The 1, 2, 3s of why Tigers are Awesome

I've been putting miles on the Tiger and have a developed some ideas about why it's awesome in comparison to what I've come from.  Here they are in no particular order:

1... The tiger growls.  The Ninja had a nice snarl to it with its 270° twin, and the Concours' massive inline four thundered like a Norse god, but the tearing silk growl of the Tiger can be virtually silent (less noisy than the wind) when I'm cruising, or growl like its namesake when you twist the throttle.  It has enough presence to make people jump when you give it some revs - maybe because it's so quiet otherwise.

The 955i Triple (an epic engine) has that same lopsided warble that the Ninja had, but amplified by a third cylinder.  I've had a twin and a four, but now that I've gone triple I don't think I'll ever go back, it feels like the best of both worlds.

2... Lithe tigers are fun tigers.  At 50 kilos (almost 110lbs!) less than my last bike, the Tiger does everything better even though it's taller.  From backing it out of the garage to winding it through corners, I don't miss an ounce of that chubby Concours.  While the Connie hid its weight well in motion, it was always lurking in the background.  There is no substitute for a lighter bike.

3... Hot tigers aren't so hot.  The cowling was nice on the Concours, but the volcanic heat that came off that engine cooked my man parts.  I might be hanging more out in the wind on the Tiger, but that's kind of the point of motorcycling.

The engine barely seems to produce any heat at all and what there is is so well managed that I only occasionally feel a breath of warm air.  Time spent in the saddle is cool and comfortable, and much less like meatballs in hot sauce.  

The one place I'm warmer are my hands.  Between the hand guards and heated grips I've been able to ride the Tiger in near zero temperatures with no issues and without winter gloves.  My legs went from getting cooked to being one of the coolest parts of me when I'm out on the bike.

4... It's not wise to upset a tiger.  Between that radical weight loss and an engine that puts out 7 more ft/lbs of torque 2000rpm lower than the Concours, the first time I wound out the Tiger it almost wookie-ed my arms off.  It's amazing what a small bump in engine grunt and massive weight loss can do to a bike's forward velocity.  The Tiger will comfortably lift a wheel in the first three gears, and it isn't a little bike.

5...  Suspension that soaks up lousy Ontario roads.  Kawasakis have a rep for budget suspensions.  Between that and the barely paved roads of Ontario, I'd often hit bumps that would lift me out of the seat and rattle my bones.  This led to constantly worrying about knocking something loose on the bike.  The long, pliant suspension of the Tiger makes Ontario's wonderful roads ride-able without any such worries.  Another benefit is that I'm able to corner and brake more effectively because the bike is never juddering over potholes, it just soaks them up.

6...  Lucifer Orange is magical.  I've yet to own a bike that a coat of spray paint didn't radically improve, but there is only so far you can go with a can of spray paint.  The clear coated, metallic, red-orange on the Triumph is mind-bendingly brilliant.  Sure, the tiger stripes are a bit over the top, but that paint can manage it. When my eleven year old first saw it he said, 'oh yeah!'.  Pulling up behind a school bus creates an avalanche of kids in the back window giving me thumbs up.  It's the opposite of the too-cool-to-care leather clad biker pirate, but I'd rather give an enthusiastic thumbs up back than sit there trying to look indifferent about everything.

I picked up my first ROOF helmet last summer, and it has quickly become my go to lid.  The combination of an open face or fully safetied close faced lid (most flip up helmets only pass open face standards, the chin guard is ornamental) makes this a brilliant all-rounder.  I got it in orange because I liked the design, but it happens to look splendid and intentional with Triumph's Lucifer orange.  It's a happy accident, but I'll take it.

7... It fits.  Less bend in the knees, my feet just go flat on the floor, less bent forward riding position with no weight on the wrists with a comfortable, upright stance, the Tiger fits like nothing I've ridden before.

Those wide bars mean I let me leverage corners easily and with precision.  Other than keeping you tight to the bike aerodynamically, I'm not really sure why sportier bars are considered better, the wider geometry encourages finer control.

