This Month's Wish List

This changes moment to moment, but based on bikes I've actually thrown a leg over, and the shear avalanche of reports on the Ninja H2, I've got a couple of new machines on my wish list.

Sport Tourer:  Honda VFR800

It's a jewel like machine with beautiful finish.  It'll run all day, has a magic variable valve engine, and can corner with the best of them.  It also hits a nostalgic button with me.

$14,500

Bonkers Super Bike:  Kawasaki Ninja H2

A supercharger?  200+ horsepower?  It has wings for godsake!  It's a technological tour-de-force and one of a kind.  I used to be all wobbly over Hayabusas, but the H2 is a daring step in another direction.  It ain't cheap, but it'll be collectable one day.  If I were ever to do Bonneville, this'd be the bike to bring.

$27,500

Off-road ready Dual Sport: CCM 450 Adventure

A light-weight, off-road capable dual sport bike with a bullet-proof BMW engine that can handle everything from actually adventuring off road to long distance travel.  It's the bike that would get me coast to coast to coast in Canada.

$10,000 ?

Wow, that is a well groomed man.

Back To Basics:  Ducati Scrambler

An air cooled single that does the business and reminds you what motorbiking is all about.  Just you and the wind.  It's light, engaging and charismatic.  I'm in even if I do have trouble connecting with the demographic they are aiming at.  Under all the marketing the Scrambler is a lovely little machine that does the business.

Urban Enduro $9995

Scrambling Versys Thoughts

Some home-made Versys diagrams of what a high/scrambler
type exhaust might look like - it looks good!  I have to wonder
why Kawasaki never did this with the bike...

A more all round capable Versys...

The asymmetrical nature of the rear shock (only visible from the right side of the bike) means that, aesthetically, a high pipe might look balanced running up the left/empty side.

The pipes and muffler are all usually mounted at the bottom - not ideal for off roading where soft exhaust components can get pounded flat.  Having them wrap around the left hand side of the bike and finish up under the rear frame means a protected exhaust.  I've always wanted to try custom exhaust building, this might be my chance.

Pipes and muffler out of the way mean more ground clearance even with a steel skid plate installed.

At five kilos lighter and with a four horsepower bump, the Akropovic tail pipe for the ER6 motor (what the Versys has a version of) would lower weight while offering a gain in power.  The titanium tail pipe would also look good while not taking up too much space under the rear fender.

Creating a custom metal heat shield around the pipe would protect from burns while also protecting the pipe.  Most scrambler style/high exhaust pipe use this as an excuse to decorate.  The ER6 parallel twin is a very efficient and cool running engine.  Even the exhausts don't get nuclear hot.  With some careful routing and smart use of heat shields, this should be doable.

The new exhaust might upend the fueling, so this would be an ideal opportunity to try out a Power Commander and get into computerized fueling control for the first time.

The next step would be to find some scramblery tires.  A road focused tire with some off road capability would do the trick.  Fortunately, Pirelli's MT-60 dual sport tire not only gives the Versys some real off road capability, but it also improves road handling over the stock tires.  They come in Versys stock sizes (120/70-R17 fronts and 160/60-R17 rears) and cost about five hundred bucks for the pair online.

At under four hundred pounds the Versys is already a light machine.  The goal would be to make changes that don't add significantly to the weight.  This light weight, multi-purpose Versys makes for an interesting Swiss-Army knife of a bike.

You'd be hard pressed to find a
more neutral riding position.

A 1 inch seat rise only makes it
more relaxed and usable.

A taller rider online said that increasing his seat height made the bike an ideal long distance tool.  A number of places seem to offer that very modification.

The stock windshield is a bit weedy as well.  I got a Givi windshield for the Concours and think it a great piece of kit.  The Givi item for the Versys is slightly taller than stock (not a problem, I'll look over it anyway), but looks good.

The only other thing I would add is a top box, allowing for carrying smaller items while keeping the bike as narrow as possible.  I installed a Givi topbox on the Ninja and it worked well without being too bulky.  It also allowed my pillion a place to rest against.

