldn't say I am because I spent most of my young adult life learning that things like fate or luck don't exist, but I recognize the value of empowering myself with positive thinking.

If Austin found some peace in fraught times worrying about Lois in Africa then this isn't a repudiation of atheism and reason, it's an acceptance of the power of hope.  These tentative forays into the psychology of adventure riding suggest an untapped opportunity.  Lois's honesty allows her unpack the complex psychology around dealing with fear, nurturing resiliency and developing an effective mental approach to the challenges of travelling off the beaten path.  I get the sense that she shies away from this kind of philosophizing, but I hope she doesn't in the future.  If her purpose is to get more people out and about, this would aid in that.

Unfortunately this brings me to the end of Lois's current works.  Fortunately she's working on another novel due out soon about her riding around Iran...

The Perils of Riding Someone Else's Bike

It was a cold and windy ride through the Superstition Mountains yesterday.  The route we took after taking Gaylen's advice at azride.com gets you out of the city and into the desert quickly and lets you bypass most of the urban sprawl east of Phoenix.

Our trusty mount was a Kawasaki Concours 14.  I thought it would be interesting to compare my 20 year old Concours to a younger one.

After I got myself turned around and rode ten minutes the wrong way into Phoenix, we got moving in the right direction and soon found ourselves on the Bush Highway, a twisty, bumpy highway that doesn't go anywhere - I guess that's why they named it that.


It took me some time to get used to this unfamiliar bike.  The gear shift was very close to and felt lower than the foot peg which made for awkward shifts, and the brakes felt very (dare I say over?) assisted unlike the old-school hydraulic brakes on my classic Concours.  When you applied the front brake you stopped in a hurry causing my pillion to plough into the back of me a number of times until I got really ginger with brake application.  The other off-putting part was that each time I used the front brake it was accompanied by a loud electrical whining noise like a cicada chirping.  Sometimes it would stop when I let go of the brake, sometimes it would keep whining afterwards.

I was unsure if this was a Concours 14 thing (doubtful) or an azride.com maintenance thing.  CoG didn't suggest any known brake electrical noise problems so I suspect this is a maintenance issue.  The azride.com website didn't mention what year the Concours was (unlike other rental sites which tell you it's a 2015 but show you a five year old bike), but based on the body the bike we had was a pre-2011 model.  Maybe it's starting to get cranky in its old age.

Taking a water break on the Bush Highway.  It was about 15°C, comfortable riding weather.
Up in the mountains it was 5°C when we stopped for lunch.

After owning three Kawasakis I have to say, man do they know engines.  Every one I've owned or ridden has had a jewel of an engine and this Concours was no different.  Passing through the tunnel leading out of Superior, the engine sounds echoing off the walls were spine tingling - it sounded like something straight out of MotoGP.

With that big wobbly wind screen up
high you're in a big air bubble, but it
looks ungainly.  Fortunately you can
lower the screen in town to restore
a sportier look.

The engine didn't disappoint in power either.  My Connie does the business with carburators and 300 less ccs, but what this bike does with the monsterous ZX14 1300cc lump is truly ominous.  I've ridden fast bikes before and this is one of the fastest.

On mountain roads this newer Concours felt smaller than my bike though they weigh the same.  The newer bike is much narrower and quite wasp wasted compared to the chunky older model.  That monumental engine that produces sixty more horsepower than my bike probably helps with that feeling of lightness too.

Wind-wise, I was able to ride in jeans all day into single digit Celsius temperatures without a problem.  The heat that pours off my Concours was absent on this one, though it was a cold day so it wasn't something I'd notice anyway.

The windscreen is electrically adjustable and at the top it stopped all but the top of my head getting hit by wind (I'm 6'3" and I had given up on windshields doing anything for me).  My bike gets me squarely in the shoulders and up all the time.  I didn't like how much the windscreen wobbled at speed, it looked flimsy, not to mention goofy in its highest position.  Once I was back in town I lowered it back to a less Jurassic Park look.  Goofy or not though, it made a cold ride through the mountains much more bearable.  A transformable windshield is a piece of magic, though a more solid feeling one with manual adjustment would do the job better.  I'd rather not have the added weight and complexity of the electrical one.

You can see just how ridiculously high the risers
are in this view of the Concours back in the lot.
The big googly-eyed headlights don't do
much for me either.

I've got a 32" leg and find my bike a bit cramped.  The ZG1400 was a bit more relaxed in the legs.  After a couple of hours in the saddle I had no problems.

The ergonomic problems began where azride.com made changes.  The huge risers they installed on this Concours looked like comedy units off a 1970s banana seat bike - huge bull horn things that put the grips right under my nipples, or so it felt.  They pushed me so far back that I was riding more on my tailbone - cruiser style - than I otherwise would have.  The narrow Concours 14 seat wasn't build for this contortion and it became quite uncomfortable.  It makes me wonder how the stock handle bars would have worked.  I have low risers on my old Concours and have a slight forward lean, which I prefer to a bolt upright or reclined stance.

No fancy paint, electrical wind screens or whining
electronics, but it's a solid old thing that does the
business with gusto.  I'm still wishing for the
bike bag to magically whisk my bike along.

All of the electrical noise from the brakes and fuel injection made me cross.  I don't mind electronics (I teach computer engineering), and my Ninja had EFI that was bullet proof, silent and efficient, but when the electronics are whirring away it is intrusive and just reminds you of another expensive thing that will break on you.  I don't feel that this Concours 14 gave me a fair idea of what the breed is capable of.  I'd especially like to try a newer one to get a better sense of the machine.  Maybe Kawasaki will be doing a riding tour again next year and I can try a 2016 model.

