Road Trip Insanity

Over thirteen hundred kilometres in two days? Bring the pain!

I'm still looking for a DRZ-400.  I just found one way up in Thunder Bay.  Here's a stupid but interesting idea:  fly up Friday, pick up the bike Saturday morning and ride it home by Sunday night.

Leave Saturday morning from Thunder Bay and trace the north shore of Gitchegumee to Sault Ste. Marie where I'd overnight Saturday after my first nearly 700km day.

Sunday morning would have me up early to tackle the final 650kms home.  At least I'd be able to pass out on the ferry from Manitoulin to Tobermory.

Insane?  Probably, especially on a 400cc dual sport bike mainly designed for the dirt, but that's also what would make it interesting.

Pearson to Thunder Bay late on a Friday night, about three hundred bucks

It's nearly June and they are still below zero overnight in Thunder Bay, so it'd be a bag of layers I'd be bringing up with me.  The riding temperature range may go from around zero all the way up into the thirties, so flexibility is key!  A water proof duffel bag for the back of the bike would work as carry on luggage and a universal way to carry gear on the bike.

In that bag I'd chuck a helmet and goggles, a face scarf, motorcycle jacket, pants and rain gear.  I'd wear bike boots onto the plane.  Repair wise I'd bring a mini tool kit and some chain lube.  Clothing would have to be everything from polar fleece to thin cotton to cover the possible temperatures.

A nice, clean, low km bike ready for an insane trip home?

It's buying an unknown bike from a stranger, though this particular one is low kms and looks very well looked after.  There are things I could do to ensure the bike is ready to go.  With some emails between the seller I think I could convince them to prep the bike for the trip as part of the purchase price.  I'm not sure about the legal requirements but if they safety it and scan it to me I could appear up there with plates, ownership and insurance ready to go.

So what would this buy-a-bike-instant-road-trip insanity cost?  They are asking $3500 for this '07 Suzuki with 14,000kms on it.  I'd be ok with the asking price if it includes the safety and prep for the return trip.  On top of that I'm looking at about $300 for the flight up there, $300 for hotels on the way back down and sundry costs (gas, food, ferry, etc).  Lets say another $300.  Forty four hundred bucks for the DRZ I'm looking for and an insane road trip to boot from The North?  Sounds like a fun weekend!

If I had more disposable income I'd be dangerous!

One Lap of Japan

7940kms... according to Google Maps

Another dream trip.

I've done most of the north end of the main island in a car, and traveled as far south as Kyoto by train, but the motorbike offers a new way to see the archipelago.

Google maps suggests that this can be done in 6 days and 16 hours, that's at a continuous average of 50kms/hr 24 hours a day.  Assuming we'd want to sleep and eat, the old two to three tanks a day might be the way to go.

At two tanks a day (about 600kms depending on the bike), we'd be back to Narita in just over thirteen days.  Call it two weeks of steady riding.

Being what it is (a volcanic island chain), there aren't many straight roads in Japan, especially if we want to stick to the coast.

When you're riding around volcanoes,
the roads get creative

The epic ferry ride to Okinawa in the south is almost a day in itself.  The riding would never be boring, and it would be miles away from interstate mile making.  Japan is a crowded but super organized kind of place, you can get places as long as you avoid the major urban centers.

Late summer would avoid the tsuyu (rainy season), so landing in Narita in the last week of August, then head north, do Hokkaido, then down the Japan sea coast to the south end of Honshu, a long ferry ride across the East China Sea to Okinawa, two days circumnavigating the island before taking a slow boat back to Honshu.  The last leg would be up the Pacific side of Honshu, through Kyoto and Tokyo and back to Narita.

It'd be nice to do the trip while riding the Japanese bike industry.  Split into four sections, we could ride Honda, Kawasaki, Suzuki and Yamaha for a quarter of the trip each.  That way we could meet up with various clubs and groups without being manufacturer specific.  Riding all four big Japanese manufacturers also lets us experience the fantastic bikes Japan makes.

Two weeks, some serious mileage, from a tropical 26 degrees above the equator in Okinawa (roughly in line with central India) to a northern 45.5 degrees at the top of Hokkaido (right next door to Russia),  we'll experience everything from palm trees to snow.  It is entirely possible to climb five thousand feet if we're working our way through mountainous areas and wind up at sea level again by night fall.

Two weeks would be intense, but that's kind of the point.  The route picked out avoids any repeated tarmac other than driving on and off one ferry.  Every mile would be new as we circumnavigate these beautiful islands.

