This is the season that we have been longing for — the riding season; complete with rain, scorching sun, wind, bugs, construction gravel… During the off-season, I tend to forget about the details of staying comfortable while riding. —Alison

Saturday is ride day! The forecast is good, the bike has been checked over, ready and waiting, the more pressing household chores are under control. Things are looking good.

Helmet and boots, they’re a given. But the stuff in between? Now I have to actually make some decisions. This can use up valuable time when the bike is waiting. What to wear? Not the “how do I look” what to wear — this is more of a “how do I keep comfortable?” question. Decisions, decisions…

Granted, I’ve been riding motorcycles of one sort or another for many years and miles, so the fact that there is quite a collection of stuff in the closet is no surprise. Unlike street clothes, the darned stuff just doesn’t wear out — and I can’t bring myself to chuck old favourites. So the closet becomes more stuffed seasonally. The fact that I am a sucker for End-of-Season sales doesn’t help either.

Take gloves for instance. I started my riding career with black leather, insulated gloves (now 30+ years old) with nifty zippered pockets on the back. Inside each pocket lurks a folded nylon overmitten that is advertised as waterproof. It isn’t and never was, and is a terrible nuisance to secure over the glove. On the plus side, the gloves are really comfortable and still sort-of warm. I have at least three pairs of leather palmed, nylon, heavily insulated ‘winter’ gloves that are too stiff to wear comfortably on any all-day ride. But they are toasty. I have one pair that is advertised as ‘guaranteed waterproof.” They are, but only for a limited time (like some warrantees). Once wet, they take literally days to dry! There is a newish pair of lightly insulated, gorgeous soft elkskin riding gauntlets (purchased from Aerostitch in a week moment). They are for midsummer riding only, but I don’t want to get them dirty so they are seldom used. There is an old pair of white – now light grey - TIG welding gloves that have been worn as summer gloves for so long that the index fingers of both hands have worn through. Extremely comfortable and well broken in. See what I mean? Just getting ready for the ride can be slightly stressful, long before I start the bike. It should not be so…

My solution? Very large saddlebags that are always mounted on the bike.  Lets see now, rain pants just in case, and a spare pair of warmer gloves, and maybe a second fleece vest, and I had better bring my waterproof overboots too. Oh right, there should be room for the thermos and sandwich in there somewhere. And I must not forget my regular jeans in case I want to get out of riding gear for a while, likewise my running shoes.  I don’t like walking any distance in my riding boots. These boots were NOT made for walking! Lets see, there must be something that I’ve forgotten, the left pannier is not quite full…

I am mystified by those I see sailing down the highway with narry a pannier or tankbag or knapsack.  How do they do it?  Mind you, the helmet, tee-shirt, jeans and runners code definitely doesn’t cut it for me either. Maybe they are better weather judges than I am, or maybe they don’t wander too far from home…  I suppose my waffling about gear has something to do with where I live. Central Ontario can experience everything from frost to scorching heat to thunderstorms  all in the same day. One learns not to become too comfortable (bad pun) with the conditions: things can, and probably will change before the end of the ride. My motto – pack it all on the bike, just in case!

Not for me the sleek, naked bike; but I’m almost always warm and dry and sometimes (I like to think) the envy of the cruiser set. 

So you want to go across the country on your bike. It is never too early to start planning your trip and getting the gear ready. Planning a trip is one of life’s pleasures. Turning dreams into miles — what riding is all about!

If you ride a Gold Wing and tow a trailer, you probably don’t need any tips on compact packing — there is enough packing space to bring almost anything. But for the rest of us, the process of getting all of our stuff secured to the bike is more of a problem.

I used to envy those who traveled by bike and stayed in motels at night. I figured packing would be a piece of cake without the tent and sleeping bag routine. Little did I know that motelling-it involves just as much stuff, just slightly different priorities. My personal arrangement is based on long-distance touring, one-up with camping gear. Riding with a passenger would necessitate a whole new mindset and the subsequent sharing of available packing space. I have not tried it.

With the exception of the saddlebags and a tankbag, most of my gear has been adopted from the camping fraternity. The decision about how you choose to travel (motel, camping, eating in restaurants, cooking) will determine your packing needs. The duration of the trip does not make much difference to the amount of gear required — four days or four weeks, it doesn’t really matter. Common sense and a basic idea of how you wish to travel are the best guidelines.

