Since my first ride on my new Triumph resembled a scene from Ice Station Zebra, I don't consider that my real first ride. The real first ride occurred three days later.
The freezing temps from the week gave way to a weekend of gorgeous weather. My ability to ride was stifled on Saturday by work but Sunday was all mine. I got up, made quick work of breakfast and grabbed my gear. It was time for me to officially begin the relationship with my new bike. The sun was out and the temps were hovering around the low 40s. In other words: perfect riding weather.
I opened the garage door and wheeled the bike into position. It was hard not to get distracted by the bike's wonderful looks. There's so much to look at: the chrome caps on the carbs, the shape of the gas tank, the machined handle bar clamp complete with Triumph logo. The ride was already enjoyable and I didn't even leave the garage yet.
With the ogling over with, I hit the starter, threw my gear on and headed out on my first proper ride.
It's a short ride to a stop sign and then onto a sweet set of curves. I set off gently at first, getting used to my new machine. The twin gave off a nice mechanical noise as it revved. I'd love to know how the exhaust sounded but they're too quiet. That's something to address in the future. As I rolled into the first few corners, I got a sense of what the bike was really like.
My old Suzuki had a bit of a top-heavy feel. It really didn't go through the corners at all. It sort of fell gracefully into them. You tipped it in, let it fall and then caught it. It made for awkward riding, to say the least.
The Bonneville was completely different, though. With a little nudge of countersteer, the bike would just track through the corners beautifully. The wide handlebars and classic standard riding position allowed easy placement through the bends. No hip persuasion and no knee-down histrionics are needed to take a quick line. You just pick your line, dial up a bit of countersteer and through you go. This was all new stuff to me.
The mechanical noise from the engine sounded good, too. As I revved the engine, the noise got better and better. I'd love to know where in the rev range the noise sounded best but alas, my new Triumph had no tach.
The exhausts...well, I'm sure they made a great noise, too. I couldn't hear them over the sound of a butterfly fluttering away nearby. In fact, I don't think the bike came with any exhausts. I mean, there are these two shiny chrome cans near the back but it's hard to tell if they do anything.
I also remember being blown away by having a bike with actual low-end torque. On my old Suzuki, everything happened toward the northern end of the tach. It had a six-speed 'box because you had to keep shifting up and down to make sure the engine was in its narrow powerband. It was annoying, frankly.
Anyway, on with the ride. With the corners dispatched, it was on to the most American of roads: the straights. Now, my bike at this point had less than 20 miles on it. You're not supposed to get on the throttle heavily until after the first 500 miles. Well, I said stuff it to the engineers and gave it some right hand action (oh, that sounds dirty). In response, the Bonneville barreled forward in a symphony of mechanical noise. It was like an excited dog; it just wanted more, more, more. Each upshift brought more joy to this bike's new owner. It was becoming clearer to me that I made a good purchase.
With the straight bit finished, it was time for some higher-speed sweepers. As with the slower corners and the straights, the Bonneville showed stoic aplomb in the sweepers. There was no wobbling and really, the bike felt like it was encouraging me to go faster.
About this time a few flaws were starting to develop. The sweepers are on a typical pock-marked Pennsylvania road and the Bonneville's poor rear shocks had me flying off the seat on numerous occasions. It's okay, though, because my butt went numb a few miles before from the rock-hard stock seat and I couldn't feel the bumps anymore. Clearly, cost-cutting measure were becoming apparent. No worries from me, however, because the Bonneville's aftermarket is quite large and those niggles would be fixed in the future.
A few hours later I pulled back in my garage with a sizable grin on my face. My new bike was quite a machine. It's not really fair to compare the Bonneville to my old Suzuki as they are separated by 31 years of evolution but that's my only frame of reference. And it really shows how far the motorcycle has come in that span of time. The Bonneville is a normal, everyday motorcycle. There's nothing really special about it yet it handled every situation on that first ride with confidence.
Four years later and I still get amazed by this bike. It now has saucy pipes, hopped-up suspension and a comfy seat but it still displays the same confident, playful attitude it showed on that first ride. It still likes to attack the bends, it still like to have the nuts revved out of it and still wants to run all day.