Replacing Perished Rubbers

I got replacement rubber bits for the now fifteen year old Triumph Tiger 955i in before Christmas, but the weather has been so diabolically cold that even with a propane heater in the garage, the floor is still radiating negative thirty degrees and working in there is a misery.  We finally had a break in temperature this weekend so I got a chance to fit new rubber on the Tiger...

It's only -1°C out there, so it's garage door open time!

My targeted bits were the rubber covers on the mirror stalks, which aren't that important but you see a lot of them while you're riding and they bothered me.  The shift leaver rubber has been held together with Gorilla Tape for the better part of a year (that's some tough tape) and one of the rubber bits that go between the seat and the frame had disappeared, so I was aiming to replace that too so the seat would sit evenly and there would be no metal on metal rubbing.

The shift leaver was a simple thing.  I cut off the tape and the old rubber which was half torn.  With the new rubber warmed up and some WD40, the new bit slid on fairly easily.

The mirror arm rubbers were equally straight forward.  The mirror is on a threaded end.  Undoing that and the nut under it that holds it tight meant I could slide the mirror rubbers off.  The old ones were cracked in multiple places and barely hanging on.  I cleaned up the threads and metal under which was a bit rusty, put some rust paint on there to make sure none comes back and slid the new rubber covers on.  Another quick fix.

The problems arose when I tried to fit the seat rubbers.  I suspect the dealer sent me the wrong bits.  The rubbers that sit between the adjustable seat height bracket under the seat and the frame are circular with a flexible back that holds them to the frame.  Strangely, there don't seem to be any listed on the OEM parts blowups.  What I got were some pieces of rubber with sticky backing that aren't even the same thickness as the circular rubber grommets.

I'd shrug it off but at $3.30 plus tax and shipping for each of these sticky rubber bits, I'm out fifteen odd bucks in parts that seem to have nothing to do with what I was trying to fix.  I did send photos of the parts required and I thought we were clear on what was needed.  Rather than flush more money on parts I didn't ask for, I found a rubber grommet that was a bit too big and cut it down to fit the hole.  It's a snug fit and compresses to about the same thickness as the other grommets.  I might eventually get four matching rubber grommets just to make things even down there, but for now the seat isn't uneven and the frame isn't metal rubbing on metal.

The winter maintenance on the Triumph has been pretty straightforward this year.  Last year I did the fork oil, spark plugs, air filter and coolant and upgraded the dodgy plastic fuel line connectors, so this year the only maintenance was my usual end of season oil change.  I run the bike on the Triumph suggested Mobil1 10w40 motorcycle specific oil and I change it once at the end of the season.

The perished rubbers thing was as much an aesthetic choice as it was a performance fix.  Little details like rubber pieces on an older bike bring it back into focus.  Regularly watching Car SOS buying full sets of rubbers for older cars they are restoring probably intensified the urge.




Since I purchased the Tiger almost two years ago I've done all the fluids and changed the tires which produced a much more road capable bike (the old ones were well past due).  I've also replaced the chain, but other than these rubber bits and the fuel fittings last winter I haven't replaced anything that wasn't a regular service item.  The old Tiger has been a trustworthy steed.

I'm usually able to steal a ride toward the end of winter as the sunlight returns and we get the odd warm day with dry roads.  With any luck I'm only a few weeks away from stealing another one.  The Tiger's ready for it.

Past Another Cold, Dark Winter

 I'm getting back out with regularity now that the worst of the winter is past. Both of the regular road bikes are fit and took to the road effortlessly. I had a bit of a breakthrough with the Concours14 last year and we're understanding each other a bit more. It's a big old bus but it's remarkably agile for how big it is and we've come to a kind of mutual kinesthesis, but I still took the Tiger out first because it's like putting on an old shoe....

... and we picked up right where we stopped. The goal is still to get to 100k this year in the bike's 20th year on the road, and I think we're good to get there.

I took the Tiger out again for some exercise in the gaps between snow and ice at the end of March....

But when I took both bikes out between the ice storms of April (isn't Canada magical?)...

I enjoyed the Connie so much that in another break in this never ending winter last week the C14 got pulled out in front of the Tiger (which enjoys pride of place in the garage).

I took the bigger road home and passing cars was like being on an arrow loosed from a bow; what a monster that bike is! ...And yet so versatile with piles of luggage space, no chain maintenance and (now that I've got the tires and shocks worked out), exceptional handling for its size. All of that and the adjustable windshield makes it feel a bit like flying an F14 Tomcat.

The Bonneville project is still not getting the time it deserves, but I'm in a new phase of work and I'm enjoying pouring my time and energy into that. In the meantime, both road-ready bikes are facing a promising riding season.