I've found well used ('07, 80+k kms) Versys for $2800, and much less used ('09, <10k) Versys for $4500 online.  If I can unload the KLX for $2500, my son's little Yamaha for $600 and the XS1100 for $1000, that'll give me about $4000 to put into a relatively new, dependable, fuel injected bike that I can then begin modifying!

The mods listed here are as follows:
Custom pipe         =  tbd - most of this would be diy
Akropovic exhaust   = ~$500
Power Commander     = ~$400
Pirelli MT-60 tires = ~$500
Custom seat rebuild = ~$700
Givi windshield     = ~$180
Givi topbox & hw    = ~$400
                      -----
                      $2680 + diy exhaust piping            
Twisted Throttle's Versys ADV makes me want to add to this.

More Versatile Versys Links

http://www.motorcycle-usa.com/2011/12/article/2011-kawasaki-versys-project-part-2/

https://www.canadasmotorcycle.ca/pirelli-mt-60-rs-sport-corsa-rear-tire.html?gclid=Cj0KEQjwzq63BRCrtIuGjImRoIIBEiQAGLHdYWSmxI0JjOz5nLndRdEQqiUyqy2EV8vH2LIWmAgwsXkaAu8f8P8HAQ

http://www.motorbikesaddles.com/Kawasaki%20Versys%20Tall%20Seats.htm

http://www.kawasakiversys.com/forums/

http://www.pirelli.com/tyres/en-ww/motorcycle/all-tyres/sheet/mt-60-rs

http://www.giviluggage.co/givi-product-focus/bike-overview-kawasaki-er6-nf-05-08/

http://www.giviusa.com/my-motorcycle/kawasaki/versys-650-06-09/447fz-monorack-sidearms-detail

http://www.giviusa.com/givi-products/cases/monolock-cases/e340nta-34ltr-matte-black-case-detail

http://www.kijiji.ca/v-sport-touring/kitchener-waterloo/kawasaki-versys/1146380401?enableSearchNavigationFlag=true

http://www.twistedthrottle.ca/shop-by-bike/kawasaki/versys-650-07-09

http://www.twistedthrottle.ca/news-and-events/adventure-motorcycle-magazines-twisted-throttle-and-sw-motech-equipped-kawasaki-versys.html

The Damn It Moment

It was a good week of riding.  On Saturday, Sunday and Thursday I covered over six hundred kilometres around Southern Ontario.  

Saturday had us dancing around in front of the coming storm.  The horizon south of us was ominous to say the least.  We dodged and weaved but eventually rode into the curtain of rain only to have one of the old Kawasakis in the group (and I mean old, it was almost as old as I am) run rough when it got wet.  Fortunately we had already been to three local microbreweries and had loaded up on craft beers, so we were all set for a rainy evening indoors in Owen Sound.

Neustadt Brewery, where you find a variety of craft beers not available for general distribution.  The bikes ranged from a
modern GSX-R to forty year old Kawasakis, a modern Super Tenere, my Connie and a Triumph Scrambler.

Maclean's in Hanover, with impending doom on the horizon.

We rode into the rain and then away from it as quickly as possible - but it was coming again in 30 minutes!  In the
meantime the cranky old Kawi worked enough to get us home.

Not so happy in the rain (though the other 40 year old Kawi was flawless and my Connie ran like a Swiss watch).

Scrambler pipes in the rain.

After watching Canada's girls' team get kicked out of the world cup (but England won so I was still happy), we watched some Isle of Man TT, talked bikes and drank local brews.  The next morning the torrential rain continued.  After some hot coffee I hit the road to test my rain gear like never before, and get to the family cottage in Bobcaygeon where my wife and son were worrying about me.

I was the warm and dry centre of the universe making a Tim-on-a-Concours sized hole in the rain.  Since Jeff had told me to move the petcock from "Pri" to "On" (Pri doesn't mean the primary tank, it means prime, as in giving the engine lots of extra gas to start after being off for a long while), the Concours had developed a new smoothness with no more lumpy low RPM or gas burning backfires when I came off throttle.  With the Connie running better than ever I was ready for a challenge.

The south shore of Georgian Bay in Midland.

I tried to stop at Blue Mountain for breakfast where my son and I had gone ten weeks earlier on our first ride of the year, but it was a zoo.  I eventually found a Tim Hortons and had some hot tea and breakfast.  Pushing on from Collingwood I kept hoping I'd ride out of it, but it only came on heavier.

