It took me almost a month to slowly work my way through this complex piece of media. I originally came across an excerpt from it in Bike Magazine and it was so moving that I immediately purchased it. I'm generally not a fan of coffee table books. I've always thought of them as flash over substance and a decoration for yuppies to strategically place in their perfect living rooms to impress guests. It took some powerful writing in that excerpt to overpower my prejudice about this format, and I'm glad it did. Writing is only a small part of this 'book', and calling it a book isn't really fair to it. This is a piece of art; it feels more like you're walking through an emotionally powerful art exhibit. The author, Todd Blubaugh, was a photographer by trade, so this all starts to make sense as you fall into his aesthetic. Between the pages of powerful and technically complex photography you find short pieces of narrative text that pin down the corners of Todd's six month quest for meaning after his parent's unexpected death in a car accident.
If you've lost a parent in unexpected circumstances with things left unsaid, Todd's meditative ride around the continental U.S. will raise a lot of your own ghosts. This was one of the reasons I savoured it so slowly. After reading each emotional upper cut, you're immersed in several pages of photography of life on the road. Working in black and white on a film camera, Todd's images tend toward startlingly frank personal portraits of the people that he meets on his travels. Todd must be a particularly disarming fellow as he's able to catch people with almost animal like honesty - were I able to do this, I'd be much more interested in human portraiture. As it is, it's a joy to see a master like this at work.
As you travel with Todd further into his trajectory away from the things that anchor most people to their lives (job, family), he surprises you with artifacts from his parent's lives. At moments like this the book feels more like a scrapbook or family album, with news articles about his Dad's tour in Vietnam and his mother's paintings offering you further insight into the scope of his loss. The letter from his Dad at the end of the book had me in tears.
Todd tells two entwined and complex stories in Too Far Gone. His disassociation from the habitual, stationary life that most people live reaches a climax in a conversation with an old sailor that will leave you, along with Todd himself, staring into the abyss. Free from the responsibilities most of us labour under, Todd is able to focus on his loss with such a startling clarity that it will shake you. This book pressed a lot of buttons for me. As a photographer I greatly enjoyed Todd's eye, even (and especially because?) it is so different from my own. Todd's relationship with motorcycling (old Harleys and biker culture) is also about as different from mine as can be, yet the sense of brotherhood still felt strong because Todd is never once preachy or superior about his infatuation. Instead, his honest love of motorbikes comes across loudly, and that is something we share. As someone who lost a parent and experienced that same phone call out of the blue, Todd's experience is something that cuts me deep. In coming to understand Todd's relationship with his dad I can't help but reflect on my own difficult and distant relationship with my father. I lost the parent that I most identified with and have a challenging relationship with the other one, but Todd's parent's were still together and he lost both at once. It's the things left unsaid that gnaw at you afterwards, and losing both parents together while they are still paragons in your life is something I can only imagine. We all lose our parents eventually. If you haven't yet, this book will give you an emotionally powerful idea of how it feels, and how someone has worked through the scars of that experience. If they're already gone, your sympathy will create powerful echoes. There are a few motorcycling themed books that plumb philosophical depths. Zen And The Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Shop Class As Soulcraft in particular have spoken intelligently and deeply about the meditative nature of motorcycling. Too Far Gone is a multi-media, large format book that takes you to the same place through different mediums, but it does it while also offering an emotional intelligence that is hard to find anywhere else. Immerse yourself in this book, you won't be disappointed.
What you need and nothing else. After six months on the road Todd looks as homeless as he is, and has to make a decision...