Sure it lacks the flash and speed of a Ducati 1198R, an MV Agusta F4 or even my Guzzi but those are "sometimes" bikes, best suited for taking you around the track than around the block. The Bonneville is an "all-the-time" bike. It does everything so well it makes you wonder why the good ol' fashioned standard ever went away. With the Ducati, the MV or the Guzzi, you have to own another bike because they're so specialized. With the Bonneville, you don't. It's the perfect motorcycle for riding in the real world.
I think you can sum up the new Triumph Bonneville in one word: perfect.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Four Years Gone
As I was walking past my bikes to get to my car this morning, I realized that I've owned my Bonneville for nearly four years. In fact, it will be four years this March 20.
During the past four years, my Bonneville and I have had some interesting adventures together. They were not globe-trotting adventures on par with Ted Simon's but they were still fun. I thought I'd highlight a few adventures to celebrate our four year anniversary. So what if it's early, I've got nothing better to write about!
I picked up the bike on a Thursday after work. I got home as quickly as possible, threw some gear on and hopped on my '77 Suzuki GS550B, the bike I was trading in. It was a bit chilly, around 40 degrees F, when I left so I didn't really go crazy with my gear. I figured that since it's Spring, it won't get much colder than it is. I got to the dealer, signed my life away and then waited while they prepped it. While they were prepping it, the temperature dropped. It actually dropped a lot. There's a bank near the dealer and its outside thermometer read 22 degrees F. The temperature had dropped over 20 degrees in the span of an hour.
Clearly, the ride home would be cold.
I just didn't know how cold. I had minimal experience with cold weather riding and had never ridden in temps lower than 40 F for an extended period of time. Combine that with being under dressed and you have a recipe for a very chilly ride.
I hopped on my new bike and went off, carefully getting acclimated with my new purchase. In addition to having more power, the Bonneville had a lot more torque than the Suzuki and both peaked lower in the rev range. Needless to say this made the bike feel very fast at first. As I got to the redlight about one mile from the dealer, I ceased to feel anything else.
The feeling had already left the tips of my fingers by this time. I had my "cold weather" gloves on, which are regular motorcycle gloves with another pair of cotton gloves underneath, and they weren't working. There are frequent stops in this particular area and the heat radiating from the engine helped keep me warm a little. At one redlight, I heard the bike's idle speed raise a bit and looked down to see the AIR injection had kicked on. I stared helplessly as my gorgeous chrome pipes with all of five miles on them turned blue before my eyes. Four years later, the pipes are a rainbow of chrome, blue and gold.
I quickly got out of town and onto the backroads. They're miles and miles of gentle curves taken at 50-60 mph. Not this time, though. Not only did I have slippery new tires to watch out for but this set of backroads are heavily tree-lined. That means shade and shade means cold temps. I distinctly felt the drop in temperature as I got on the road. After a few miles my teeth were chattering. A few miles after that my whole body was shaking. My eyes were starting to water and I was losing concentration. Cold air was starting to seep past the air vent zippers in my leather jacket, penetrating the sweatshirt I was wearing underneath the jacket.
The backroads ended and deposited me onto a four-lane highway. I had to travel down the highway a bit, go through a town, cross a bridge and then travel down more four-lane highway. The bridge crossing was interesting because I really felt the cold coming off the river. After crossing the river, I had exactly six miles of highway to cover. Six miles doesn't seem like much at all. In fact, it isn't much. The New York Marathon is over 26 miles long and people (crazy people) run that.
Six miles, however, is a long distance when it's well below freezing, you're on a motorcycle and you aren't dressed properly. I ducked down on my shiny new gas tank as much as I could and went for it. The miles passed with a near-constant stream of salty snot running from my nose into my mouth. This was not one of those romantic motorcycle moments you see in Hollywood films.
I pulled off the highway, into the last town and made my way toward my house. The final bit to my house passed in a instant; I don't remember it at all. I remember pulling in the garage, shutting the bike off and going inside. I plopped down on the couch in all my gear and just stayed there. Once I could recognize that there was a body attached to end of my neck, I walked out to the garage and admired my new bike.