Riding in the rain is nice, everything smells fantastic and the colours are super saturated.  It gets less magical when you're doing it in heavy traffic.  Drivers see you even less than they normally do and you're dealing with spray and slick pavement as well.  Many moons ago a friend of mine (an ER nurse) invented the Trotter Precipitation Index, which theorized that driver IQ is inversely proportional to the amount of precipitation falling (drivers get dumber the more it rains).  I've generally observed this to be true, but it takes on terrifying new dimensions on a motorbike.

The slog in traffic from Collingwood to Orillia was tense and the rain had finally found a way into my rain gear, soaking my crotch.  Nothing makes you crankier than a wet crotch.

I'd been on the road about three hours when I got to Orillia.  I was on my way (still in heavy traffic) across the causeway on the north end of Lake Simcoe when everything stopped due to an accident.  The road was closed, it was pelting down with rain and so dark street lights were kicking on.  I pulled off into The Point restaurant and was saved with excellent service, hot coffee and home made soup.  I looked so bedraggled that the waitress didn't even charge me, but I left a big tip.

An hour later my core temperature was back up and I was uncramped and ready to take another run at this underwater ride.  The traffic had finally cleared and the road was reopened so I crossed the causeway and headed south around the east side of Simcoe.  No sooner had I saddled up than it began pelting down again.  My warmed up dampness became cold and rain soaked in short order, but I was closing in on my goal.

I pulled out of the stop-start traffic on the local through road and headed toward Beaverton and some dirt bike boots I saw on Kijiji, but missed a turn in the torrential rain and ended up 10 miles down the road I needed to take to the cottage before I realized I'd missed it.  I couldn't bring myself to turn around so I pushed on toward the finish line.

The air temperature was only about 15°C and I was soaked again.  Just when it looked like I had this thing in hand, and with no warning, the road was suddenly gone, replaced with deeply rutted mud and gravel.  The old guy ahead of me in his new SUV was worried about getting it dirty and kept stopping (!) in the mud while he tried to figure out where to drive next.  Ever tried riding a loaded Concours in ankle deep mud and ruts?  It isn't easy to keep upright, especially when you have to keep stopping and starting.

My Zen beginning to this trip was ebbing away.  I was cold, sore, and tired, and I'd missed my turn and a chance to pick up some lovely Alpinestars dirtbike boots for a song.  Now I was hanging on for dear life, trying to keep the big bike upright in this strange, slippery, grey mud.  To top it off I was stuck in traffic that had been inflicted with the TP Index.

I might have stopped but there was nowhere to do it.  Cars (but mostly SUVs) were splashing around in both directions, and I was covered in mud.  There were no shoulders to speak of.  At this point I started to get angry.  Alright, fuck this, I'm getting where I'm going instead of doubting myself.  Standing on the pegs I aimed the Concours around the deepest ruts (courtesy of yahoos in cars spinning out in the start-stop traffic) and picked my way through. When you take doubt out of your riding the bike responds to your determination with a sure footedness that I found encouraging.  Ten agonizing, slow and muddy kilometres later I emerged onto tarmac once again.

As I rolled into Fenelon Falls I grabbed the brakes for a stop sign and nothing happened.  The gravel they'd laid down in the construction was full of limestone dust and that grey paste had gotten into everything, especially my front brakes.  I got it stopped and pulled over for a pee in the rain.  By this point I was ready to pick up the bike on my back and carry it the rest of the way, some squishy brakes weren't going to slow me down (literally or figuratively).

I saddled up again and rode through Fenelon Falls which was backed up with cottage traffic.  Passing the mall some yahoo in a Mercedes SUV thought he'd suddenly pull out to get into the line of traffic inching along the other way.  I hit the brakes, skidding the back tire in the never-ending rain, he saw me at the last moment and stopped.  Had he hit me I'd have jumped through his windshield and beaten the shit out of him, I was pretty wound up at this point.  He got a fine what-the-hell-dude gesture but didn't want to make eye contact with the guy he almost hit so he could sit in a line of traffic.