The greatest single downward pressure on the infamous motorcycle equation is the way you're worked over by insurance for them, especially in Ontario. If you own one bike you're likely to be paying about $700 a year if you're an experienced rider. If you're new you can pretty much double that. If you buy a second bike, against all logic you're basically doubling your insurance. Even though two bikes mean you're only spending half as much time on each, you get nothing back for that. If the motorcycle industry wanted to sell more bikes, pressuring the Ontario government to make fair insurance premiums would be a good way to do it. If you're paying $700 a year to ride a bike, it should be less than half that to insure a second bike, not double that. Since you can't be on both bikes at once your chances of needing insurance drop dramatically. What would be fair would be only applying the stationary insurance (theft, fire, etc) to a second bike, and perhaps a small fee for the paperwork. Owning two bikes does not mean double the liability, which is the lion's share of an insurance premium. I'd happily budget $1000 a year instead of the $600 I pay for insurance and triple the number of bikes I've got licensed. That's three times as many vehicles paying road and license plate tax - which helps out the government, and the insurance company themselves would be making more with no increase in liability. If only they could get past the short term money-grab philosophy they currently run with. As it stands the ROI on a $2000 a year insurance bill makes it not worth pursuing. What would that expanded motorcycle stable look like? Canada's short riding season means you need to have machine turn-key ready for the few days you can get out and enjoy the weather without it trying to kill you. I'm currently riding a fourteen year old Triumph Tiger as my go-to bike. It has been great, but depending on a bike that old isn't really fair to it. At The Forks of the Credit last weekend we had the oldest bike there by a decade. I get a great deal of pride out of that, but I don't want to start hating on the Triumph if it suddenly develops a fault. That happened with the KLX and it was gone shortly thereafter. A new bike would definitely be in the cards. I've long had a crush on Honda VFRs, and they make a great all rounder. A sporty bike that can also cover distances, and when I sat on one they felt quality, almost jewel like. As an it'll-always-be-ready-to-run, dependable bike, it's a solid choice. The website is saying this is a $15,000 proposition, but I'm sure I just saw them on sale for a touch over $10,000.
On a naked choice for a new bike I still tend toward the Kawasaki Z bikes. The Z1000 with its cat like robotic stance has long scratched an anime aesthetic itch for me, but the new Z900 does too. With the taller comfort seat it would fit me well. The bike is under $10k and looks fantastic. A new Kawasaki, like a new Honda, would be bullet proof and a good choice for an always-ready dependable motorbike. Both the Honda & the Z could also handle track days. The Tiger does a good job of two up riding (it's a big bike), but sometimes I miss the road focused athleticism of the Concours. The new one looks spectacular in Candy Imperial Blue. As a two up tourer it approaches the Goldwing and other dedicated touring machines, but it retains its sports bike heritage, evaporating weight and feeling more like a Ninja in the corners. It's a big bike, but I'm a big guy and I look like I fit on it. With a dedicated long distance road tool like this, perhaps the Tiger would become more adventury in purpose.
With the Tiger and one of the above on hand, in a more insurance friendly situation I'd also have a third bike that would let me focus on the off-road aspects of riding. I learned that a 240lb guy on a KLX250 does not add up, so I'd be looking for a 300+cc off roader so that I could keep up with traffic when on the road. The DRZ-400 Suzuki has long looked like the bike of choice. They come up occasionally online. If insurance weren't killing it, I'd already own one. With some frame guards and good sump protection, this would be the bike I'd trail ride and explore farm tracks on without worrying about a traffic line up behind me when I'm on the road. The Tiger is dependable and a good two up ride, so I suspect I'd pass on the Concours. Today the three bike stable would be the Tiger, the VFR and the DR-Z 400; a Triumph, a Honda and a Suzuki, but in other circumstances it could be a Kawasaki heavy garage. If the Tiger weren't the brick house that it is, I'd have a Concours, a Z900 and maybe even a KTM in the stable... if only I could pay fair insurance rates on them.
We lose tax and hurt many industries that support motorcycle sales, repair and accessories. Only one industry benefits from how we do this.
The sedendary gamerz don't do well in VR - it demands some athleticism. Our highest scorer on Space Pirate Trainer is a black belt.