That whacky old-guy handle bar riser (and accompanying sore ass) conspired to make me long for my own bike.  It might not have the heat management, or easier reach to the ground (which I don't need anyway), or fancy moving windshield, but my old Concours feels solid, is usually the fastest thing on the road when you twist the throttle and offers a satisfying mechanical simplicity that I missed on this electronically whinny newer machine.

Roads to Ride: Arizona

We just left Sedona and headed south to Phoenix.  The Sedona area is astonishingly beautiful, and there isn't anything like a South West Ontario dull road to be seen.  The interstates have more twists and turns than the most interesting roads where I live.  Coming back here on two wheels is a must do.  Not only are the roads fantastic, but the scenery is otherworldly.

We stayed at the Arroyo Roble Best Western on the north edge of town and it made for a excellent base for exploring the area.  The on site hot tubs, sauna and steam room would also ease sore muscles after a long day of leaning into corners on the byzantine surrounding roads.

Here are some of the highlights from Sedona:

The view just south of Sedona

Looking down into the Oak Creek Canyon...

Local micro breweries abound, America is no longer the land of Bud Light.
The Black Ridge Brewery in Kingman make a lovely IPA, while the Oak Creek Brewery
in Sedona make a fantastic Nut Brown Ale.

Any direction you look, Sedona is magical.

Top of Cathedral Rock Trail - it was worth a sweaty climb

Boynton Canyon, a lovely drive in, then a secluded canyon spoiled by constantly running machinery from the golf course
stuffed up the middle of it.  There was an Apache ceremony at the vista coming in - flute sounds over a quiet desert
was much preferred to heavy equipment thumping away around the corner.  Still petty though.

Smoke & Mirrors

I've been watching Tough Rides: China by Colin & Ryan Pile.  It's the long way around China and a great introduction to a little known country, but it sometimes comes off as another thinly veiled BMW ad for adventure motorcycling.

The ride itself is indeed tough with the boys working their way through deserts, traffic and mudslides all the way to the base of Everest, but their bike troubles left me thinking about BIKE's ride from the UK to Japan on a Suzuki V-Strom.  In that case the (relatively budget) Suzuki V-Strom managed to cross Europe and Asia (including the Pamir Highway and Mongolia) in fine fettle.  Bike's 13,768 mile (22,160km) ride highlights just how tough Suzuki's less famous adventure bike is.

In comparison to Bike's bullet proof V-Strom, the new BMWs making the 18,000km circuit of China quickly develop character.  I just finished the episode where one of the bikes (after not starting in a previous episode), now needs a whole new clutch.  This got me thinking about another statistic.

The Consumer Reports reliability Rankings are pretty damning.  From a purely statistical point of view you'd be crazy not to buy a Japanese bike, adventure or otherwise.  If you want something American, get a Victory!  Want something European?  For goodness sakes, get a Triumph!  Ducati is more dependable than BMW yet the propeller heads from Bavaria still seem to be the darlings of the TV adventure motorcycling set.

I get the sense that this is a triumph of marketing over engineering, which is a real shame.  If every other motorcycle manufacturer took the same risks supporting epic rides we wouldn't all be subject to this style before substance adventure-bike TV.

A while back I was reading a Cycle World article comparing the big BMW adventure bike to KTM's Super Adventure.  The article ended with a litany of breakdowns on both machines.  It turns out taking 550+ pound, tech-heavy giant trailies off-road doesn't end well unless you're a magazine reporter riding a demo bike.  I guess they're great bikes as long as you're not pouring money into repairs yourself.

I got into Nick Sander's Incredible Ride a while back.  Nick road the length of the Americas three times, two of them in just 46 days, on a Yamaha Super Ténéré.

That's 50,000 miles (~85,000kms) through the bad gas of Central America, jungle, deserts, mountains all from north of the Arctic Circle almost to the Antarctic Circle.  The BigTen worked flawlessly and when they stripped the engine down after the fact the technicians were frankly astonished by how little wear there was.  Needless to say, it didn't need the clutch replaced during that massive trip.

Honda is bragging on their new Africa Twin, a 'true' adventure bike.  At 500lbs it's a bit lighter than the super-stylish yet very breakable BMWs & KTMs listed above, and if anyone could build a bike that wouldn't break it would be Honda.  Yet even in this case I'm left wondering just how resilient any off-road capable bike north of five hundred pounds is going to be.

You'd think it would be impossible to build a big bike capable of managing this abuse - it's a question of physics (mass vs. the violence of off-road riding), but Sanders' Yamaha suggests it is possible, though you won't see it on adventure bike TV.  Maybe bikes that work all the time make for bad TV.

There is a reason why you guys are having to figure out how to
install clutch plates in the middle of a trip....

An antidote to all of this is Austin Vince's various Mondos.  He seems to spend about the same amount of time repairing his ailing, ancient dual sport bikes but he isn't wearing designer riding gear and he didn't pay anything like the $15,000 that the two Canadian boys did for their new F800GS Adventures.  Vince probably spends less than that on a whole trip, including the cost of his bike.

Ultimately, much of the adventure bike genre is more concerned with style.  Like SUV drivers, most ADV riders seldom if ever venture off pavement so perhaps this post is suggesting something that doesn't really matter.

COST x FAILURE RATE presents a pretty obvious conclusion.

But if you can buy a better built Japanese adventure bike for less (they all cost substantially less than the nearly $22k a BMW 1200GS Adventure costs), then why on earth wouldn't you?

If you're buying that GS to feel like Ewan & Charley then I suppose it's all good if you enjoy the feeling you get from it, but if you're actually interested in going off the beaten path and don't have a sponsorship deal and a support crew, considering reliability before marketing seems like a no-brainer.