I also look like I fit on the Tiger.  I looked like a circus bear on a tricycle on the Ninja.  On the Concours I still looked like I was too tall for the bike, but the Tiger fits my 6'3" frame like it was made for me.

Ready for my first night ride -
those lights work great.

8... the bad things aren't.  The first owner seems to have addressed every shortcoming on this Tiger.  Last night was my first time out with it after dark and the supposedly anemic headlights were as good as the Concours' lights ever were, and when I hit the highbeams it was like having a football stadium light up in front of me.

The fueling is smooth and perfect, and I haven't even fine tuned the Power Commander on it yet.  The front fork does dive a bit under heavy breaking, but some adjustment seems to have resolved that and made the bike respond to my weight perfectly.  I have no trouble getting the Tiger to chase its own tail around corners.

With the second wing on the windshield adjusted I have at least as much upper body wind protection as I did from the fully faired Connie, so I'm not missing all the plastic of my last bike either.

9... a made in the U.K. success story.  Riding a British bike fills me with pride.  Riding such a good British bike makes it even better.  Triumph's rise from bankruptcy in the 1980s to a multi-million dollar, international success story suggests that British manufacturing is anything but history, and that British habits around manufacturing can change and become competitive in a global economy.  It's nice to ride such a fine machine made in the same place I was.

10... brilliant panniers.  I've enjoyed built in luggage since the Concours, but the Tiger panniers are totally next level.  Unlike the finicky attachments on the Connie, the Triumph panniers slip on and off effortlessly and lock into place as well as locking closed.  They are a good size and look right on the bike.  That they're colour matched is just another bonus.

As you might have gathered, I'm enjoying Triumph ownership so far.

Riders & Tigers & Rivers (oh my)

a 2003 Triumph Tiger 955i... sketch!

A somewhat-warm and sunny Saturday meant a short ride up and down the river banks.




With a dirth of twisting roads around here, the Grand River is one of the few geological obsticles that forces local roads to do anything other than travel arrow straight.

It was a nice ride with a lot of bikes out and about.  At one point, waiting to turn onto the highway, I came across half a dozen BMWs and a lone Suzuki Vstrom - the local BMW club and a friend?

Were I lucky enough to live near some mountainous terrain, I'd be bending the bike around some real corners.

Saturday morning had me cleaning up my gear (check out those shiny boots in the video!) and fixing my Roof helmet.  I love that thing, best helmet I've ever owned.  I'd be heartbroken if I couldn't fix it.  The plastic cams had gone out of alignment on the visor.  The last time I closed it they snapped, leaving me with an always open helmet.  Fortunately I had a spare set that came with the original clear visor.  It took a bit of aligning, but everything went back together flawlessly.

That Roof is one of the only ones in Canada.  I'd need to take a trip to Europe just to get another!  I'm starting to regret only buying one when I had a chance to pick up the last ones in Canada.

A Year of Living Dangerously

Work's been heavy as of late, and I've got the middle-aged itch to do something profound before I'm too old to do anything interesting.  As usual, money and responsibility tie me to the earth, but in my more imaginative moments I wonder what I'd do with a year off and the money to do things that one day I'll be too old and creaky to manage.

If I finished work at the end of June this year and had a year off I'd be back at work the following September.  That would give me the better part of fifteen months to explore three of my favorite aspects of motorcycling:  road racing, endurance riding and long distance adventure riding.  In chronological order, here's my year of living dangerously:

It's seat forward, middle & back,
in ergocycle but it looks like I *really*
like that Daytona.

1... Road Racing:  This spring get my race license, get a bike sorted and complete in the SOAR schedule over the summer.

A 12+ year old Triumph Daytona 600 would be a nice machine that fits into specific age (lost era) and displacement categories and wouldn't be what everyone else is sitting on.  I also fit on it quite well (see the suggestive gif on the right).

Road racing would sharpen my riding skills and let me wrap my head around some of the more extreme dynamics of motorcycle riding in a controlled environment.  

