Category: Tim’s Motorcycle Diaries

 I’m currently crossing the Canadian Maritime provinces with my wife.  She’s recovering from cancer so a bike trip wasn’t in the cards, but I’m using the trip as reconnaisance for future rides.


On our way back to our hotel after a day on the Cabot Trail in northern Nova Scotia on Cape Breton Island, a guy on a Honda Repsol race replica blitzed through a row of traffic five cars at a time and disappeared down the road.  The Cabot Trail attracts that kind of rider with its hundreds of kilometres of twists and turns over the Cape Breton Highlands in the north west corner of the province.


Coincidently, while I was out here, Canada Moto Guide did a primer on how to ride the Cabot Trail.  That and the steady stream of bikes making their way up to the remote, north-west corner of Nova Scotia cemented the trail as a Canadian riding icon in my mind.


We were up in Neil’s Harbour when a bunch of guys in full leathers wandered in to the Chowder House up by the lighthouse (you can write sentences like that when you’re on the Cabot Trail).  The bravest of them was on a Ducati.  I say brave because the road itself is indeed a roller coaster, but it’s also pretty rough in places.  I asked them if they could put a knee down or would they knock their teeth out first.  They laughed and said they pick their moments.

The Cabot Trail traces most of the coast of the north-west side of Cape Breton Island.  This 300km loop takes you up and over the Cape Breton Highlands and through a national park; it’s stunnlingly beautiful and it’d be a shame to rush it.  Actually, what would be a shame would be only doing it once while focusing on the road.  The ideal way to tackle the Trail would be to get yourself into one of the many lodging opportunties on the south end of it and then do a day focusing on the road followed by a day focusing on the many stops available.  If you came all the way to the end of the world in Cape Breton and didn’t bother taking side roads to things like Meat Cove and Neil’s Harbour, you’d be missing some wonderful opportunities.

There are many sections with good pavement and astonishing curves, but there are others where the road hasn’t had any attention in some time and Canadian weather has had its way with it.  I was told there were some switchbacks where riders had a hand down on the ground as they came around, but trying to do that in other places would have had you bouncing out of your seat and kissing a guard rail.  Rough or not, if you’re used to living on a tiny island with sixty million people on it, you’ll find the Cabot Trail frighteningly empty, even in mid-summer.

Having done a lot of miles on Canadian roads now I’d approach it as I do them all: enjoy them while you can but expect them to go to shit at any second.  Something with supension travel and some athletic intention would be a good place to start, it made me miss my Tiger sitting in the garage over two thousand kilometres away in Ontario.  A psychotic mix of power and suspension flexibility like the BMW S 1000 XR adventure sport would be good.  Another angle would be to take one of the newest intelligently suspended bikes and see what they make of it.


This ain’t no butter smooth Spanish road, but it’s a fearsome thing.  A couple of years ago Performance Bikes put their man John McAvoy on a sportsbike and pointed him at Spain, in the winter.  It was a riot to read him navigating snow storms through France before finding the sweet never-ending summer of Spanish roads at a time when everyone else is huddled in their houses waiting for the snow to end.  Reading Johnny in questionable riding circumstances is never dull.  PB (now a part of Practical Sportsbikes) should send him out to Cape Breton for a tour of the Cabot Trial in the fall.  It’d deliver demanding and stunning riding and photo opportunities that no one in mainstream motorcycle media seems to be aware of.  It’d also give Johnny a chance to practice his Gaelic.

Instead of riding the same old Spanish roads over and over, motorcycle manufacturers should be bringing journalists out to Cape Breton.  A 300km loop on varying road surfaces through stunning, Jurrasic Park quality scenery and some incredibly acrobatic roads would let them assess a bike’s real-world prowess without cheating on roads that have never felt the terrifying touch of a Canadian winter!

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Another mid-winter holiday escape daydream…














A couple of thousand kilometers riding through New Zealand’s summer.

$5267 out and $6510 back = $11,777, but hey, I could actually sleep on the flights!

Fly into Auckland via Vancouver with lay down seats so I might actually sleep on the plane.


Pick up the bike (they have Tigers!) at bikeroundnz.com and ride from Auckland to Wellington on the south island over a couple of weeks.

$249 a day for 14 days = $3486

The flight home leaves Saturday and gets in early Sunday morning (you get a day back crossing the international date line).




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The 2018 wish list…

Some things to get deeper into motorcycling in the next year:

Ford Transit Van:

$53,472 + some more in accessories.