Front to back, the foundations include a tankbag, panniers, a bedroll, and a small tail trunk. I dislike having stuff bungied haphazardly on the bike.  There is probably nothing wrong with doing so as long as everything is secure, but I simply don’t like it.  I have also found that commercial tail trunks are too big and too high for my liking, and I suffer from an irresistible temptation to overload same; so I have adapted a small, lockable Pelican case for this purpose and have been very happy with the results. If my worldly possessions don’t fit within the confines of this system, I jettison a few things and repack. My wardrobe does not include an evening gown, but I do always carry one presentable outfit.

In an ideal world, most of the load on a motorcycle should fall within the triangle defined by the rider’s head, the front axle and the rear axle. Weight carried higher, behind or in front of this triangle can affect steering and handling to a much greater degree than a well placed load. For example, a high packsack mounted on the back of the passenger backrest invites poor handling and necessitates extreme caution in gusty cross winds

Any make of tankbag will do just fine if it satisfies two criteria: it must be secure on the tank and at least some portion of it should be waterproof. Lately I have been using a magnetic bag with both a front tether and a strap around the tank — sort of belt and suspenders-type secure! The bag is wonderfully waterproof but the map window is not. This means a ziplock bag for the map. It has numerous exterior pockets and an expandable main compartment. It also comes with integral straps should I wish to turn it into a packsack for the day. Any items that I might want en-route go in here (camera, snacks, first aid kit, wipes, sunblock, ball cap, extra gloves…) All told, it has proven to be a good investment.

At the other end of the bike, my Pelican case (trunk) is extremely tough, lockable and 100% waterproof. It houses the second tier of accessible items — binoculars, reading material, swim suit and towel, runners, bathroom kit bag with toothbrush, etc. Ownership and insurance papers are taped to the inside of the lid in a ziplock baggie. If I am carrying a bike lock, it lives in here too. The case is extremely secure and aerodynamic and doesn’t look bad either!

Panniers (saddlebags) can be either hard or soft — I have used both. Hard bags are generally quite waterproof, but subject to injury if the bike falls over. They also often present a wider profile on the bike than soft luggage, and in some situations this can be a concern. For highway touring on this continent, hard bags are ideal. They can look pretty spiffy too — colour matched and shiny with chrome and extra lights if one so desires. Soft bags are much more forgiving to load, but not so waterproof . My soft bags tend to collect dust on the outside and they exude a general air of experience. I like them. They don’t get scratched or busted should the bike go down and are ideal for rough road or off-road touring. There is also no danger of metal fatigue in the mounting frame as there isn’t one.

Whichever you use, ensure that your load is balanced left and right and keep in mind the published weight limits for your saddlebags. These limits are generally conservative, but still... Put heavier items on the bottom near the front of the pannier if possible.  If hard cases are easily removable from the bike, so much the better as they then become instant suitcases.  When the panniers are fixtures on the bike, pre-shaped bag liners can be a real asset for portaging the entire contents into the tent or motel room.

My stock tool roll plus a few additional items lives in its own tray under the seat. This is a sensible location, but awkward to access without undressing the bike. I usually keep a few frequently used items in the tail trunk, including a bit of the indispensable duct tape, a multitool and a handful of plastic cable-ties.

My bedroll can vary in girth and density depending on the sleeping bag and pad used, but the routine is always the same. Sleeping bag, tent poles, tent, fly sheet and nylon groundsheet are formed into a compact roll.  My sleeping mat is either wrapped around the whole works (if no gear bag is used) or rolled and placed alongside. The entire bundle is then either inserted into a waterproof gearbag or, more commonly, rolled into the motorcycle cover. The bundle is then self-secured with Velcro straps, and secured crosswise on the passenger seat with a bungee net. Properly positioned, it provides me with a very comfortable backrest. The entire bedroll weighs less than 20 lbs. I also carry a small velour sac into which I stuff various items of clothing to create a pillow each night. This leaves me with very wrinkled garments for the duration of the trip, but who is checking? The 6’square of waterproof nylon is used as either a groundsheet, or folded and used as a doormat depending on weather and ground conditions. Socks only in the tent please.