Familiarity with high speed on a bike wouldn't hurt for what I'm planning to do next, and racing over the summer would also focus my fitness training which would be helpful in building up to #2.

Costing a road racing season:  ~$20,000 (including race prepping a bike and racing in a local series)

Less than 50% usually finish, it's
difficult, astonishing and viciously
exhausting, but finishing puts you in
a very small and exceptional group.

2... Race the Dakar:  Happening over New Years and into early 2017, finishing the Dakar would be the kind of thing that not many people manage.  Dreamracer puts into perspective just how difficult this can be.

Leaving work at the end of June I'd be full-on training and preparing for the race.  There are a number of Baja and other sand/desert focused races that would get me ready for the big one.  There are also a lot of off road training courses available well into the fall.  My goal would be to get licensed, certified and experienced in as many aspects of motorcycle racing as possible in the six months leading up to the Dakar.

Doing a Dakar would also be a fantastic fitness focus.  With a clear goal in mind, it would be a lot easier to schedule and organize my fitness.  A personal trainer and a clear targets would have me ready to take my best run at a Dakar, one of the toughest tests of mind and body ever devised.  It would do a fantastic job of scratching that middle-aged urge to do something exceptional.

Costing of a Dakar:  ~$98,000 Cdn

3... Ride Home:  The Dakar raps up mid-January, the perfect time to begin a ride back to Canada!  After resting up from the race I'd head south to Ushuaia at the beginning of February (summer time there) before riding back up the west coast through Chile.

A stop in Peru at Machu Picchu and then up the coast through Ecuador and into Columbia before loading on the Ferry in Cartegena to Panama around the one roadless bit in the Americas.



Once landed in Panama I make my way through Central America before pushing all the way up North America's West Coast to the Arctic ocean in mid-summer (lots of sunlight!).  The last leg has me finally heading south again and east across Canada and back home.

The new Tiger would do a sterling
job of taking me the thirty three
thousand kilometres home.

All told it would be just over thirty three thousand kilometres.  Leaving Buenos Aires at the beginning of Februrary, and averaging 500kms a day (less on bad roads, more on good roads), I'd be looking at 68 days on the road straight.  Fortunately, if I wrap up the trip at the end of July I'd have more like 180 days to do it, leaving lots of time to enjoy the magic I'd find along the way.

Cost of a trip like this?  A week on the road is cheaper in South and Central America than North America.  If this is a 160 day trip (with 20 days for potential slowdowns to stay within the 180 day/6 month goal), then the money can be roughly estimated using these approximations:

• $150/day (gas, food, lodging, expenses)  in South & Central America
• $250 a day in North America

The raw numbers break down like this:

• 14,500kms in South America (43% of the trip)  -  69 days = $10,350
• 5600kms in Central America (17% of the trip)  -  27 days = $4050
• 13560kms in North America (40% of the trip)   -  64 days = $16,000

For a total of $30,400 for the trip + $15,000+shipping to Argentina for a new Tiger

For the low, low price of about $150,000, I'd have a year of unique challenges, once in a lifetime experiences and get a chance to do three things that will only become more and more impossible as I get older.  Some people like the idea of a holiday where they can do nothing, but that isn't for me.  I'll take the challenge any day, if only I had the money and the time money gives.

The goal once I was home and back to daily life would be to collate the notes and media from this year of living dangerously into written and visual mediums.  Being able to produce a video and book(s) out of this experience would be the cherry on top.

Besides a fantastic set of memories, some new skills and the material needed to write an epic tale, I'd also have a race bike ready to compete on again the next summer.  That year of living dangerously might persist.

Superior Ride

Just over three thousand kilometres around Huron and Superior...

I saw the Tiger in the
parking lot at work today
& was sorely tempted to
jump  aboard and disappear

I did Georgian Bay last year and I'm already thinking about Great Lake circumnavigation again.  With the Tiger cleaned up and ready to go, it's time to lob one over the horizon.  Huron & Superior would be the single longest trip in the Great Lakes series.