I was finally out of Fenelon and on my way to Bobcaygeon.  The bike was running on empty, but I was ok with that, I still had miles of gravel fire roads before I got into the cottage and lighter would be more manageable.  I ignored the gas station in Bobcaygeon and pushed on to the cottage road with the odometer showing 236 miles since the last fill up.

The cottage road was slippery, but not like that damned construction, and it was graded properly.  I was making my way down this roller coaster of a road when the bike started to chug.  I was monkeying with the choke to keep it going when I remembered how low I was on gas.  A quick twist of the petcock to Reserve (which got me all the way back out four days later to fill up at 248 miles on the odo) made everything happy again and I road the final couple of miles without incident.

The cottage road - sort of like a rally stage.  The Concours was sure footed on the wet gravel.

It was still hosing down when I pulled into the cottage garage and took off my helmet with shaking hands.  Should I have stopped?  Hells no!  I was looking for a challenge and the weather, traffic and horrible roads had provided one.  Doing a difficult thing well is its own reward, and this epic submarine riding trek becomes another unforgettable experience that I can add to my riding résumé.

Still the most comfortable (and cheapest) helmet I own.  Hours in the rain it kept me dry, was virtually fog free (I waxed
the visor before leaving - water beaded off), and comfortable.

Jeff's heated gloves, waterproof for
the first couple of hours, then
soaked, but warm!

Parked in Fenelon Falls with dodgy brakes and a
'screw-it I'm getting there' attitude

Mud covered but parked in the cottage garage.

The next day (sure, whatever) the sun came out and everything was steaming.
It took the jacket and gloves two days to dry out.

Evolution of Motorcycle Ownership and a Triumphant Return

Back in August of 2014 I wanted to take a more active role in my motorcycle maintenance.  At that point I'd been riding for just over a year on my first bike, a very dependable 2007 Kawasaki Ninja 650r.  I learned a lot on that bike, but it was a turn-key experience, the bike needed very little in the way of maintenance.   

The Ninja went from flat black to metallic blue and orange.  It was the last bike I rode that people commented on (I'd often get a thumbs up or have someone stop and chat in a parking lot about how nice the bike looked, which was satisfying as I'd been instrumental in restoring it from angry-young-man flat black).  The Ninja was, without a doubt, a good introduction to motorcycling, and was the king of the roost for my first two seasons.

As a first bike, the Ninja led the way both on the road and at the top of the blog.

I wanted my next bike to be one that ran because of my mechanical skills rather than one that didn't need them.  I found a 1994 Kawasaki Concours sitting in some long grass about twenty minutes away.  I quickly discovered that sense of satisfaction I was looking for.  The Concours was an eager patient who rewarded a winter of mechanical work with a rock solid five thousand miles of riding the next summer.

The Concours has offered some memorable rides, especially looping Georgian Bay and riding on the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  For a bike that looked like it was being permanently parked with only 25k on it, suddenly it was back in the game, going places other bikes only dream of.

That busy season of long rides took its toll on the Concours though.  It isn't a spring chicken and after having spent the better part of two years parked before I got to it many of the soft parts on the bike were getting brittle.  I parked the Concours early and began winter maintenance knowing that the bearings and brakes both needed attention only to miss out on a late season warm spell at the end of November and into December.  I took that one on the nose figuring that's what happens when you ride an old bike as your daily rider.

The header on this blog for the past eighteen months, but running a twenty-two year old bike as your daily rider
makes for frustrations.  Time to be less sentimental and more rational in how I manage my stable.

That summer we were touring on the Concours I picked up a KLX250 to experience off road riding, but doubling insurance costs for a bike that I only managed to get out on a handful of times didn't feel very efficient.  That I struggled to keep up with traffic on it didn't support the way I like to ride.  Motorcycles are open and unprotected, but they are also agile and powerful enough to get out of a tight squeeze - except when they aren't.  The Concours was always there and the preferred ride, owning the road when I was on it.  When I went out with my co-rider he also loved the big red Connie, not so much the rock hard, under-powered KLX (he only ever rode on it once for less than five minutes).