Man, did it look good.
It was awash in shiny chrome, shiny paint and shiny plastic. Everything is only new once and this was my moment to relish with my perfect bike. There were no scratches nor were there imperfections of any kind. My Bonneville will never be as perfect as it was at that moment. I remember spending an inordinate amount of time just looking at the bike; crouching down to look underneath, touching the seat and the controls, gazing over the perfect paint.
What's funny is that four years later, I still do the same things. Even though the bike is far from the perfection of when it was new, I still stop and look at it. And when I look at it, I don't see the scratches on the fork legs, the wear on the side covers or dirt clinging to the back wheel. I see the bike the same way as I did the day I brought it home: awash in shiny chrome, shiny paint, and shiny plastic.
It was awash in perfection then and it still is now.
During the past four years, my Bonneville and I have had some interesting adventures together. They were not globe-trotting adventures on par with Ted Simon's but they were still fun. I thought I'd highlight a few adventures to celebrate our four year anniversary. So what if it's early, I've got nothing better to write about!
I picked up the bike on a Thursday after work. I got home as quickly as possible, threw some gear on and hopped on my '77 Suzuki GS550B, the bike I was trading in. It was a bit chilly, around 40 degrees F, when I left so I didn't really go crazy with my gear. I figured that since it's Spring, it won't get much colder than it is. I got to the dealer, signed my life away and then waited while they prepped it. While they were prepping it, the temperature dropped. It actually dropped a lot. There's a bank near the dealer and its outside thermometer read 22 degrees F. The temperature had dropped over 20 degrees in the span of an hour.
Clearly, the ride home would be cold.
I just didn't know how cold. I had minimal experience with cold weather riding and had never ridden in temps lower than 40 F for an extended period of time. Combine that with being under dressed and you have a recipe for a very chilly ride.
I hopped on my new bike and went off, carefully getting acclimated with my new purchase. In addition to having more power, the Bonneville had a lot more torque than the Suzuki and both peaked lower in the rev range. Needless to say this made the bike feel very fast at first. As I got to the redlight about one mile from the dealer, I ceased to feel anything else.
The feeling had already left the tips of my fingers by this time. I had my "cold weather" gloves on, which are regular motorcycle gloves with another pair of cotton gloves underneath, and they weren't working. There are frequent stops in this particular area and the heat radiating from the engine helped keep me warm a little. At one redlight, I heard the bike's idle speed raise a bit and looked down to see the AIR injection had kicked on. I stared helplessly as my gorgeous chrome pipes with all of five miles on them turned blue before my eyes. Four years later, the pipes are a rainbow of chrome, blue and gold.
I quickly got out of town and onto the backroads. They're miles and miles of gentle curves taken at 50-60 mph. Not this time, though. Not only did I have slippery new tires to watch out for but this set of backroads are heavily tree-lined. That means shade and shade means cold temps. I distinctly felt the drop in temperature as I got on the road. After a few miles my teeth were chattering. A few miles after that my whole body was shaking. My eyes were starting to water and I was losing concentration. Cold air was starting to seep past the air vent zippers in my leather jacket, penetrating the sweatshirt I was wearing underneath the jacket.
The backroads ended and deposited me onto a four-lane highway. I had to travel down the highway a bit, go through a town, cross a bridge and then travel down more four-lane highway. The bridge crossing was interesting because I really felt the cold coming off the river. After crossing the river, I had exactly six miles of highway to cover. Six miles doesn't seem like much at all. In fact, it isn't much. The New York Marathon is over 26 miles long and people (crazy people) run that.
Six miles, however, is a long distance when it's well below freezing, you're on a motorcycle and you aren't dressed properly. I ducked down on my shiny new gas tank as much as I could and went for it. The miles passed with a near-constant stream of salty snot running from my nose into my mouth. This was not one of those romantic motorcycle moments you see in Hollywood films.
I pulled off the highway, into the last town and made my way toward my house. The final bit to my house passed in a instant; I don't remember it at all. I remember pulling in the garage, shutting the bike off and going inside. I plopped down on the couch in all my gear and just stayed there. Once I could recognize that there was a body attached to end of my neck, I walked out to the garage and admired my new bike.