Pre-trip decisions about provisions and gear can occupy many happy evenings. Best advice: spread everything out on the floor and divide your stash into three piles of ‘must have’ ‘nice to have’ and ‘luxury.’ Divide the ‘must have’ pile in half and pack it on to the bike.  Leave the remaining two and a half piles on the floor (with the possible exception of that special flask of after-dinner brandy).

Seriously, almost everyone packs far more clothing and accessories than necessary. Pare the clothing down to a minimum necessary for the climate and the occasion. I have even been obliged to mail excess stuff back to my own home address when it became apparent that I had packed with more enthusiasm than common sense.

Obviously, the current availability of bank machines and credit cards makes carrying a big wad of cash obsolete. But if you are at all off the beaten track, even in Canada and the US, don’t assume that plastic will always be accepted. Some cash is still a must.

Assuming that your bike is checked out and road-ready, all that remains is to pack those items that will travel on your person, gear up, and go. Pre-trip, I also always also tape a spare ignition key to the frame of the bike. My riding gear has many pockets so I try to acquire the habit of putting keys, wallet, glasses and ear plugs into designated pockets at every stop. The pocket-search, self-frisking routine is both time consuming and embarrassing.

Just before I strap on my helmet and fire up the bike in the morning, I do a final campsite or motel-room check. I try not to leave a trail of tent pegs, toothbrushes or things drying in trees ... I’m sure you know the routine. Happy travels! — Alison Green

 

“It is a significant act of trust to ride with someone else. You assume responsibility for each other’s safety.”

The above quote is from Richard Stewart as published in Cycle Canada cc First Person, March 2007.

Yes and yes again! I have not given this a lot of thought lately as I ride alone most of the time. There is a static comfort level achieved when riding alone, and then there is the complex pleasure of sharing the ride with others. I truly enjoy the whole motorcycle experience when shared; the rides, the roads, the bike chats, coffee stops, camping… but it doesn’t often happen for me – so I cheerfully head down the road and sing to myself!

Finding a compatible riding partner is somewhat like successfully locating mate – and just about as difficult.  And yes, it does boil down to trust. But there is more! Awareness of your partner at all times and sympathetic riding style doesn’t begin to cover all of the pitfalls that can turn a good road into a bad ride with the wrong company.  There are the obvious factors: type of bike, style of riding, choice of routes, speed, bladder capacity… the list is long and complex. But over and above the physical parameters of the riders and styles, there is a need for sympathetic vibes between riders -- A synergy of sorts that eases the individual load and makes for a truly shared ride. It is magic when it happens but can be misery, and tending to unsafe, when it does not happen.

If I am just out for a short Sunday ride with a known route or destination, there is no problem. Faster riders get there first, more leisurely ones later, and those with questionable on-road behaviour that frightens me completely – I simply avoid. But what of that long-planned trip?   Do you really know how safely your friend rides, or how compatible your riding styles are over the long haul? I’ve heard some horror stories of tension and angst and anger – all because the riders were doing their own thing along the way and riding compatibility suffered.

Obviously, the odds of finding good riding partners increase drastically when all concerned have chosen the same genre of machine. One can hardly expect the ‘Busa pilot to hang out happily with the cruiser set. But do you always push the envelope and get your thrills from adrenalin? Do you like to pause along the way to appreciate the scenery and the day? Do you have to stop frequently for a smoke and a coffee or do you ride until the bike needs fuel? Camping or luxury? Maximum speed or maximum enjoyment?  The variables are almost infinite…

In the early 80’s I was living in Calgary, Alberta and my main ride was a smoke-red R100RT. I was discussing plans for my upcoming ride to northern Ontario when my then- BMW dealer (Roger Reuben) mentioned that another customer and good friend of his was also heading east. Did I want company? To make a long story short, John Heppleston and I left Calgary very early (0400) and had breakfast at Strathmore just east of Calgary.  Three long hard days to reach Timmins (northern Ontario near the Quebec border) and I have never felt so utterly comfortable and safe sharing the riding experience.  If I remember correctly, John rode a faired R100/7 and we clicked right from the start. Hard miles for both of us: Calgary/Brandon, Brandon/ThunderBay, Thunder Bay/Timmins. It was brutal – but fun as we developed complete trust in the other’s riding skills and attention to the road. Neither of us would have ridden so hard had we been alone – the synergy between us was amazing and I treasure that ride to this day.  John and I have remained good friends although moves and marriages and jobs have kept us from riding together since that trip. Someday I hope we can share the riding experience again and recapture that elusive magic of energy and telepathy.