I teach computer and software engineering when I'm not motorbiking. This year I'm also doing a Ministry of Education grant on virtual reality research with some other teachers in my school board and it has left me wondering about how immersive simulation might work with motorcycles. We have an Oculus Rift and an HTC Vive in our lab at school, so we can look into software development on two of the largest immersive virtual reality platforms. VR has split into a couple of different camps. You've got the cheap viewmaster style of VR like Google Cardboard that uses your smartphone to produce quick and easy 3d visual experiences. At the other end of the spectrum you've got the fully immersive systems like our Vive, Oculus and Sony's PlaystationVR. These systems are still pretty expensive, but they work surprisingly well for first generation devices - I often have students come out of them as though they are waking up surprised to find themselves back at school. VR, whether it's a simple smartphone enabled device or the fully immersive kind, has a great deal of emotional impact.
Chris Milk, a music video director, gives you some deep, professional insights into immersive video; it isn't the next medium, it's the last medium.
How could VR be used in the motorcycle industry? If you want to see a new bike in 3D to get a sense of what it looks like in the flesh, looking at it on a 2D monitor won't do a good job. Google cardboard and a smartphone are all you need to see in 3D. If that isn't a cheap and obvious tool for dealers looking to advertise motorcycles, I don't know what is - Jaguar is already doing it. I suspect you're going to start seeing simple VR viewing kits included in smartphone packages in the future as the advertising power of immersive medium becomes more apparent.
I got this on email from Telus six hours after posting this story - am I good or what?
The immersive simulation served up in VR has real emotional impact on customers looking to make a decision. You wouldn't be limited to a bike model either. Taking a 360° video of a walk through of your showroom would allow customers to virtually see many bikes in 3d along with having a sales presence at their beck and call with no threat of pressure. Virtually checking out a showroom before you make the trip over there is going to be a key sales hook in the future.
Virtually experiencing the factory where your favorite manufacturer produces your dream machine? Can you imagine the brand loyalty generated? VR is an intensely personal experience - your fans would feel like they had been on a VIP tour after that. This kind of intimacy in marketing has a powerful effect.
Beyond the 3d imaging offered by basic VR, fully immersive systems offer a level of experiential training that is otherwise cost prohibitive. The thousand dollar headsets might seem expensive, but last year at the Skills Canada National Competition I was talking to a company that makes tree harvesting systems for the forestry industry. These mechanized systems cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. Up until the past couple of years a new operator had to learn by sitting in the real deal. When they broke blades or damaged robotic arms it cost big money in both equipment and lost harvesting time. At last year's Skills Competition they had one of their new VR training systems - an operator's chair surrounded by an accurate recreation of the physical controls hooked up to a VR headset. Suddenly you're in a forest grabbing trees with a million dollar tool and learning how to best operate the machine. They could simulate failures and varying conditions as well. These $10,000 a seat systems saved millions in their first year of use. New operators could spend many hours learning the system before ever setting foot in the real thing, and poor operators could be selected out before ever doing any damage.
Riders seldom get a chance to ride a bike before they buy them. VR could change all that. A system of wireless sensors could be attached to any motorcycle in the showroom. With the bike wheel locked onto a simple pitch/yaw/roll mechanism, you could experience the ergonomics of your specific machine without ever turning over the engine. Specs could then be loaded into the VR simulator and then you go for a ride, virtually. You would get a personalized, immersive audio and visual experience while feeling how you fit on the machine without using any gas or depreciating any new model. This kind of experience is very engaging. I suspect the sales rate after such a VRride would be exceptional - it would also be a draw to get customers into the showroom.
Specialized simulators for racing are another obvious training tool. Riding and racing schools, teams and other specialists could offer VR as a first, less expensive step into everything from working out the basic controls of the machine for a beginner to Jorge Lorenzo trying various lines around a track while experiencing suspension and engine setting changes before doing it in the flesh.
Even the first generation immersive VR systems we have now would be capable of offering this level of training. They've only been out for a year or so (we ordered our Vive last April), but the possibilities around this emerging technology make my glad I have early adopter experience with it. A couple of students dropped by the lab the other day wanting to try it out (it generates buzz even in students not taking computer tech). After half an hour trying out Tiltbrush, Google Earth and our new Oculus handsets one of the girls took the headset off with stars in her eyes and said, "wow! This is the future!"