Motorcycle Book Review: Why We Drive by Matt Crawford

I just started "Why We Drive" by Matthew Crawford.  I was in the middle of transitioning from being an English teacher to a technology teacher back in 2012 when my university prof suggested Shop Class as Soul Craft, Crawford's first book.  It gave me the philosophical grounding I needed to value my manual expertise and to fight the prevailing academic prejudices of the education system I work in.

A few years later I'd embraced my new role teaching technology and found myself constantly arguing for parity with academic programs like the English one I'd just left.  Crawford came out with his second book called "The World Beyond Your Head", which made a strong argument for human expertise in a world where blind allegiance to system think made management a fragile grasp at control for people who have no other skills of value.

I'm only through the opening chapters of "Why We Drive", but I'm enjoying the angle Crawford it taking in using driving (and riding, he doesn't distinguish) as a means of questioning the assumptions we're all increasingly living under.  In the opening chapters he suggests that operating a vehicle is one of the few domains left that demand human expertise as the rest of society falls into a WALL-E like world of of systemic technology driven infantilism.

From Uber's malicious dismantling of existing industries to suit the long term game of its investors to the NHTSA's outright misleading information on Tesla's Autopilot feature (they claimed that it radically reduced accidents when this was simply untrue), and the industry driven big government money drive to chase old cars off the street by misleading the public with even more false statistics, Crawford tears apart many of the assumptions around environmental NIMBYISM and the relentless capitalism that underlies it.

I've questioned the environmentalism of hybrid and electric cars before.  It's a classic case of NIMBYism where the wealthy hide their pollution further up the chain and then claim superiority over all the people who can't afford to give up a tail pipe.  One of the difficulties in being a teacher of technology is that I understand it, warts and all.  Our battery technology is still medieval in both construction and effectiveness.  They don't hold a lot of power and don't last very long, but any analysis of electric vehicle efficiency likes to sidestep that fact.  Nissan Leaf owners can't though.

Crawford also brings up the idea of recycling already manufactured vehicles rather than giving in to the relentless futurism of consumer society where owning anything old is paramount to a crime.  He compares a massive new SUV (all modern vehicles are massive compared to older ones as they get weighed down with safety-at-all-costs tech and grown to maximum size) to his old VW.  They get about the same mileage, but driving the Karmen Ghia is a very different experience to driving a modern safety tank.

I'm about half way through it but the hits keep on coming:

It's a challenging read, but also an opportunity to wake up from the progress pills everyone has been popping and understand that being human isn't about efficiency and management, it's about agency.

https://www.amazon.ca/Why-We-Drive-Toward-Philosophy/dp/0062741969

https://www.harpercollins.com/products/why-we-drive-matthew-b-crawford

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/jul/06/why-we-drive-by-matthew-crawford-review-artificial-intelligence-driverless-cars

What happens when we engineer our own solutions using universal dimensions instead of a manufacturer's parts catalogue...

KLR Curiosities

A super high mileage KLR, but it's pretty new (mid-00s).  Unclear on its mechanical details, other than it's very tired and the plastics and tank don't match.  

$1300 seems like a lot to pay for a bike in such condition with unoriginal parts (probably because it's been dropped hard).

If I got it I'd shelf it for a year while I broke it to pieces and rebuilt it.  I might go as high as $800, but I'll be spending a lot to give this tired old bike a second life.  I've asked the owner for info...

Followup:  I got a fantastic response from the owner.  The bike has been fettled to within an inch of its life.  The first owner took it from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego, and did the Demptster Highway.  The second and current owner has taken it to James Bay and various off-road adventures in the past couple of years.  It hasn't been dropped recently, but it's an off-road capable bike, so it's been down, once in Chile where they rider had to order in a new instrument cluster, the mileage is uncertain with the replacement instruments.  This bike has had a life, and now it's for sale in Southern Ontario.  

I suggested he sell it back to Kawasaki, this KLR shows what KLRs are capable of.

The mods list is extensive:
EM Doohickey
Upgraded headlight wiring harness with relay
Headlight cut out switch
Glass fuses replaced with blade fuses
Oversized side stand pad
Subframe bolt upgrade
Scott chain oiler
Progressive 420 Series rear shock
Instrument and idiot lights converted to LED
Choke relocation mod
Stainless front brake line
Headlight modulator (not hooked up but still in the fairing)
UNI air filter
LED plate light
Perelli M21 tires with lots of meat on them
Shell Rotella every 2500km or so

The Curtain Closes on the 2021 Riding Season

Squeezed in one after work ride last week before the curtain fell on this year's riding season (I hang 'em up when it takes me longer to clean the salt off the bike than the ride was).  We're looking at a weather warning tonight and snow all week.  Yay...