Over the winter I put some money into the Concours, doing up the rims and getting new tires.  With the rims off I also did the bearings and brakes.  As everything came back together again, suddenly the carburetors weren't cooperating.  They're since being rebuilt and the bike should be back together again this weekend, but instead of always being there, suddenly the Concours wasn't.  As winter receded I could hear other bikes growling down the road, but I was grounded (again), even though I was paying insurance on two machines and longing to get back out on the road after an always too long Canadian winter.

The KLX was the first to go.  I'd never really bonded with it and, even though I always figured I'd run this blog with my most recent bike in the graphic at the top, the KLX never made it there; it never felt like the main focus of my motorcycling.  In the same week my son's never-ridden PW-80 got sold, and suddenly I had some money aside.

Ready to go with a new header, but it never took.

As days of potential riding keep ticking by and the carburetor work drags on, the Concours started to feel like an expensive anchor rather than the wings of freedom.  I had a long talk with my wife about it.  She asked why I don't unload it and get something dependable.  Keep the old XS1100 for that sense of mechanical satisfaction, but have a bike that's ready to ride.  I think sentiment was paralyzing me.  Hearing a rational point of view with some perspective really helped.

Many moons ago,
a pre-digital Triumph

With cash in an envelope I began looking around.  Before Easter we weathered an ice storm, but only two days later it was suddenly in the teens Celsius and bikes could be heard thundering down the road.  Meanwhile I was waiting for yet more parts for the Concours.  Online I was looking at sensible all purpose bikes that would fit a big guy.  Vstroms and Versys (Versi?) came and went, but they felt like a generic (they are quite common) compromise, I wasn't excited about buying one.

Since I started riding I've been on Triumph Canada's email list even though I've never come close to owning one (out of my league price-wise, no one else I know had one, no local dealer... pick your reason).  As a misguided teenager I purchased an utterly useless Triumph Spitfire, and in spite of that misery I've always had a soft spot for the brand (your adolescent brain makes your teenage experiences sparkle with emotion even when you're older, that's why we all still listen to the music from our teens).

A Tiger?  On Kijiji?  Must have
escaped from a zoo!

While trawling around on Kijiji looking at hordes of generic, look-a-like adventure bikes I came across an actual Tiger.  It was (as are all Triumphs I've mooned over) too expensive for me, but that Lucifer Orange (!) paint haunted me.

Another rare warm afternoon wafted by with the sounds of motorcycles on the road so I thought, what the hell, and emailed the owner.  He'd been sitting on the bike for the better part of two months with no calls.  He was going down to the Triumph dealer on Thursday to trade it in on a new Street Triple and knew he was going to get caned by them on the trade in price.  He emailed me back and said if I had three quarters of what he'd been asking, he'd rather sell it to me than give the dealer the satisfaction.  Suddenly this fantastic looking machine was plausible.

The garage is 100% more functional than it was last week,
100% more glamorous too!

A trip up to Ontario's West Coast and I got to meet a nice young man who was a recent UK immigrant and a nuclear operator at the Bruce Plant.  The bike was as advertised (well looked after, second owner, some minor cosmetic imperfections), and suddenly I owned a freaking 2003 Triumph Tiger 955i!

Most used bikes offer up some surprises when you first get them, and they usually aren't nice surprises.  The Ninja arrived with wonky handlebars the previous owner told me nothing about.  The XS1100 arrived with no valid ownership, something the previous owner failed to mention during the sale.  So far the Tiger has had nice surprises.  It arrived with a Triumph branded tank bag specific to the bike.  Oh, by the way, the previous owner said, the first owner put a Powercommander on it, and then he handed me the USB cable and software for it.  It had also been safetied in October, less than two hundred kilometres ago (paperwork included), so while I didn't buy it safetied, it shouldn't be difficult to do.  The bike has fifty thousand kilometres on it, but I then discovered that the first owner did two extended trips to Calgary and back (10k+ kms each time) - so even though it's got some miles on it, many of them are from long trips that produce minimal engine wear.  After giving it a clean the bike has no wonky bits under the seats or anywhere else.  I cannot wait to get riding it.

So, here I am at the beginning of a new era with my first European bike.  I've finally picked up a Triumph from the other side of the family tree (the bike and automobile manufacturing components of Triumph split in 1936), and I've got a bike I'm emotionally engaged with.  It might even be love!  Like the BMW I rented in Victoria, the controls seem to fit my hands and feet without feeling cramped and the riding position is wonderfully neutral.  When I'm in the saddle my feet are flat on the ground - just. Best of all, I don't look like a circus bear on a tricycle on it.