I have certainly happily shared the riding experience with others over the years: Sometimes for an hour, sometimes a day, sometimes across the country, but only when it has been a positive and comfortable fit for all parties. If I am not comfortable, I simply go it alone. Less stress, easier, and safer for all.

Check your mirrors and keep track of your riding buddies – both their safety and yours depends on it! -- Alison Green

 

Alison's trusty BMW R80G/S on tour.

 

I’ve been asked repeatedly just how I prepare and what I pack for long rides, but the making of lists and planning of routes and checking of the bike is only part of the picture. I have attempted to put into words just how I approach the preparations and the ride – not just what gets packed or checked or worn, but the total mindset that needs to be adopted for maximum enjoyment of motorcycle travel. Hopefully, there is something in this collection of ideas that will make your next trip smoother and more rewarding.

So you want to cross the continent on your bike… DO IT! But plan ahead and prepare! Embrace the freedom to ride all day, anywhere, and then cruise off into the sunset… but remember, sometimes there are detours!

This is not a how-to list for the long distance rider, but rather a philosophy for travelling smoothly that opens up a whole new world of enjoyment.  Whether you ride alone, two-up, or in a small group of like-minded enthusiasts, you can boost the pleasure factor by adopting these few simple routines.

As thousands have discovered, there is a whole new world out there just waiting to be explored on two wheels, but riding day after day is not all sunshine and roses. Successful long distance travel takes planning, some practice, motivation, and a totally unexpected skill-set. Touring in comfort and safety is not simply a multiple of short Sunday-afternoon excursions: it is a whole different ball game and should be approached as such.

My definition of “Touring” does not include the one-day 800-mile filibuster to get to destination X in record time. Unless you are of the Iron-Butt fraternity, great distances covered in minimum times are not usually repeated day after day. That genre requires a totally different set of preparations (and deep pocketbooks)… fuel and tire costs alone would keep most of us working weekends just to break even!

So what is included in basic ride preparation for an extended tour? This assumes that you will be riding a capable and reliable motorcycle of at least 500CC displacement. Touring is certainly possible on smaller bikes, but can be less than ideal.

            The bike should fit you! Sounds simplistic, but too many people don’t consider the overall fit/height/weight/style of their chosen mount. Know your bike: if you are not completely comfortable and at home on the bike, long days of riding will quickly becomes torture.

            You should be physically fit and healthy. Staying alert while riding is demanding and the fresh air will lull you to drowsiness when you least expect it – healthy is good, and eating wisely while travelling is a must.

            Know where you are going! Wandering may sound romantic but in real life it often creates more stress than it relieves. Plan your destination and route ahead of time – overnight stops (approximately), ultimate goals, diversions, visits… You can detour from your plan to your heart’s content – but have a plan. It gives focus to the trip and increases the anticipation and enjoyment of the entire ride.

            Your gear should be quality motorcycle–specific apparel, and it must fit. Nothing is worse than pants that bind or gloves that pinch after an hour on the bike. Gear that is marginal is simply not good enough when the weather turns nasty – uncomfortable can quickly become a serious health and safety risk in cold/wet conditions. Helmets, boots, gloves, armoured jacket & pants and raingear are all essential. And don’t forget the earplugs – they are worth at least two hours of extra road-time every day just for keeping the wind-noise from exhausting your brain.

           Don’t bite off more than you can chew. You will be in the saddle day after day and attempting to cover too many miles per day is a common blunder.  If you are comfortable driving 800km (500Miles) during an average day in the car,  plan on cutting that in half for motorcycle travel!  400km can be quite sufficient for a day on your bike.  Try not to burn yourself out at the start by riding too far on the first day -- you will regret it! Pacing one’s self is absolutely critical to successful touring and nothing is more counterproductive than attempting to cover too many miles. Remember, this is a holiday! If your route takes you along miles of superslab, then the distances covered might be much greater, but most touring riders attempt to avoid Interstates and 4-lane roads in any case!