A means of moving bikes south in the winter to ride year round as well as a way to take off road or race ready bikes to interesting locations  where I can exercise them.

The bonus would be to get all Guy Martin with it.


Become an off-road ninja:

Step 1:  Get the kit:  A KTM 690 Enduro, the best all round off-roader that can also get you there.  
$11,999 + some soft panniers for travel.

Step 2:  Get good at off-roading with lessons at SMART Adventures!  $329

Step 3:  Do some rallies like Rally Crush, Rally Connex, the Corduroy Enduro, the KTM Adventure Rally (in BC!)


Set up the KTM as an all year ride:

A Mototrax snow bike kit would let me turn the KTM into a year round steamroller.  Back country riding in the cold months would make for some good exercise and training so I wouldn’t be back on two wheels in the spring feeling rusty.  $6000US


Become a road racing ninja:

Step 1:  Build a race bike…

…but why be boring?  Instead of something new take on a race bike rebuild!  There is a ’93 Yamaha FZR600 for sale nearby in need of some attention.  They’re only asking $700 for a fairingless bike, but that means I can go looking for race fairing!  

It turns out 90s FZR fairings are remarkably easy to source.  Since this is going to be a race bike, I can go with a lightless race ready fairing.  The other fairing parts are also available and not crazy expensive.  Getting them all as unfinished moulds means I can start from scratch with a custom race paint theme.

I’d be spoiled for choice with classic race designs, but I think I’d do my own with a 90s style influence.  With a double bubble screen and some customization of rearsets I could make a Fazer that fits me.

Step 2:  (finally) take road race training:

Spend the weekend of May 11-13th next year at Racer5’s introductory course at Grand Bend.

Three days of track training on a rented bike.  Later in the summer I could then follow up with the advanced courses on my own bike (the Yamaha would be ready by then).  That’d be about two grand in race training over one summer.  By the end of it all I’d have my race license and have a clear idea of how to proceed with a campaign, perhaps with the VRRA who also run a school.  With the 90’s FZR and the training I think I’d be ready to run in amateur classes.


Use next level tech to ride better:

I’m not even sure if Cruden’s motorcycle simulator is available to the public.  I do a lot with VR at work and I’m curious to see just how effective this might be at capturing the complexities of riding a motorcycle.  Even if I couldn’t get it privately, getting one for a month in our classroom would be a cool way of examining state of the art virtual simulation in a very complex process (riding a motorcycle).  It’d also be a nice way to ride when it’s -25 degrees outside, like it is today.

***

With those tools I’d be able to bike in ways I currently cannot.   I’d have what I need to pursue both off road and more focused tarmac riding which would greatly enhance my on-road riding skills.  If motorcycling is a life long learning experience, these things would be like going to motorbike university.

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Triumph included a link to this on their email newsletter, so I gave it a whirl on Vimeo.  At nearly $9 it’s an expensive (48 hour) video rental compounded by some stuttering even with fibre at home internet.  Looking at the code it looks like Vimeo segments the video to prevent copying.  Those segments kept stalling on transition, which is pretty frustrating, especially when you just paid a premium price to see it.

I like Charley but he wasn’t the guy to see this through

Technicalities aside, the film itself is very engaging.  It isn’t just about a run at Dakar (like Charlie’s was).  The man making the film, Simon Lee, is in his thirties and feels like his dreams of making a film are ebbing away under the pressures of middle aged life.  The man trying to go to the Dakar, Christophe, is a former North African motor-cross champion who failed to complete the Dakar the year before.  He is a skilled rider, but spends all his time in a suit and tie doing business and trying to drum up the money to get himself to the race.  The expectations of middle-aged life are barriers in both men’s struggles.

When desire conquerors circumstance you get a better story

You’d expect a fully financed, technically supported, off-road experienced forty year old rider coupled with a Dakar veteran mentor and a spare rider to hand you his bike when your’s breaks to finish the race (he didn’t).  You’d not expect a single thirty-something experienced racer who has to turn his own wrenches and barely managed to find a bike and get enough money to attend the race to finish (he does).  What matters more, financial support or the will to succeed?  This film sheds light on that question.

