Yesterday, I had to run into the bustling metropolis of Summerside, PEI. I was meeting a young man who, with his fiancee will be renting one of our apartment units. In fact we rented both of the vacant apartments this week.
Anyway, I decided to ride my Thunderbird into town. It was warm, but the wind was picking up steadily, and my growing headache suggested to me a front was moving in. Yeah... I'm like the weatherman but more accurate and unpaid!
My appointment was for six, and I had been delayed by the traffic circle, where a very large truck had obviously impacted a very small SUV at a low speed. Glass shattered everywhere and the occupants of the SUV were being attended by EMT's from a waiting ambulance. It never surprises me because even here, where several 1 or 2 lane traffic circles have replaced many intersections of yore, I see the darnedest things. At this very spot earlier in the week, I witnessed a car stop in the circle to allow 5-6 vehicles waiting, to enter and proceed. Of course this is entirely contrary to the point of the point, which is to keep traffic moving as smoothly and quickly as possible. All it does is confuses other road users, "what are they doing, should I stay, should I go..."
Having grown up in Edmonton AB, where there were several such circles even in the sixties, (Groat road) I am familiar with them. Of course in the times I have ridden in Mexico and of course Europe, where I've ridden my bikes on circles with 4, 5 and even a dozen lanes. you can be reasonably assured that road users understand the basics of the flow. Back in my youth, riding my X-6 or Big Bear 305 scrambler or T 350 Rebel, all with fixed foot pegs, we had great fun in dragging the pegs riding the circles in the wee hours of the morning.
Having explained the lease paperwork to Spencer, I was heading back home. In the Wal Mart parking lot I noticed a little red bike, that was very familiar to me. It was about to be loaded into a bumper rack. I wheeled the T Bird into the other lane, having first shoulder checked and hand signaled, and pulled up to have a conversation with the owner. They were a couple from Ontario, driving the Maritimes in their Winnebago/VW motorhome, perfect it seemed for a couple traveling. The bike in question was a 1981 Yamaha SR 250 T. That was the enduro engined Exciter, a 250 four stroke single with electric start. It was in incredibly good condition, weighing about 325 lbs, with a comfortable riding position and a fairly peppy SOHC four stroke engine, coupled to a five speed gearbox.
The uniqueness of this particular model, was in the letter 'T'. With the turn of a key, the rear seat could be removed and a very spacious, matching red trunk, plunked into its place.
I had sold many of these models from my Freedom Cycle shop in the eighties and it was nice to see an example so well cared about. He told me that they had purchased the motorhome and bike years ago and now retired (my guess was he was mid 60's) they had grandiose plans to travel. For the next couple of years, they were going to scout around North America and work out the bugs and prepare themselves for the "Great Adventure".
You see Graham, explained to me that in 2015, they were loading the MH and bike into a cargo container and heading for Europe to spend their later years doing something that was a dream for them. I instantly felt both envious and cheerful for them, wishing them 'Happy Trails' in their goal. As we shook hands and I departed on my English made motorcycle, riding a bike that if not similar, certainly had the spirit of the Thunderbird 650 of old, bikes I coveted hoping to blaze my own travels with as I got older. That was back in the sixties... remember Haight Ashbury, Viet Nam, Pierre Elliot and his single digit salute etc...
In that time, back when we as kids were wearing rubber and steel off our solidly mounted (fine line there between thrills and disaster) foot pegs, I myself dreamed of riding my bike to far off locations, learning as I did. I have always maintained that there is absolutely no substitute for cubic experience and as Clive Cussler suggests, you weren't going to get that by sitting on the couch watching television.
As the storm clouds gathered and the wind picked up pushing bike and rider cross road, I reflected on the choices I made. At an early age, I was packing duffle bags, then later saddlebags, traveling to far off places in Canada the USA and Mexico before heading overseas. This couple had worked their lives so they could do it in retirement.
In some ways I feel like a real life Merlin the fictional magician in King Arthur's court, who reportedly lived his life in reverse. I was biking X Canada at twenty, New England in my thirties, and in Baja in my early forties, why... people would ask, because I may not be able to do it in my 60's, that's what I would reply.
Now that I am approaching that number, I look back on the times I took off work and rode destinations that most people only read about in the travel mags, whereas now, after my body has been beat up by cars running into me, racing injuries, heart attacks and various other ailments, I am quite happy and content to ride my little TTR around my grass track, listen to the Boss or the Stones or the Beatles while cutting grass, or planning short trips such as Cap Pele with Mike or with Ron around the Cabot Trail, a beautiful road that I have ridden dozens of times but enjoy it immensely each time. I'm prepping my newly acquired VX 800 shafty, for which I am fabricating hardware to mount period Krauser bags for Ron to ride while I sit upon my T Bird.
BTW... it rained hard last night.
Anyway, I decided to ride my Thunderbird into town. It was warm, but the wind was picking up steadily, and my growing headache suggested to me a front was moving in. Yeah... I'm like the weatherman but more accurate and unpaid!
My appointment was for six, and I had been delayed by the traffic circle, where a very large truck had obviously impacted a very small SUV at a low speed. Glass shattered everywhere and the occupants of the SUV were being attended by EMT's from a waiting ambulance. It never surprises me because even here, where several 1 or 2 lane traffic circles have replaced many intersections of yore, I see the darnedest things. At this very spot earlier in the week, I witnessed a car stop in the circle to allow 5-6 vehicles waiting, to enter and proceed. Of course this is entirely contrary to the point of the point, which is to keep traffic moving as smoothly and quickly as possible. All it does is confuses other road users, "what are they doing, should I stay, should I go..."
Having grown up in Edmonton AB, where there were several such circles even in the sixties, (Groat road) I am familiar with them. Of course in the times I have ridden in Mexico and of course Europe, where I've ridden my bikes on circles with 4, 5 and even a dozen lanes. you can be reasonably assured that road users understand the basics of the flow. Back in my youth, riding my X-6 or Big Bear 305 scrambler or T 350 Rebel, all with fixed foot pegs, we had great fun in dragging the pegs riding the circles in the wee hours of the morning.
Having explained the lease paperwork to Spencer, I was heading back home. In the Wal Mart parking lot I noticed a little red bike, that was very familiar to me. It was about to be loaded into a bumper rack. I wheeled the T Bird into the other lane, having first shoulder checked and hand signaled, and pulled up to have a conversation with the owner. They were a couple from Ontario, driving the Maritimes in their Winnebago/VW motorhome, perfect it seemed for a couple traveling. The bike in question was a 1981 Yamaha SR 250 T. That was the enduro engined Exciter, a 250 four stroke single with electric start. It was in incredibly good condition, weighing about 325 lbs, with a comfortable riding position and a fairly peppy SOHC four stroke engine, coupled to a five speed gearbox.
The uniqueness of this particular model, was in the letter 'T'. With the turn of a key, the rear seat could be removed and a very spacious, matching red trunk, plunked into its place.
I had sold many of these models from my Freedom Cycle shop in the eighties and it was nice to see an example so well cared about. He told me that they had purchased the motorhome and bike years ago and now retired (my guess was he was mid 60's) they had grandiose plans to travel. For the next couple of years, they were going to scout around North America and work out the bugs and prepare themselves for the "Great Adventure".
You see Graham, explained to me that in 2015, they were loading the MH and bike into a cargo container and heading for Europe to spend their later years doing something that was a dream for them. I instantly felt both envious and cheerful for them, wishing them 'Happy Trails' in their goal. As we shook hands and I departed on my English made motorcycle, riding a bike that if not similar, certainly had the spirit of the Thunderbird 650 of old, bikes I coveted hoping to blaze my own travels with as I got older. That was back in the sixties... remember Haight Ashbury, Viet Nam, Pierre Elliot and his single digit salute etc...
In that time, back when we as kids were wearing rubber and steel off our solidly mounted (fine line there between thrills and disaster) foot pegs, I myself dreamed of riding my bike to far off locations, learning as I did. I have always maintained that there is absolutely no substitute for cubic experience and as Clive Cussler suggests, you weren't going to get that by sitting on the couch watching television.
As the storm clouds gathered and the wind picked up pushing bike and rider cross road, I reflected on the choices I made. At an early age, I was packing duffle bags, then later saddlebags, traveling to far off places in Canada the USA and Mexico before heading overseas. This couple had worked their lives so they could do it in retirement.
In some ways I feel like a real life Merlin the fictional magician in King Arthur's court, who reportedly lived his life in reverse. I was biking X Canada at twenty, New England in my thirties, and in Baja in my early forties, why... people would ask, because I may not be able to do it in my 60's, that's what I would reply.
Now that I am approaching that number, I look back on the times I took off work and rode destinations that most people only read about in the travel mags, whereas now, after my body has been beat up by cars running into me, racing injuries, heart attacks and various other ailments, I am quite happy and content to ride my little TTR around my grass track, listen to the Boss or the Stones or the Beatles while cutting grass, or planning short trips such as Cap Pele with Mike or with Ron around the Cabot Trail, a beautiful road that I have ridden dozens of times but enjoy it immensely each time. I'm prepping my newly acquired VX 800 shafty, for which I am fabricating hardware to mount period Krauser bags for Ron to ride while I sit upon my T Bird.
BTW... it rained hard last night.
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