Day 1:  Elora to Tawas City, Michigan (~604kms) North Star Motel
Day 2:  Tawas City, MI to Marquette, MI (~545kms)  Marquette Day's Inn

Day 3:  Marquette to Duluth Minesota (510kms) Radisson Duluth Harbourview
note:  the Aerostich factory is in Duluth!



Day 4:  Duluth to Thunderbay Ontario (305kms)  Days Inn Thunderbay
Day 5:  Thunderbay to Wawa (487kms)  Wawa Motor Inn
Day 6:  Wawa to Little Current (513kms)  Anchor Inn Hotel
Day 7:  Little Current to Elora (334kms) 1:30pm-3:15pm Ferry to Tobermory
~3200kms

I could be done in a week with no extreme days and enough time in there to wander off the route if the mood struck us.  Max and I are already trying to work out a week we could do it on.

360° Video on a Motorcycle

I borrowed a 360° video camera from work to see what it could do.  This one is Ricoh's Theta, and it produces some astonishing results (you can move the point of view around with your mouse as you watch it):

On occasion I teach media arts and one of the key aspects of that course is considering point of view in the media you create.  These 360° cameras ask some challenging questions around how camera operators will present point of view in the future.  At some point we'll be telling our grand kids that we once all watched the same movie at the same time and they'll look at us like we're old and backwards.

Immersive video like this means the viewer tells the story by controlling their own point of view.  You can watch the bike going down the road, watch me on it, watch what the other traffic is doing - it's a different video for each person who views it.

When you upload this to youtube it's a big file.  Youtube throws up a low resolution version very quickly, but if you give it some processing time you'll eventually get access to a full 1080p version, which offers impressive detail in all directions.

For three hundred bucks Canadian the Theta does things the more expensive GoPro can't.  It isn't as tough as the GoPro, but forty bucks will get you a waterproof case that resolves that.  If you've never tried 360° video, the Ricoh Theta makes for an easy introduction.  I wish I had it for more than a short term loan!

It also does a good job of 360° photography:

trying the photo app on the phone with the 360° Ricog Theta.. - Spherical Image - RICOH THETA

For the video above I clipped the camera to the windshield with a rubber clamp.  It's so low profile that the wind had no effect on it.

Below are some screen grabs from the video that show the native resolution of the video in the Ricoh app.  In that Ricoh software you can zoom in and out of the 360° image as well as pan around it.  This is as close as I've seen to the Bladerunner photography tool Harrison Ford uses - you can use the video or photo to actually explore the scene you're looking at.

If you zoom right out you can see the native/fisheye view of the camera.  It does an impressive job of managing the
geometry of filming in all directions simultaneously.

Stills from the garage showing off the resolution of still images on the Ricoh

You can get some pretty interesting perspectives and abstract images out of this kind of camera:

Taken at pretty much the same time as the one above.  This gives you some idea of what the 360° can catch at once.

Regular Riding

A bit of paint and I can now tell the
ignition key from the nearly
identical pannier key.

Regularly riding is a nice thing in mid-April up here.  It rained yesterday, so I commuted in the box, but today has dawned foggy and damp but with no rain in the forecast, so it's off I go again on two wheels, hopefully with the actioncam on video this time.

Getting to work after a ride in is invigorating.  Instead of a tedious trundle in a car you're full of oxygen.  You've smelled everything on the way in and you're switched on because you never ride a bike half aware.

The other morning I was at an all day meeting only five minutes from home, so rather than go straight there I shot past it and went for a ride along the river.  I still ended up being one of the first to arrive, and I was cold but lit up in the way that only a bike ride can do.

At the end of a day of meeting about something I get the sense has already been decided (but we had to talk about it all day anyway - yes, it was tedious), instead of going home I took the bike down the Grand River to the covered bridge and then came back on the north shore.  Even a short, twenty minute ride like that put the spring back in my step and cleared away the Kafkaesque cobwebs in my head from that day of soul sucking, meaningless blah blah.