Man, did it look good.
It was awash in shiny chrome, shiny paint and shiny plastic. Everything is only new once and this was my moment to relish with my perfect bike. There were no scratches nor were there imperfections of any kind. My Bonneville will never be as perfect as it was at that moment. I remember spending an inordinate amount of time just looking at the bike; crouching down to look underneath, touching the seat and the controls, gazing over the perfect paint.
What's funny is that four years later, I still do the same things. Even though the bike is far from the perfection of when it was new, I still stop and look at it. And when I look at it, I don't see the scratches on the fork legs, the wear on the side covers or dirt clinging to the back wheel. I see the bike the same way as I did the day I brought it home: awash in shiny chrome, shiny paint, and shiny plastic.
It was awash in perfection then and it still is now.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
My List
I was flipping through the latest issue of Cycle World with my usual apathy toward its content when I stumbled upon Kevin Cameron's list of the Five Greatest Motorcycles. It's an interesting list of influential and great motorcycles. Unfortunately, it's wrong.
You see, Cameron might be a big, fancy pro writer with an office and a few books under his belt but my opinion is more correct. Since my opinion is more correct, here are the Five Greatest Motorcycles:
1. Moto Guzzi V8 - It was extremely fast, extremely light, extremely complex and extremely dangerous. It even tried to kill Bill Lomas. In other words, it was totally awesome.
2. Laverda Jota 180 - It vibrated like mad but delivered sonorous noise and tight handling. It also went 140 mph when nothing else did and came in orange, which is a great color.
3. Triumph 6T Thunderbird - Marlon Brando rode one and was the coolest thing to happen to the '50s since the Appalachian Blizzard of 1950. He later sold it and became fat, old and weird. Coincidence?
4. Ducati 916 - This gorgeous machine brought Ducati four Superbike World Championships and made Carl Fogarty a household name. If Monet's Water Lilies were a motorcycle, they would be the 916.
5. BMW R90S - BMW set out to build a superbike and promptly won the inaugural AMA Superbike Championship championship. It also proved that giant Dell'ortos and poor charging systems weren't the sole property of Italian bikes.
And since Cameron included a sixth bike, I will, too. Here it is:
6. Bimota Tesi 1D, 2D & 3D - The Tesi was the future here now. It was to be the end of the spindly front fork the motorcycle has been stuck with since the dawn of time. Unfortunately, like most things that are cutting edge, the Tesi was expensive, complex and a poor seller. The traditional hydraulic front fork looks like it's here to stay in all its terrible glory.
You see, Cameron might be a big, fancy pro writer with an office and a few books under his belt but my opinion is more correct. Since my opinion is more correct, here are the Five Greatest Motorcycles:
1. Moto Guzzi V8 - It was extremely fast, extremely light, extremely complex and extremely dangerous. It even tried to kill Bill Lomas. In other words, it was totally awesome.
2. Laverda Jota 180 - It vibrated like mad but delivered sonorous noise and tight handling. It also went 140 mph when nothing else did and came in orange, which is a great color.
3. Triumph 6T Thunderbird - Marlon Brando rode one and was the coolest thing to happen to the '50s since the Appalachian Blizzard of 1950. He later sold it and became fat, old and weird. Coincidence?
4. Ducati 916 - This gorgeous machine brought Ducati four Superbike World Championships and made Carl Fogarty a household name. If Monet's Water Lilies were a motorcycle, they would be the 916.
5. BMW R90S - BMW set out to build a superbike and promptly won the inaugural AMA Superbike Championship championship. It also proved that giant Dell'ortos and poor charging systems weren't the sole property of Italian bikes.
And since Cameron included a sixth bike, I will, too. Here it is:
6. Bimota Tesi 1D, 2D & 3D - The Tesi was the future here now. It was to be the end of the spindly front fork the motorcycle has been stuck with since the dawn of time. Unfortunately, like most things that are cutting edge, the Tesi was expensive, complex and a poor seller. The traditional hydraulic front fork looks like it's here to stay in all its terrible glory.
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