In five years it is entirely possible that tens of thousands of people will have a much more intimate idea of what it feels like to be Valentino Rossi on a perfectly tuned Yamaha M1. Pretty cool, eh?
Things have tightened up around the total solar eclipse that crosses The States in August. If I can make it back for the 23rd I've got a conference I can attend to demonstrate virtual reality, and who wouldn't want to do that? The conference would also pay for the trip, so that's nice. Timing and weather are the key factors in making this work. This eclipse is also a two for one deal because it happens right over the Tail of the Dragon at about 2:30pm on August 21st.
There are a lot of very detailed maps out there showing you where the path of totality is thundering across the Earth's surface at over six hundred miles per hour. From 1:05pm local time to about 4pm is the time it takes for the moon to go tip to tip over the sun. Totality only lasts from 2:33:54pm to 2:36:25pm - a scant two and a half-ish minutes, then daylight returns.
I've seen partial eclipses before but I've never seen totality, so that's the goal (that and riding the Dragon). Fortunately Deal's Gap and the road to the Fontana Dam are right in the path of this once in a life time (in North America) event. I've got to boogie home after seeing totality. If I'm on the road by 3pm local time, how much time can I make before stopping for the night? Now for the iron-butt portion of the trip. The conference kicks off late morning on Wednesday, August 23rd in Toronto. As long as I've gotten my ass home by Tuesday night, all is good in the world. It's a 360 mile interstate blast to Dayton, Ohio (home of Les Nessman!). Google Maps says just over six hours. With a couple of stops call it seven. If I'm on the way by 3pm, I should be stopping for the night between 9 and 10pm - just after a late summer sunset. Day two is a long distance run up to the Canadian border and back home - just over four hundred miles. If I were under way by 9am, with a few stops and some lunch, I'd be home by 6pm-ish; totally doable.
With the back end compressed, the front end of the trip becomes my only chance to ride the Appalachians on the way down...
South through Buffalo and into the mountains, then it's three days of winding Appalachian roads and Blue Ridge Parkways south to Cherokee in the heart of the Smokey Mountains. If I left on the Thursday before, I could do Thursday and Friday nights on the road south, Saturday and Sunday nights in Cherokee near the Tail of the Dragon, Monday night near Cincinnati on the way back and then home again. It's a lot more interstate than I'd normally go looking for, but it's still a once in this lifetime opportunity.
It crawled up to near double digits on Saturday, April 1, so Max and I took the Tiger by the tail and went for our first ride over to The Forks of the Credit. On our way over to Erin we were stopped at a light when a truck passed us carrying an spanking new Africa Twin - very nice. The truck driver was giving us thumbs up and we gave 'em right back. We stopped at the Busholme in Erin for a warming lunch; 8°C on a motorbike will cool you off quickly. It's now on Max's places to eat memory map. After a quick stop at Holtom's Bakery we headed over to the Forks and did a lap...
The ride from Belfountain out to Highway 10 was lovely - clear of speedbumps (both on the road and the four wheeled kind). It was cold and there was still a lot of snow runnoff crossing the road, but I could let the bike go as fast as it felt comfortable without having to worry about some Ontario numpty in a box in front panicking that the road actually has curves on it. On the ride back to Belfountain for my first coffee of the year at Higher Ground, we quickly caught up with just such a numpty driving a Subaru WRX... and he was driving it like he stole it his grandmother. Baffled by every bend in the road, this toolasaurus in his rally car practically stopped every time the road got interesting. Max and I, two up on our fourteen year old adventure bike almost pulled off to let this guy have his moment of sheer driving brilliance. I guess that's why you buy a forty thousand dollar rally car knock off and then drive it out to one of the few twisty roads in the area. Soon enough we got to Higher Ground where only the very serious people were out. The parking lot was littered with half a dozen BMW adventure bikes, a Ducati Multistrada and two Triumph Tigers once we got there. Ours was the oldest bike by ten years. There were a lot of peaked adventury helmets and Klim clothing. Everyone felt very robust and adventurous.
Off the bike it was twelve degrees and sunny, so looking at all the bikes and chatting with the other riders was a nice break from the frost bite at speed. We wrapped up our coffee break and took Mississauga Road north past the ski hill still thick with snow before heading back home a bit wind burned and out of practice saddle sore, but happy to have gotten the first two up ride of the year in.
Loading up at High Ground for the Ride home.
Mississauga Road north behind another four wheeled speed bump
A veil of beautifully scalloped clouds followed us all the way home.
Max took these - evidently he was quite taken with the farkly R1200...
All taken from the 360Fly4k suction cupped to the wing mirror and edited in-camera.
Some media from the first week of regular (twice!) commuting:
A tiger's eye view of the ride in to work. About 4°C and a bit damp. That afternoon was up to 12°C and I comfortably took the long way home. Both videos use the high speed video capture option within the Fly360 (long motorcycle videos are tedious):
Photos and video screen grabs from the rides all on the 360Fly4k - great resolution but it isn't really a 360° camera like the Ricoh Theta is with a large blank area around the base. If you mount it facing up it doesn't see the bike. The photo on the left shows the full range of view - if it was a true 360°view you'd see where the bike was going too. The Theta stitches two of those globes together giving you a true 360° capture. It's also much smaller and easier to clip onto a motorbike. Having a physical button to take photos and move between video and photo mode while on the go is also helpful. The Fly can only be operated through your smartphone, which isn't possible while in motion (well, I guess it is, but you'll probably end up wrapped around a tree and the copper who sees you with a phone in your hand will loose his mind). Editing is a whole other thing. I find the 360 Director software buggy at best. PoV in camera editing doesn't seem to pick up when you ask it to render. I can get it to go about one third of the time. The resolution of the Fly is excellent, and it does an ok job in low light considering that it isn't really designed for it. The Fly is also weather proof, so you're not worrying about the odd drop of rain like I did with the Theta. The long and the short of it is, if you're looking for resolution and clarity, the Fly's your choice, just be prepared to stick it in some strange places because it can't see everything. If you want ease of editing in a small camera with true 360° video and photography, the Theta's where you should go. These are all taken with it suctioned to the inside of the windshield and pointed back at me...
It took me almost a month to slowly work my way through this complex piece of media. I originally came across an excerpt from it in Bike Magazine and it was so moving that I immediately purchased it. I'm generally not a fan of coffee table books. I've always thought of them as flash over substance and a decoration for yuppies to strategically place in their perfect living rooms to impress guests. It took some powerful writing in that excerpt to overpower my prejudice about this format, and I'm glad it did.
Todd tells two entwined and complex stories in Too Far Gone. His disassociation from the habitual, stationary life that most people live reaches a climax in a conversation with an old sailor that will leave you, along with Todd himself, staring into the abyss. Free from the responsibilities most of us labour under, Todd is able to focus on his loss with such a startling clarity that it will shake you.
The greatest single downward pressure on the infamous motorcycle equation is the way you're worked over by insurance for them, especially in Ontario. If you own one bike you're likely to be paying about $700 a year if you're an experienced rider. If you're new you can pretty much double that. 
On a naked choice for a new bike I still tend toward the Kawasaki Z bikes. The Z1000 with its cat like robotic stance has long scratched an anime aesthetic itch for me, but the new Z900 does too. With the taller comfort seat it would fit me well. The bike is under $10k and looks fantastic. A new Kawasaki, like a new Honda, would be bullet proof and a good choice for an always-ready dependable motorbike. Both the Honda & the Z could also handle track days.
The Tiger is dependable and a good two up ride, so I suspect I'd pass on the Concours. Today the three bike stable would be the Tiger, the VFR and the DR-Z 400; a Triumph, a Honda and a Suzuki, but in other circumstances it could be a Kawasaki heavy garage. If the Tiger weren't the brick house that it is, I'd have a Concours, a Z900 and maybe even a KTM in the stable... if only I could pay fair insurance rates on them.