The foggy and damp ride in this morning.  The smell of earth and new shoots filled the heavy air as the Tiger purred to work...

Your Typical Sunday Ride Isn't My Typical Sunday Ride

a 260km amble around
theNiagara Escarpment.

I cranked out some miles on the Tiger this weekend.  On Saturday it was a 160km round trip down to Ancaster for a conference, on Sunday I left with a buddy from work along with his wife and son on a big 260km loop out to the Niagara Escarpment and back.

Jeff was two up on his new-to-him Goldwing and he son was on his dad's Super Ténéré.  We left Fergus following the Grand River and immediately came upon two cruisers burbling down the road next to each other.  Any questions I had about passing etiquette on other bikers were quickly put aside when Jeff dropped a gear and blew by the two of them without a second glance.   They (politely) went into single file so that we could catch the fleeing Goldwing without crossing a solid line.

Chasing the Noisy River into
Creemore is always a nice ride.

Elora to Creemore happened in a snap and the Tiger was becoming more and more familiar with each mile traveled.  Chasing the Noisy River into Creemore was well timed on empty roads and the Tiger and I had no trouble keeping up with the more experienced riders around me.

We stopped for lunch in Creemore and then helped a Harley rider try and jump start his dead, brand new bike (his typical Sunday ride, but I like my dependable, thirteen year old Triumph).  He eventually found a local who offered to jump start the bike from a truck.  After working up a sweat pushing a Harley up and down Main Street for a several minutes in our modern, textile body armor (while being watched by groups of leather clad bikers who I'm sure felt great kinship with the old fella whose bike wouldn't start, but not so much that they wanted to help), we headed south toward River Road.

In addition to being a windy road in a
place that doesn't have many, River
Road also has the benefit of taking
longer than five minutes to complete.

The River Road was a twisty delight.  Riding a bike is a fine thing, but the moment I'm off the crown of the tire I feel like I'm earning bonus points.  At my first training course towards the end of day two they set up cones and we were allowed to weave through them at speed and then ride a decreasing radius circle.  I stopped at one point and said to the instructor, "I could do this all day!"  The lean of a bike is nothing short of fighter-pilot magical (even Top Gear digs it).

River Road was a rollercoaster ride until we once again arrived on the tailpipe of a cruiser.  On any straight this guy would gun it, making a pass impractical (200km/hr passes, while possible, aren't wise on twisty country roads).  We spent the last bit taking the corners at floor board friendly speeds.

The action cam was clipped to a front
fairing for the twisty bits.

In Shelbourne there was a big, new sign advertising the Veteran's Highway pointing south, so rather than go over to the overcrowded Highway 10 I thought we should try it.  The moment we were past the last factory two hundred yards down the road the "Veteran's Highway" turned to dirt.  The Tiger seemed frisky and excited to be on the loose stuff, feeling very sure footed for such a big bike.  Behind me the Super10 was also rolicking in the gravel, but the two-up Goldwing?  When we stopped Jeff referred to it as an adventure two-up mobility scooter.  We turned left toward the highway at the first paved intersection.

The wave on River Road

Back at Highway 10 I once again suggested we push onto unknown roads in northern Mono Hills.  This road also quickly turned to gravel, but this time loose, twitchy gravel.  I'm bad at picking roads.  We ended up turning around and heading back to 10 before burning south and enjoying some time in Mono Hills and Hockley Valley.

We wrapped up the ride with a quick blast down the Forks of the Credit, which had the road closed into Belfountain, before heading back to Elora in lengthening shadows.

I got home sun and wind burned and wonderfully exhausted.  Can't wait to do it again!

Dropping into Hockley Valley.

That 'Lucifer Orange' paint just pops!

Working the corners of the Forks

Jeff making a three point turn on a Goldwing 2-up look easy.

Forks of the Credit: the road into Belfountain was closed, so a bevy of sports bikes were parked on the road.

The artful exhaust pipes on the Tiger.

Stopping for a break in Hockley Valley before heading down to the Forks of the Credit