I have described the Chrome Nun, my 2008 Triumph Bonneville T100, as a "Gentleman's Motorcycle" and I tend to ride like a gentleman. I don't make unnecessary noise, pull wheelies or drag race. I simply enjoy riding a motorcycle. I'm in no hurry to get anywhere and I usually don't even have a specific destination. The ride itself is my goal.
This came to mind last Sunday when I "went to church" (my term for riding the Nun on Sunday). I recently moved to Northwest Indiana, which is nearly as flat as the Central Illinois flat-lands I swore I'd never return to. There are no exciting hills or curves, but I enjoyed my ride very much. I was doing the kind of motorcycle riding I like best: exploring!
A motorcycle is the best vehicle for exploring. You have the best view and it's easier to turn around than a car. This is important when roads unexpectedly end. And when I pass a road I want to explore I'm more inclined to turn around and explore it if I'm on two wheels. Finding a place to turn a four-wheeler around in the middle of nowhere can be a problem.
I turned around several times last Sunday and the ride was much better for it. I gratified my curiosity and saw new places and things I would have missed otherwise. The speed limit was consistently 30 mph. The only real curve was a wide, banked curve marked "dangerous curve." What was dangerous about it? Nothing, except it was the only curve around.
On the map this area looks like it would be boring to ride. But I've taken two long rides so far and both were far from boring. I found a lot to explore. In fact, the lack of challenge posed by the roads makes the ride more leisurely. I can pay less attention to the mechanics of riding and more to the scenery. That's a good thing for explorers like me.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
OREGON !!!
I moved again.
This time I moved to Corvallis, Oregon.
Corvallis is a peaceful, sleepy little village full of pale-faced college kids and pale-faced natives.
It sits next to the Willamette (dammit) River, which looks like a creek compared to the Mississippi.
The river runs the wrong way; that is, it runs straight north.
I went to the river yesterday just to witness that for myself. It seemed so wrong!
This town is not the most exciting motorcycling town.
But it doesn't matter the least little bit.
Why?
Find Corvallis on Google maps... then zoom out... !!!
Mountain-ish hills to the west, real mountains to the east, real MOUNTAINS further east.
One of the best ocean-coast highways in the world less than an hour away.
The "high-desert" or Mount Hood a "good warm up" ride away.
More terrains and biomes within a day's ride than I have time left in my life to explore.
Practically year-round riding temperatures.
Conclusion?
I am in paradise.
The photo is from a gloomy day at Agate Beach in Newport, Oregon. Click the pic for a bigger image.
Wife and I love Newport. It's not a touristy town, it's a real fishing town.
The breakers looked big enough to surf on... to surf for a few feet, anyway.
I expect I'll be posting articles and photos here more frequently than I have the past couple of years. Where I lived in Missouri the best riding was right around my home. Once I'd written about that I'd pretty much covered it.
But in Corvallis I have to "leave home" to reach the good stuff, and there's different good stuff in every direction!
UNFORTUNATE UPDATE:
Oregon was a bust. Their ecology was ruined a generation ago and good motorcycling roads were much fewer than anticipated. A lot of the twisties on the map are just old logging roads lined with rubble and surrounded by identical species trees and nothing else. It's like corn country, only with Douglas firs instead of cornstalks.
I started out on the twistiest highway from Corvallis to the coast but turned back after awhile because the road was far more dangerous than fun. The pavement is crap from snow chains and spikes. The lanes are barely big enough for two vehicles to get past each other and drivers cross the line at every blind curve. The edge of the road is immediately followed by a rockface or a chasm. The curve banking in the twisties is so exaggerated that it just makes navigation worse.
Willamette Valley was as flat as and even boring than Central Illinois. At least in Central Illinois you saw wild animals. I could stand in the middle of the valley sometimes and scan the sky from the Coastal Range to the Cascades and not see a single bird. Creepy.
Most of the "wildlife" I saw in Oregon wasn't very wild. Most towns have resident half-tame populations of blacktailed deer (many of them crippled by SUVs) and a particularly stupid variety of turkey wandering the streets. Most towns also have an equivalent population of homeless people.
I do miss Newport, though. Sea lions, whales, crabs, sea birds, tidal pools...
This time I moved to Corvallis, Oregon.
Corvallis is a peaceful, sleepy little village full of pale-faced college kids and pale-faced natives.
It sits next to the Willamette (dammit) River, which looks like a creek compared to the Mississippi.
The river runs the wrong way; that is, it runs straight north.
I went to the river yesterday just to witness that for myself. It seemed so wrong!
This town is not the most exciting motorcycling town.
But it doesn't matter the least little bit.
Why?
Find Corvallis on Google maps... then zoom out... !!!
Mountain-ish hills to the west, real mountains to the east, real MOUNTAINS further east.
One of the best ocean-coast highways in the world less than an hour away.
The "high-desert" or Mount Hood a "good warm up" ride away.
More terrains and biomes within a day's ride than I have time left in my life to explore.
Practically year-round riding temperatures.
Conclusion?
I am in paradise.
Wife and I love Newport. It's not a touristy town, it's a real fishing town.
The breakers looked big enough to surf on... to surf for a few feet, anyway.
I expect I'll be posting articles and photos here more frequently than I have the past couple of years. Where I lived in Missouri the best riding was right around my home. Once I'd written about that I'd pretty much covered it.
But in Corvallis I have to "leave home" to reach the good stuff, and there's different good stuff in every direction!
UNFORTUNATE UPDATE:
Oregon was a bust. Their ecology was ruined a generation ago and good motorcycling roads were much fewer than anticipated. A lot of the twisties on the map are just old logging roads lined with rubble and surrounded by identical species trees and nothing else. It's like corn country, only with Douglas firs instead of cornstalks.
I started out on the twistiest highway from Corvallis to the coast but turned back after awhile because the road was far more dangerous than fun. The pavement is crap from snow chains and spikes. The lanes are barely big enough for two vehicles to get past each other and drivers cross the line at every blind curve. The edge of the road is immediately followed by a rockface or a chasm. The curve banking in the twisties is so exaggerated that it just makes navigation worse.
Willamette Valley was as flat as and even boring than Central Illinois. At least in Central Illinois you saw wild animals. I could stand in the middle of the valley sometimes and scan the sky from the Coastal Range to the Cascades and not see a single bird. Creepy.
Most of the "wildlife" I saw in Oregon wasn't very wild. Most towns have resident half-tame populations of blacktailed deer (many of them crippled by SUVs) and a particularly stupid variety of turkey wandering the streets. Most towns also have an equivalent population of homeless people.
I do miss Newport, though. Sea lions, whales, crabs, sea birds, tidal pools...
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Uneventful update, but...
Haven't ridden much this year. Still under 24K miles. Still haven't done 24K maintenance. But I have enjoyed the rides I've taken. Mostly I was ridiculously busy at work this past Spring and Summer and when I had time off I was pooped.
But there's exciting new development in the story. It looks very much like the Nun and I (and wife, and cats) will be moving to or near Corvallis, Oregon.
For those of you who are naive and/or just stupid, Corvallis is a little over an hour from the best sea-side ride in the US, is surrounded by mostly uninhabited "mountains" and the region has about as much park land as private land. The flora and fauna are very different from what I've befriended in the Appalachians and Ozarks. I have yet to shake hands with a cat larger than a Maine Coon Cat and Eastern Oregon has bobcat and lynx. They also have mountain lion, puma and cougar (oh wait... those are all the same thing).
But there's exciting new development in the story. It looks very much like the Nun and I (and wife, and cats) will be moving to or near Corvallis, Oregon.
For those of you who are naive and/or just stupid, Corvallis is a little over an hour from the best sea-side ride in the US, is surrounded by mostly uninhabited "mountains" and the region has about as much park land as private land. The flora and fauna are very different from what I've befriended in the Appalachians and Ozarks. I have yet to shake hands with a cat larger than a Maine Coon Cat and Eastern Oregon has bobcat and lynx. They also have mountain lion, puma and cougar (oh wait... those are all the same thing).
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
5-7-14
Sorry I haven't posted in so long. I've been busy. I moved again, made a lot of synthesizer music, even hosted an internet-radio show for a few months. But it's Spring now and the Chrome Nun (my 2008 T100) is demanding long overdue attention.
This morning I rode to work. I've seldom done that since moving because the ride directly to work is now very boring. Today I left early and took the not-so-direct route to work. That was much better. It was a great ride, except that it ended at work.
The Nun is coming up on her 24,000 mile service. Since she's now out of warranty I'm going to do most or all of the service myself. I might chicken out on doing the bucket and shim valve adjustment. We'll see.
I'm still rolling on my first set of Tourance tires. I can't say enough good things about them. I will absolutely replace them with the same kind (if these suckers ever wear out!). If there is a better bad-road tire it can't be better by much, and I'm tired of experimenting.
The Nun still purrs like a lady and growls like a bitch. John Bloor has reason to be proud of the 2008 T100. I couldn't be happier with this motorcycle. She was "on" this morning. Or was it me? Or was it the gas? Who knows? All I know is she usually runs great but sometimes runs even better. All my Hondas were like that. They always ran great, but some days there just seemed to be a little extra something. Maybe I'm just nuts.
It is true that all my motorcycles, every one of them air-cooled, ran best in cooler weather. And I could swear this British bike loves the fog. Any motorhead knows the importance of atmospheric conditions on engine performance.
I think I've already blogged about the huge differences in performance I've experienced just by fueling up at different stations. Didn't I? Didn't I tell you that after filling up at one BP I was convinced that something was seriously wrong with the Nun? Didn't I tell you how I spent a morning riding at different RPMs and different inclines trying to get a feel for the problem when I noticed that I was low on gas and far from home? Didn't I tell you that after filling up at a 66 in Otto I putted to the edge of town then opened her up and almost flew off the back of my suddenly super-charged monster?
I'm not exaggerating the difference. I really thought the Nun was sick. One new tank of fuel and she was 110%. It would appear that fuel quality is important.
But there is one other important variable in my ever-changing motorcycling experience: me. I'm not quite the same person any two times I straddle the Nun. Sometimes I'm just not "into it." Other times the machine and I are one; a bionic centaur, half-man-half-motorcycle. On those occasions life is grand.
You say, "welcome back but where are the @#$% photos?" Kinda pushy, aren't you. OK, I'll take more photos. See ya soon.
Your pal,
The Lone Nun-rider
This morning I rode to work. I've seldom done that since moving because the ride directly to work is now very boring. Today I left early and took the not-so-direct route to work. That was much better. It was a great ride, except that it ended at work.
The Nun is coming up on her 24,000 mile service. Since she's now out of warranty I'm going to do most or all of the service myself. I might chicken out on doing the bucket and shim valve adjustment. We'll see.
I'm still rolling on my first set of Tourance tires. I can't say enough good things about them. I will absolutely replace them with the same kind (if these suckers ever wear out!). If there is a better bad-road tire it can't be better by much, and I'm tired of experimenting.
The Nun still purrs like a lady and growls like a bitch. John Bloor has reason to be proud of the 2008 T100. I couldn't be happier with this motorcycle. She was "on" this morning. Or was it me? Or was it the gas? Who knows? All I know is she usually runs great but sometimes runs even better. All my Hondas were like that. They always ran great, but some days there just seemed to be a little extra something. Maybe I'm just nuts.
It is true that all my motorcycles, every one of them air-cooled, ran best in cooler weather. And I could swear this British bike loves the fog. Any motorhead knows the importance of atmospheric conditions on engine performance.
I think I've already blogged about the huge differences in performance I've experienced just by fueling up at different stations. Didn't I? Didn't I tell you that after filling up at one BP I was convinced that something was seriously wrong with the Nun? Didn't I tell you how I spent a morning riding at different RPMs and different inclines trying to get a feel for the problem when I noticed that I was low on gas and far from home? Didn't I tell you that after filling up at a 66 in Otto I putted to the edge of town then opened her up and almost flew off the back of my suddenly super-charged monster?
I'm not exaggerating the difference. I really thought the Nun was sick. One new tank of fuel and she was 110%. It would appear that fuel quality is important.
But there is one other important variable in my ever-changing motorcycling experience: me. I'm not quite the same person any two times I straddle the Nun. Sometimes I'm just not "into it." Other times the machine and I are one; a bionic centaur, half-man-half-motorcycle. On those occasions life is grand.
You say, "welcome back but where are the @#$% photos?" Kinda pushy, aren't you. OK, I'll take more photos. See ya soon.
Your pal,
The Lone Nun-rider
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Tourance update
Last March when I put Tourance tires on the Nun I raved about them.
Now it's one year later and I'm even more impressed.
With a year's worth of wear they still stick better on bad roads than my previous tires.
The original Metzelers and Pirelli Sport Demons are only good for clean, smooth, dry roads; they slide like snake snot on anything else. The Tourance tires work on damp, dirty and poorly maintained roads (my favorite kind)..
Tourance wears like iron. I'll get two years out of front and rear tires.
I'm stuck on Tourance.
UPDATE 12-2017: Still stuck on Tourance. I see no point in even trying anything else.
Now it's one year later and I'm even more impressed.
With a year's worth of wear they still stick better on bad roads than my previous tires.
The original Metzelers and Pirelli Sport Demons are only good for clean, smooth, dry roads; they slide like snake snot on anything else. The Tourance tires work on damp, dirty and poorly maintained roads (my favorite kind)..
Tourance wears like iron. I'll get two years out of front and rear tires.
I'm stuck on Tourance.
UPDATE 12-2017: Still stuck on Tourance. I see no point in even trying anything else.
Springtime in Jeff Co Mo.
Jefferson County, Missouri, that is.
There are a few hobby "farms" with horses, goats and llamas but it's mostly suburban subdivisions perched on ridges and nestled in a few of the hollows. Most of the land is too steeply inclined for development. Rock strata jut out everywhere and the ecology is diverse. Neighbors include deer, raccoon, opossum, groundhogs and skunks as well as box turtles, garter snakes and skinks. The armadillo is a recent immigrant. There goes the neighborhood.
The roads along the ridges are some of the twistiest back roads anywhere. Other roads follow the contours of the hills like a lazy roller coaster. I see a few middleweight Euro and Asian motorcycles out here but not many highway hogs.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Winter Riding in Missouri
So far this winter I have mostly just ridden the Nun on weekends.
I only rode to work once so far this winter because morning or evening conditions are potentially hazardous on most days. I don't ride in the dark when temps are below freezing because icy patches are possible. Even when there has been no recent precipitation there can be moisture from other sources.
When temps drop toward the lower 40s F all the hogs disappear. The last of the rice rockets vanish a few degrees later. Then it's just me and some guy on a BMW out here in the Jefferson County hills. I haven't met him yet. We always seem to be going in opposite directions so our interaction has been limited to nods and waves.
Anywhere I stop, people ask me, "Isn't it a little cool for riding a motorcycle?" I list all the layers of thermal protection I'm wearing and explain that I ride mostly in the JeffCo twisties, which means I'm not usually going very fast. Still, a few people think I'm nuts.
I enjoy riding when it's cold. It's a different experience and a different challenge from riding in warmer weather.
The scenery is different, too. All summer my favorite woodland roads are lined with walls of greenery. Only in winter can I see all the way up the hills and down the valleys. And when there's snow on the ground those hills and valleys are breathtaking.
So what do I do to winterize my Triumph? Nothing. I ride that sucker.
I only rode to work once so far this winter because morning or evening conditions are potentially hazardous on most days. I don't ride in the dark when temps are below freezing because icy patches are possible. Even when there has been no recent precipitation there can be moisture from other sources.
When temps drop toward the lower 40s F all the hogs disappear. The last of the rice rockets vanish a few degrees later. Then it's just me and some guy on a BMW out here in the Jefferson County hills. I haven't met him yet. We always seem to be going in opposite directions so our interaction has been limited to nods and waves.
Anywhere I stop, people ask me, "Isn't it a little cool for riding a motorcycle?" I list all the layers of thermal protection I'm wearing and explain that I ride mostly in the JeffCo twisties, which means I'm not usually going very fast. Still, a few people think I'm nuts.
I enjoy riding when it's cold. It's a different experience and a different challenge from riding in warmer weather.
The scenery is different, too. All summer my favorite woodland roads are lined with walls of greenery. Only in winter can I see all the way up the hills and down the valleys. And when there's snow on the ground those hills and valleys are breathtaking.
So what do I do to winterize my Triumph? Nothing. I ride that sucker.
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