            Keep a timepiece visible at all times and develop the habit of keeping an eye on it! This may sound odd when one is out to relax and get away from it all, but knowing your riding interval time is one key to successful touring. Plan to stop every hour!  It is far too easy to just keep going, and going, and going until the bike needs fuel, you are exhausted, your butt is numb and your bladder is screaming at you! Pull off the road at a safe location, get off the bike, stretch, walk around the bike, have a pee, smoke, snack whatever… do this faithfully every hour. It takes but 5 minutes and makes a world of difference to the success and comfort of your tour. Obviously if there is a known coffee stop 15 minutes further down the road continue for the extra few miles, but if no other diversion is immanent do not skip the hourly stretch break!   

            Decide how you will communicate with fellow riders and/or your passenger. If hand signals are understood and used by all, that will work just fine. If everyone uses voice activated helmet-mounted communicators, that can be even better. Just don’t neglect a pre-arranged and understood means of communicating. This is essential for the comfort and safety of everyone on the trip. It is doubly important if you are riding two-up! The rider had best be aware of the passenger’s needs or the entire vacation could be less than harmonious.

            Don’t neglect your tummy. Many small meals and healthy snacks are better than infrequent big meals. If you have the Double-Whopper-Combo-with-XL-Shake for lunch, you will get sleepy shortly thereafter! Drowsiness is inevitable while your body is digesting a big, rich meal. This is not good if you are driving anything – especially a motorcycle.  Also, keep well hydrated, and not just with coffee. Yes, it makes for more pit stops, but hey, you will be stopping every hour anyway… If you brag that you can go all day and not have to stop for a pee – then you are abusing your body and are probably dehydrated. Not good! It is not good for your body and especially not good for your level of alertness. Water is best, juice, tea, moderate coffee consumption – anything non alcoholic: but keep hydrated at all times.

            Get off the road by 5:00pm. or earlier if possible.  Your body is weary; the end-of-day commuters are inattentive; the deer are thinking about coming out for an evening feed; the sun is getting low enough to silhouette every bug on your windscreen; and you are probably getting hungry!  Reasons enough for anyone…  If you wish to add hours to the day, try to do so in the morning – get an early start and the entire day will be more enjoyable. A good meal, a leisurely evening and a good night’s sleep go a long way to ensuring a positive outlook and a pleasant ride the following day.

            Cut yourself some slack .  Try not to schedule your holiday time too tightly: then if everything goes sideways, there is no need to panic to meet deadlines or commitments.  Bikes can break down, the weather can go seriously bad, detours happen, travel-flu might strike… any number of things can derail the best of plans – so leave some room in the schedule. On extended road trips I usually plan on not riding one day in five. This gives me time to relax, to do bike maintenance, laundry, find an internet café, buy groceries… the list goes on.  This builds some slack into the plan from the start, and on long trips the respite from the road is vital to maintaining my energy and enthusiasm. I think my bike appreciates a day off too!

Two weeks or six months on the road – the philosophy stays the same. Be kind to your body and your bike. Stop often. Don’t rush for time or miles.  Keep healthy. Enjoy.

Guaranteed good memories to follow…

Ride Far and Ride Safely

Alison

gone2wheeling@yahoo.ca

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cassie, Alison and the R100RT with sidecar.

I like sidecars.

They are unwieldy, awkward, off-centre, totally unique, and loads of fun! 

For years I had harboured a half-formed and totally un-researched notion that involved a sidecar rig, a long trip and my German shepherd dog.  This idea gradually took on a life of its own, not-with-standing the minor problems of not owning a sidecar rig and never having driven one!

Fast forward a couple of years to a lovely R100S BMW that I had acquired and ridden many miles in considerable discomfort. I had lusted after this model for some years based entirely on the looks of the bike. Sadly when I finally owned and rode one, I discovered much to my horror that my arms and wrists did not approve of the riding position at all! Then a timely add appeared on the IBMWR website listing a 1982 R100RT/sidecar rig for trade for “something interesting” about the time that I was considering what to do with the R100S. As the saying goes “the rest is history”.

I trailered the ‘S’ to Marquette in the U.P. in absolutely miserable April weather and met with the vendor of ‘the rig’ – which he was also hauling by trailer. We poked and looked and talked and swapped bikes. Neither machine was started that day – it was just too darn miserable.