Over the weekend I got the end of year maintenance done.  Both bikes got a deep clean and an oil and filter change and can now hibernate with clean oil, ready for snows to recede in 2022.  Over the winter the Tiger's getting new chain and sprockets and the Concours is pretty much just ready to go, which is good because that's why I got it.

Meanwhile, the '71 Bonneville continues to be dismantled in an archeological manner and I'm waiting on my first order from British Cycle Supply Co..  They should get me to a point where I can actually start the motor for the first time!

Five Years: Diversifying Motorcycle Experience and Finding Balance

After the first year on two wheels I began thinking about more challenging motorcycle projects that would diversify my experience.  Starting in year two I did my first away motorcycle ride, renting scooters and then a BMW around the southern end of Vancouver Island - that led to my first article being published in Motorcycle Mojo and gave me a lot of insight into variations in motorcycling.

In addition to pushing my riding experience in daring new directions (like riding two-up with my son on an unfamiliar bike on one of the most challenging roads in Canada), I also began looking for a bike that needed more than just regular maintenance to operate... a bike that needed me.

I discovered just such a thing toward the end of that riding season, a long dormant Kawasaki Concours that we had to cut out of the grass it was sitting in.  Something that old (twenty plus years at the time) had a lot of perished rubber on it, and when I finally got it up to temperature it also had a sizable oil leak.  The winter was spent getting a new oil cooler and lines, replacing a lot of rubber bits and otherwise getting this old warrior back on its feet again.

The Concours not only got me moving mechanically, but it also offered a real blank slate, something I've since realized is only available on well used bikes (unless you're loaded and like to pull apart new things).  I'd enjoyed the aesthetic restoration of the Ninja and was looking forward to doing the same thing on the Concours.  Getting an old bike and making it not only usable but unique looking has been one of the highlights of my motorcycling career to date, and a trend I intend to continue.  It's something that my current too-nice Tiger doesn't offer me.

The Kintsugi Concours became my go-to ride and the Ninja became my first sold bike.  It was difficult to part with something I'd developed such an emotional bond with.  I can understand why the people with the space and means hang on to every bike they buy.  Having beaten the selling a bike emotional roller coaster, I immediately went looking for another, but it took a while to finally find the right thing, and in the meantime the old Concours suddenly became less than dependable.

A KLX250 that couldn't do 100km/hr with me on it made me feel like I was overly exposed and under-powered while riding on the road, though it was a deft hand off it and gave me my first real off road experiences.  I held on to it over the winter and when there was finally a break in the never ending Canadian snow I thought this is the moment the KLX will shine, on dirty, just thawed roads - except it wouldn't start.  It was a lot easier to sell because I'd never fallen in love with it.  Getting $400 more than I bought it for didn't hurt either.

Later that summer I made my next motorcycle buying error and stumbled into an old Yamaha XS1100 sitting on the side of the road.  I ignored the three strikes against it (non-runner with no ownership being sold by a gormless kid) and purchased it anyway; I won't do that again.  I got lucky on the ownership - it was within a whisker of being a write-off and had a long and difficult history (I was the thirteenth owner!), but I was able to sell it on after sorting the ownership and just broke even.  In the process I stumbled onto a balancing act I hadn't considered before.

I love riding older bikes I wrench myself, but they aren't always ready to ride.  When the otherwise dependable Concours wasn't and my only other choice was an ancient Yamaha I'd only just freed up the brakes and carbs on, I found myself with nothing to ride as the cruelly short Canadian motorcycling season began.  I'd gambled too much on being able to keep the old bikes rolling.  With riding days so valuable in the Great White North, that wasn't a viable approach.

I still had most of the money from the Ninja sitting aside and my wise wife said to just focus on getting something newer and more dependable.  Maintaining that balance means having a riding ready bike and a project bike, and not messing up that equation.  To further complicate things, I'm a big guy so I needed a bike that fit, and my son was getting bigger every year and loved coming along, so I needed a bike that would fit us both.  Being the onerous person I am, I didn't do the obvious thing and buy a late model Japanese touring bike that runs like clockwork.

My daily rider suddenly popped up on Kijiji but it ended up being the most emotionally driven purchase yet.  Instead of a sensible five year old, low mileage Kayamonduki, I got bitten by a thirteen year old Tiger.  It was European, over budget, too old and with too many miles, but the owner was a young professional (nuclear operator!) and from the UK and we had a good, straight up chat about the bike.  I was honest about my position (the Tiger was out of my league but I loved it and wanted it), and he was straight up with his position (he was about to take it in to trade for a new Triumph at the dealership and even my lower offer was much better than he would have gotten on trade in).  I ended up feeling like I stole the bike for over a grand less than he was asking and he got more for it than he otherwise would have.  It was an emotionally driven purchase with a lot of rational oversight.

With all that good karma the Tiger has turned out to be a special thing.  I was only the third owner.  In thirteen years it had averaged less than 4000kms/year, and on two years the first owner had ridden it out to Calgary and back (seven thousand plus kilometres each time).  It had been power commandered (that had never come up in the purchasing discussions), indicating that the original owner had really fawned over this bike.  The guy I bought it off wasn't very mechanically minded and it hadn't had much in the way of regular maintenance, but then he hadn't used it much.  Within a couple of weeks I'd gotten it safetied, done all the maintenance and given it a good tuning - it has run like a top ever since.

It's an older, European bike, but fuel injection and a resurgent Triumph Motorcycles Co. using the latest manufacturing techniques means it's not a bonkers choice as a daily rider.  On the second year of ownership it fired right up after hibernating under a blanket in the garage, and it did again this year.  I've fixed some dodgy, plastic fuel connectors on the tank, changed the tires and done the fork oil and other fluids along with the chain, but other than the fuel fittings, it's all been regular maintenance.  The Tiger has been such a treat and it's such a rare thing (I've only ever seen one other) that I can't see myself letting it go.

Meanwhile the Concours became the project bike, but since I wasn't depending on it, the project took on new dimensions.  I stripped the old fairing off and ended up with a muscle bike like no other.  I've experienced some drift with this project and I think when I get it to a riding level I'll sell it with the aim to make my money back on it (shouldn't be too hard considering what I got it for).

I think the drift comes from biting off more than I can chew as far as tools I have on hand and time and a comfortable place to work.  If had welding gear handy and could do the fabrication I needed, I think I'd still be be pushing for an edgy completion to the project which has taken longer and has been more involved than I initially planned.  The heart is willing but I'm too tight money and time-wise to chase this big of a thing.  In the winter it hurts to go out in the garage and work on it and in the summer I'd rather be out riding.  Future projects might be more of a Shed and Buried/SPQR approach where I can get a bike sorted and back on its feet again, have some fun with it aesthetically and then move it on without losing any money on it.  Making enough on each one to keep me in tools and pay for the process would be the dream.

The sophomore years of motorcycling have been about pushing into more challenging riding opportunities.  From riding Arizona (another one that got published), to going to the last MotoGP race at Indianapolis to circumnavigating Great Lakes and Georgian Bay, I've gotten more and more daring and gone further afield with each season.

These years have also been about dusting off and expanding my technical skills and have seen me do everything from oil coolers to complete carburetor rebuilds.  The garage has gotten better and better in the process, though it's still bloody cold in the winter.  If I could find a solar powered heating system for the space I'd be a happy man.  If I had a heated, insulated work space about twice the size, I'd be even happier.  The other side of the coin is riding opportunities.  Living somewhere where you can't ride for 3+ months of the year isn't conducive to building saddle experience.  I'd be happier if I lived in an all year riding opportunity - or at least if I had access to such places over the winter here.

20 hours might have gotten me able to manage the basic
operations of a motorcycle - the Conestoga course was a
weekend with about 4 hours on bikes each day, then some
very tentative rides in the neighborhood got me to 20 hours.

At five years I feel like I've put a lot of time into improving my rider's craft.  I've also spent a lot of energy getting the rust off my mechanical skills.  What I most wish for the next five years is to maintain my hunger for more motorcycle experiences.  I'd like to try  a wider range of different bikes and types of riding and find a way to dig even deeper into mechanics.  This year I'm hoping to take an off-road training course.  In the future I'd love to find the money and time to take track riding, if not to pursue racing then at least to explore riding dynamics at the extreme end in a controlled environment.

If you put ten thousand hours into something you've developed a degree of expertise in it.  In each season I've tried to beat ten thousand kilometres of riding (and succeeded) before the snows fall.  Those fifty plus thousand kilometres have probably had me in the saddle for over a thousand hours and I've easily spent that again in the garage doing repairs and maintenance.  If feel like my motorcycle apprenticeship is well underway, I just need to keep finding ways to feed that expertise.

The light cover in the garage - a reminder...