With the Concours officially decommissioned and awaiting (what are hopefully) the last parts it needs before being road worthy again, it's time to update the blog header:

What's next?  The Concours will be sold with only a modicum of sentiment, the Tiger will be safetied and on the road (it cost $90 a year more than the Concours to insure), and I'll enjoy having an operational, trustworthy machine made in the same place I was with lots of life left in it.  The fact that it was getting me thumbs up and one guy stopping to say what a nice bike it was when it was on the trailer on the way home doesn't hurt either.  Riding a tiger has a certain magic to it.

When I want to turn a wrench I'll work on the XS, getting it rolling again for the first time in years.  I'll get the ownership sorted on it (affidavits are required!) and eventually sell it without losing a penny, and then I'll go looking for my next project bike.  Maybe a scrambler Versys, maybe an old Interceptor, maybe something I haven't thought of yet.

Time for some unbridled Tiger enthusiasm!

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, 
In the forests of the night; 
What immortal hand or eye, 
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies. 
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain, 
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp, 
Dare its deadly terrors clasp! 

When the stars threw down their spears 
And water'd heaven with their tears: 
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright, 
In the forests of the night: 
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

My First Distinguished Gentleman's Ride

I'm going to get past my age related hipster-imposter-syndrome and commit to taking part in the The Distinguished Gentleman's Ride this year, complete with ascot and tweed.  I bet I have a pillion willing to dress up and join me.  I'm hoping I can channel my granddad's riding style when I do it.

From my DGR Suggestion from the summer of 2020.

My '03 Triumph Tiger also struggles with the idea of being a faux-classic hipster style icon (DGR likes classics or faux classics to fit the image - I'd argue the Tiger is a kind of, um, scrambler?).  Tigger's too genuine for that kind of style police nonsense, but it's an old warhorse with over 80k on it from another era so we're both going to commit.  I wouldn't take the C14, that's missing the point, but the Tiger deserves the work.

The Concours is a fine thing and my wife and I are enjoying the rides together, but the old Tiger is still my two-wheeled spirit animal.

The question now is do we fight our way into the misery that is the GTA for an event in the Six with hundreds of riders or enjoy a similarly (time wise) ride through the country to London for a smaller event with far fewer riders but without the traffic?

There are many Canadian DGR events forming this spring to ride on Sunday, May 22nd:  Get out to one if you can, and don't be anxious about not meeting the hipster bike style code (though do dress nicely).

This is last year's poster - I'm sure they'll come up with a 2022 one shortly (it's on Sunday, May 22nd.)

Tragic Emptiness, New Possibilities

...and then there was one.

The Ninja was gone in six days, sold the first weekend I had it up for sale.  If you're looking to move your bike, prep it for spring and wait for the temperatures to promise spring, you'll have a quick sale.

I was asking $3900, but figured it would need some work done to safety, so I had a $500 cushion in there.  It went for $3200 as is, no extra cost on my part.  I'm happy with that, I bought it for $3500 safetied two years ago and put four thousand miles on it.

I've spent the last couple of days putting time into the Concours, getting it ready for launch...

I need to put some miles on this bike so I can begin believing that I can trust it.  I took it around the block today to warm up the final drive before changing out the fluid - that's the last fluid change on the bike, everything is new and synthetic now.

Around the block to warm up the final drive oil, and now it's changed with synthetic.  First time in that new jacket and
helmet too.  Both feel like quality compared to the bargain basement stuff I started with.

I'm still wandering around online looking at a very different second bike.  The KLX250 is on my short list now after seeing that one with a big bore kit.  We did our bike course on Yamaha 250s and I loved how light and flickable they were.  Having a small enduro would be the night and day difference I'd be looking for in having two bikes, not to mention it'd be very cheap to run.  If I had five grand laying about, I'd chuck it at a new one.

I suspect the Concours will need more TLC than the Ninja did, but if it turns out to be pretty bullet proof, a second bike with character could be this interesting '70s Yamaha.  I'd be able to get my scrambler vibe on with that!