Mid-June 2003 found the rig and I (sans dog) in Midland, Mich., to partake in the Advanced Sidecar Course as sponsored by the Evergreen Foundation. I expressed my doubts to the instructor about me taking the ‘advanced’ course. He asked me how far I had driven to get there (450miles) and replied that I definitely didn’t need the introductory course! It was time and money well spent – and good fun besides.

Minor modifications and general tweaking of the set-up followed – and then time devoted to passenger training. This was the easy part as Cassie (dog) saw no reason to ever abandon her own chauffeur-driven, open-air vehicle. We did short trips and had a lot of fun that summer. I even became moderately proficient as a sidecar pilot.

The following spring on the last day of May we pointed the rig west and waved goodbye to husband and house.  Five weeks and 8,000 miles is a lot of riding and only once or twice did my passenger complain. Turns out that she had a much better bladder than I, so pit stops were at my discretion and, as I stopped for a stretch break every hour, she had plenty of time to do doggy things and stretch her legs as well. This was one of the most relaxing and rewarding camping trips that I have ever undertaken and I think we were both sorry to see it end.

With callus disregard for Cassie, I sold the rig the following spring (trip was a success, time to move on …). However, what was not anticipated by me was the utter dejection of my dog without her sidecar. Every time I picked up my helmet we re-played the pouting and panting and whining to go … she even went so far as to climb, uninvited, aboard the passenger seat of my solo bike! So I bought another chair and started the process of creating a rig from scratch. Unfortunately, the following winter we tragically lost Cassie to a sudden medical calamity. Now what? Sidecar and no passenger … not good.

Springing ahead to 2008, now “Elfie” has discovered the joys of the open-air ride. Although still a pup at just under two, she is a reliable (mostly) and happy passenger. We still have minor issues about her preferred nose-in-the-wind riding position, but I will win that argument in time. No major trips planned at the moment, but we are having lots of fun – and that is the main thing.

Elfie and the new rig.

I have deluded myself into believing that my dog was partly the motivation for getting another rig. Truth be known, I am absolutely hooked! Sidecars are insidious things: completely illogical and definitely not motorcycles – and yet they are more fun that I ever thought possible. One more unanticipated reward of driving a rig is that everyone smiles and waves. No-one who drives a sidecar could possibly be perceived as a threat: children want to ride, grandmothers wave and smile, elderly men come over to chat and relate tales of sidecars and motorcycles … Putting a smile on a stranger’s face just by driving past – Now that is a rush! -- Alison Green

 

 

 

 

Would somebody please help me?

I’ve read the adverts extolling folks to buy into a certain brand of bike as a statement of individuality. The road to personal freedom! I’ve watched the market boom for ‘lifestyle’ accessories to accompany the chosen brand. (So you will look just like everyone else within the culture of THE BRAND.) I look at the double-page colour spreads in every current motorcycle magazine – you know the ones – a single bike with a carefully accessorized rider in the middle of nowhere with a glowing sunset behind and the empty road in front…

So tell me, if buying into THE BRAND means personal freedom, why do so many persist in riding in herds?

I recently spent a very pleasant weekend with friends who live rural, just outside of Orangeville, Ont. We did craft shows and summer festivals and art galleries and gardening. No bikes. We explored the back roads of the county and took in the early summer sights and smells. Leisurely activities prevailed.

Twice our car was obliged to queue behind a centipede procession of more than 50 motorcycles that persisted in travelling at half the posted speed limit and they stretched out over a sufficient length of road that overtaking was out of the question. We were not pressed for time, but it was no less annoying to be held captive in such a manner, especially on quiet rural roads.  Admittedly, should I have found myself in such a pack; I wouldn’t wish to drive very quickly either – for safety reasons.  However, that is not the point.

What pleasure or individuality is expressed by travelling in a tightly packed flock of identical, louder than necessary, slow-moving machines? It is not relaxing; one can’t converse even with a passenger. Stopping to take a photo, or just enjoy the view is out of the question: Impromptu changes of route or itinerary unthinkable. The scenery can be glimpsed only occasionally when one’s attention isn’t focused on maintaining path and not kissing handlebars with the adjacent bike… what fun!

Why? What happened to individuality? To freedom?

I just don’t understand. And I know that I definitely don’t want to go there. Ever!

Three good friends and three bikes. Now THAT is group riding at its best!  Riding also works very well with a group of ONE. Just me and the bike…  cuts down on the decision making time and increases the pleasure/relaxation factors by a considerable margin.

I don’t think that I am antisocial, but I have been suspected of being ‘different’ (maybe that means being individualistic). I sing and talk to myself too – but mostly when I’m riding and nobody can listen! My bike is not black or shiny, nor is there very much chrome. It usually sports a layer of travel grime.  If this makes me an ‘outcast’ from the motorcycle culture, then and outcast I will happily remain!  I can’t imagine the trials of arranging a bladder-motivated pit-stop by group consensus!

I don’t begrudge others their pleasures (?) in group riding – I simply don’t understand the herd mentality. And I really wish that large groupings of identically-clad weekend warriors could maintain normal road speeds and not impede others. Common courtesy still should prevail even when one is travelling anonymously within the din and exhaust fumes of a chrome-clad procession. After all, we are law abiding individuals – yes? -- Alison Green

 

   

My international touring experience is not extensive, but most of my touring miles have been solo, which can be interesting. My first big bike was a 1975 BMW R60/6, purchased new with every dollar that I could scrape together back then — and we are still together. I have certainly owned and ridden bigger, faster, snazzier machines, but the 600 is a fixture in my life.One doesn’t have to ride the latest and greatest to enjoy touring. Or to find yourself in a pickle and far from home.

For those of you who travel in far places, beware the sidestand. In countries where the flow of traffic is reversed from what we assume is normal ( eg. In Great Britain, Australia, New Zealand), the sidestand is still mounted on the bike’s left. This means that if the sidestand is deployed at any roadside stop, the bike will be canted away from the centre of the road rather than towards it.   Sounds very trivial until you have to pick up a fully loaded bike from the downslope side! If you must make a stop at the road’s edge,  sometimes a quick U-turn back onto your own side of the road is the best solution — obviously only in places with minimal traffic. Tour operators are generally conscientious about warning riders about every possible hazard — except this one! 

Similarly when riding in left-hand flow traffic, the usual cheerful wave to oncoming motorcyclists  results in the throttle slamming shut and the startling deceleration of your bike. A simple nod is sufficient. Waving with one’s left hand just doesn’t seem to work well in reverse-flow traffic.

Here at home, I seldom lock my motorcycle, but in far away places caution reigns and the special kryptonite tamper-proof cable lock is carefully deployed any time the bike is out of my sight. Unfortunately, even care and caution has its hazards… Locks are not part of my pre-ride mental checklist and I have discovered that any attempt to ride off into the sunset (or sunrise) with the lock in place results in an abrupt and embarrassing halt. The scenario then degenerates into a struggle to right a loaded touring bike with the cable lock bar-tight and no possibility of rocking the machine. There is some hope for me — I have never had to learn this lesson twice on any given trip — just once per tour.

When traveling, I make a very real effort to seek directions and local knowledge whenever possible. This has generally helped but I have still been caught out by not asking the right questions – or by not really listening to the answers. Situations have also been made worse when a degree of smugness at my own level of experience creeps into the mix. Consider the techniques for riding on dusty, rough, loose dirt roads… been there, done that — lots. What could be so different about the Australian outback roads —  other than the heat?

The little detail that I missed was the something that the locals call bulldust. Aussi outback dust is very, very fine! So fine in fact, that the depressions in the so-called outback tracks fill with loosely settled dust and the holes then become disguised as smooth bits. One must avoid these smooth areas at all costs. Beneath that benign surface lurks anything from a pothole to washboard to a bike-eating gully.  After or during the wet (read: rainy season) these bulldust pockets become glutinous traps. The clingy mud is so thick that I once walked away from my bike and left it standing forlornly upright in the middle of the track. This damsel in distress — and her bike, were rescued by a gallant and very amused rancher and his trusty Toyota truck. I suspect that if I had listened more closely to the campfire discussions of the conditions ahead, I might not have found myself in such an inglorious predicament.

If anything can be gleaned from my mishaps and musings, perhaps it is a reminder of the universal travel caution. It really doesn’t matter where one is riding, the details can not be ignored, and applied common sense is a rider’s best resource. The wonder and challenge of new places is best enjoyed with attention to the situation at hand and a clear head.

Bad luck when traveling can happen to anyone: Good Luck takes planning and the right attitude. – Alison Green