Along the way you get to see the Dakar without the money lenses of sponsorship.  This purer Dakar hearkens back to the beginnings of the race (a good documentary to watch about this is BBC‘s Madness in the Desert).  But you don’t have to suffer through poor footage from amateurs to see this raw Dakar.  What you get is video shot by a guy who knows how to shoot video and edited by an expert.  The whole thing is then wrapped in an original soundtrack that supports and nurtures the narrative.  If you’re used to watching half-assed video of motorcycle based adventure, this isn’t that.

A teary conclusion is well earned, and stirs up deeper philosophical questions around media dilettantes & the committed racer…

When you get to the end and everyone is in tears you’d have to be a robot not to share that feeling with them, and it’s not all just about Christophe’s race either, it’s also about Simon’s journey as a documentary film maker.  Both men defy expectations and pursue a dream at great personal expense (emotional, physical and financial).  It’s the kind of story most of us who live in a world that doesn’t give a damn about what we dream of doing can relate to.

If you enjoy a quality, motorcycle themed film, this will do it for you.  It’s well shot and brilliantly edited and musically scored.  The filming is such that you get to know Simon and Christophe who are both painfully honest in front of the camera.  The narrative (aided by that brilliant editing) takes you from introductions, to desperate attempts to source the money and prepare for the race and then tosses you into the Dakar without the antiseptic third person corporate perspective you usually see it from.  By this point you’re emotionally invested in both men’s journey.

I recommend this film.  I only wish I could have ordered the DVD for a few dollars more and been able to watch it without the interruptions and technical headaches.

When a film leverages the Dakar to raise questions around commitment to challenge through skill and determination, and does it well, you’ve got a winner.

 

Christophe riding injured.  As long as he is conscious, he isn’t going to stop – remarkably sympathetic to his machine as well.

 

A naked Dakar bike, personally paid for, no corporate spin; not what the modern Dakar is about.  It would be nice to see the money around the Dakar put a bit aside to ease the entry of privateers into the race – they make for better stories than the stone faced, well paid professionals.

I’ve been reading Inside Motorcycles, Canada’s Source for Motorcycle News.  Their February/March 2015 issue has an article that underlines the desperation of the American cruiser.

In it they describe the Victory Gunner as over-priced, unable to corner and smooth.  They then go on to say, “…the Gunner is a bruiser, built to lurk about town striking fear into all those fancy Euro and Japanese machines.“

If ‘fancy’ is code for motorcycles that can go around corners and out handle this ‘bruiser’ in every way, then I’ll go with fancy.  My tiny Ninja 650r with only 37% of the Gunner’s displacement, and not even a full on sport bike will trash this ‘bruiser’ in any straight line competition, and it corners nicely too.  It costs less on gas, less on insurance and looks fantastic.  I’ll bet it’ll have less maintenance headaches too.  So far, ‘fancy’ is looking pretty sensible.  

I’m not sure what the Victory Gunner is bruising (other than its rider’s tailbone), but Inside Motorcycles has managed to clearly highlight the desperate, reaching nature of the American Cruiser in one short piece.  This ‘bruiser’ is a pretty boy who is designed to make its rider feel like a dude, but not ride like one.

I welcome this ‘brusier’ appearing out of the shadows and attempting to strike fear into my ‘fancy’ (and significantly cheaper) Japanese bike.  I will be sure to reserve a little pity for the mediocre guy on the ‘cool’ bike who desperately hopes it’s working for him.

Previously I’ve thought about various ways I could do a four years pay over five years and then take a sabbatical year off work and still get paid.  From circumnavigating North America to tracing my grandfather’s route through occupied France in 1940 during World War Two, there are a lot of interesting ways I could take a year off with an epic motorcycle ride included.

One of the first motorcycle travel ideas I had was to do the Pan-American trip from Prudhoe Bay in Alaska to Ushuaia in Argentina, from the top to the bottom of the Americas.  This ride is an even more extreme version of the North American circumnavigation as the mileage is mega; over 56,000kms!  At a 400km a day average that works out to 141 days or over 20 weeks making miles every day.  With a day off every week that adds another 3 weeks to the trip.  Fitting it into 24 weeks would mean some rest days and some extra time to cover the border crossings and rougher sections of the trip.

Another way to look at this might be from a Nick Sanders angle.  He did Prudhoe Bay to Ushuaia and back again in an astonishing 46 days.  That’s 23,464kms x 2, so 46,928kms in 46 days, or an astonishing 1020kms average per day, including stops for flights over the Darien Gap between Columbia and Panama two times.  That approach (I imagine) gets pretty psychedelic and I might not really get the sense that I’m anywhere doing it that way, but there are certainly ways to tighten up the schedule and move with more purpose if needed.

The actual number of days needed if I ran it over 24 weeks would be 168.  The best time to hit Prudhoe Bay on the Arctic Ocean coast of Alaska is obviously during the long days of the northern summer.  If I left home mid-July I’d be up Prudhoe way eighteen days later at 400kms/day.  If I push on tarmac I should be able to get up there by the beginning of August and then begin the long ride south.

A good tie-up in South America would be to follow a bit of the Dakar Rally – this year running in Peru from January 6th to 17th.  After that it would be down south to the tip of South America in their late summer before heading back north.

The 2019 MotoGP season lands in Texas the weekend of April 12-14, making a nice stop before the final leg home in the spring.  Two weeks before that they are in Argentina.  Trying to connect the two races overland would be an interesting challenge.  It’s just over six thousand kilometres north to Cartegena, Columbia and the boat around the Darien Gap, or just over seven thousand heading through the Amazon.  Then another forty-five hundred kilometres through Central America to Texas for the next race.  In a straight run that’d be almost eleven thousand kilometres across thirteen countries in eleven days if I managed to get to Texas for the pre-qualifying.  That’d be a Nick Sanders worthy feat. 

The PanAmerican Trip Tip to Toe and back again in sections:

North America to Prudhoe Bay:  https://goo.gl/maps/RWn36jct6LT2
19,571kms July-August to Prudhoe Bay, August-November to Colon:

South America South:  https://goo.gl/maps/nx4i6MwUqYz
11,106kms  Nov-Jan to Peru for Dakar, Jan to Mar to Ushuai

South America North:  https://goo.gl/maps/P5wQzEND7US2
11,057kms  Via Circuit De Rio Hondo MotoGP race in March.

North America North:  https://goo.gl/maps/4ZAC686McuC2
6,989kms

56,357kms.  @400kms/day average that’s 141 days continuously on the road.


Leave July, Prudhoe Bay by end of July, Dakar in January in Peru, Ushuaia in February, Circuit de Rio Hondo for the MotoGP race at the end of March then a hard 11 days north through the Amazon to Austin Texas for the next race in mid-April.  Home by the end of April.   And I’d still have May-August to write about what happened and publish.

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After a couple of weeks of cleanup and repair, the Concours is back together.  I’m going to take it in for a safety this week and then see about getting it on the road.  I’m waiting on some replacement master cylinder covers and some clutch lever bits.  They should be in mid-week.  I hope to have the safety done by the end of the week.

Since starting the 360° camera-on-a-motorcycle experiment last year I’ve tried dozens of different locations and angles.  My favourite shots to date are ones that emphasize the speed and feeling of exhilaration I get while riding.  A bike in a straight line is a lovely thing with the wind and feeling of openness all around you, but when you lean into a corner the magic is suddenly amplified.  That thrill of leaning into a corner is something most people never get to experience.

The first weekend I ever rode a bike on tarmac (at the training course at Conestoga College in Kitchener) way back in 2013 I discovered this magic while working through a beginner’s gymkhana style obstacle course.  After shooting through the cones a few times at faster and faster speeds I said to the instructor, “I could do that all day!”  He just laughed.  I wasn’t kidding, I could happily spend all day leaning a motorbike into corners.  Each time I do it the complexity of what’s going on is fascinating as hundreds of pounds of machine and me lean out into space, all suspended on two tiny tire contact patches.  It’s when I’m most likely to forget where I end and the bike begins.


Lean angle in corners is an artform that many motorcyclists (but not bikers so much) practice.  Being able to use your tire effectively means you aren’t the proud owner of chicken strips.  Underused tires tend to show a lack of experience and an unwillingness to explore lean.  There are exceptions (knobblies on off road focused tires, anything made in North America) that aren’t about lean angle on tarmac, but it is a way to analyze your cornering comfort level.

Mounting the 360° camera on the bike is one of the only ways I’ve been able to catch the feeling of this complex dynamic in an intimate way.  MotoGP makes extensive use of 360 camera technology for on-bike photography and video, but they tend to be rear mounted.  Using a front mount means you get to see the rider’s face in the shot.  It would be fascinating to watch the rider/machine interface from a 360 camera mounted out front of the bike while various riders do their thing on track.

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This might be a n00b question, but I’ll ask it anyway: