Do Dreams have an expiry date?

It seems almost every week now I am wondering what it will be like leaving the west behind?  I think about riding my Serow on the KVR towards Kelowna, puttering on my 50, the back way into Princeton, that amazing lookout atop Osooyos, along with a hundred other great memories.  I sure liked biking BC.  It's user friendly to small bikes and more and more am I convinced small is the way to go.

 

Then of course there are the few spots in AB that a big dualie is the bike to have, the Trunk road comes to mind, and after 30 years I finally had my FTR story printed in a National mag.

East of town there are numerous back highways that a larger bike is more suited to, but not too large.  Not to mention a straightaway drive thru very pleasant territory down I 15 to LV and a sharp turn left to the AZ desert, my other home. 




Yup, I have such good friends here and tons of  memories.   Makes me wonder why I've been chasing this country home dream so long.  I mean only my Euro bike ride fantasy trip on a 600cc motorcycle took longer.

 

There must be some romance at work here do you think?

After all, having a place in a little valley to bounce around on my mid size dirt bike at age 60, what appeal is there in that?

Maybe it's proving once again, that bikes rule... and even if your territory shrinks, your world (of 20A) is still, your world.

Gotta be something to it.




Riding the Maritimes, I do very much remember the quiet little towns off the main drag, the ones I loved so much. Tyne Valley, Amherst, Cap Pele, Baddeck.  Sitting on an old wooden porch, having a Coke and Snickers, people speaking French/English, almost like being in Euro.

I can practically smell the salt air now... feel the breeze against my face.

To get there didn't take an overnight plane trip and a pocket full of Euros, just a couple of hours on the seat of a bike.

I will bet, that before long I have some old bike of mine registered and riding on these little back roads, hopefully with my rather youngish sweetie on the pillion, embracing my 4.10X18 midsection.  Yes it may not ever be monster truck size... but we are getting older by the minute.

Still though, I've ridden  22 countries through  Europe, various parts on various bikes in the US both east and west, across every province in this great country, and the fabled Baja peninsula a dozen times.  I've got not one, but many of my exploits published and paid for.  There are a half dozen novels waiting to see the light of day.

 
Could be that a shrinking territory where my Victor 441 or DS6B ride again after so many years, just might be the ticket.

Besides... I can just hop on my TTR 125 and pretend I'm some MX star in my backyard, without interference from uniformed gendarmes telling me

       "You can't ride here."

Only time will tell if this is the right move for the times or was better left in the past.

In the meanwhile, I work on the soon to be reality dream Eco home project, fix up my basement in Silver Springs, and sell some of my most beloved possessions, for like my cats... the MGB, XS2, Seca and Sense, are family to me.

I've had this dream since first riding my Beemer
R 60/5 across the country at 18 years of age.

Didn't quite work out as planned the first time around but yet here I am... heading towards it once again, 37 years on...

We're Travellers!

Tiny Slovenia... pop 2 million.

                                 YOU'VE GOT MAIL!
  

Another EU border crossing.

THIS morning a message popped up on the screen from my kid, Holly.

"Hi Dad, just thought I'd send a few pictures, Lisa is still asleep, jet lagged... I'm catching up on homework..."

The photos? 

Berlin's Reichstag, Amsterdam's canals, the Austrian castle where Richard the Lionhearted was reportedly held for ransom... My two girls are doing a Sirocco  tour of five countries including a couple of days in Marrakesh.





In all of Europe... one of my most fave countries!

WHERE does this come from anyway?  How did we get to be travellers?  Beth's side of the family and she herself are not travellers per se, yet my side has been all over the dang place.


Chateau on the banks of the Drava.

LEAVING my cosy Czech Hotel, I was greeted by cool weather, and wind driven rain.  Not so heavy that my MSR jacket was in danger of soaking clear thru, but certainly enough to make the travel less enjoyable.

I breezed by the Austrian border, then crossed the Danube in Vienna, thinking I may head east to Budapest.


Hard too see, but large fish hanging in the current...

THE thought of riding my last couple of days in rainy weather didn't greatly appeal to me, so I bypassed the BP turnoff on the E 60, and continued south on E 59.

Soon I was passing thru Graz and as the sky's cleared so did my mood.  I vowed to come back to Vienna and spend a couple of days in her historic splendor!


Communist era abandoned buildings in the former Yugoslavia.

MY rather short overnight had been somewhat, ahem... extended! 

Sure I'd only planned on a 350km loop into southern Slovakia, and so far I'd seen that country, Poland, Germany as far north as Berlin and was now on my 6th country!!!




Entering Hungary.  Wouldn't be the last time.

THE Slovenian republic crossed under the mag wheels and I began my eastern curve at Maribor... where I had a nice outdoor cafe lunch.  The skies were the most beautiful "sky" blue you can imagine.  The temperature had warmed, and both of us were happier again.  Traffic was light on the back roads I was riding, passing vehicles didn't even require a downshift to fifth.  I would just look ahead and dial it on, the abundant torque of the mildly tuned engine enough to squirt me past in short order.

PIROSKA was doing great and I couldn't have been more pleased.  Like the classy lady she was, we were having a fabulous trip together and were quickly proving to be very content travelling companions.  I'd originally thought of getting a big Enduro single, there are plenty of them over there, including XT 600's like I had at home, but given that most highways in Europe, even the dinky toy ones, were paved, the Divvie made pretty good sense!


Decrepit building across the street. 

LATER that afternoon, I crossed under the E 65 and entered Hungary at Barcs.  Here the border crossing was a bit more elaborate and I had to explain why I was riding a bike I didn't own.  Once they realized I had everything in order, I was allowed to proceed.

AT the city of Kaposvar I was getting mighty tired. I tried a couple of hotels/panzio's but both were full. Pondering my fate at the local McD's (don't laugh, they were always open and had pretty good food), I had no choice but to press on.

AS I motored along, growing ever more sleepy eyed by the moment, I saw a sign! 

As so often happens on my trips, when you are certain you'll be spending a cold night in some farmers barn slash haystack, with his lovely daughters :)  magically your lodgings for the night appear.

I finally pulled off the road at the tiny little village of Domlo, at the absolutely gorgeous Sport Panzio.  Built only 3 years previously, there were no other guests, I had a wonderful room, the boys made me a delicious meal and I had a great sleep under the stars, shining through the abundant sky light.

AS the only guest, the staff were very keen to learn about my travels and about Canada and the USA of course. 

Hungarians generally don't travel often.  It is expensive for them, and they tend to work long hours.  Whenever I traveled in country, I was always greeted by extremely curious locals full of questions. 

"Where did I live, was it really cold, did I own my own home, was I rich..."





Life finds a way... even on a rooftop!

 FOR 4500 forint (about $22 Cdn) it was the best bargain I would find on this trip and nearly on all my upcoming travels.


Overnight, 350Km trip turned into 10 days and 4500km!

TOMORROW I would be home in Jaszkizer. 

As so often happen in the life of the Dr of N Thusiasm... my planned overnight excursion across the Slovak border had encompassed 10 days and 4500km.  I'd ridden my Divvie on her shakedown cruise nearly the breadth of Canada! 

... and I was just getting warmed up...

IS Bigger, really better?

THERE'S no substitute for cubic inches... the famous saying goes.

That simple phrase could easily be translated into 'Cubic Dollars' for the uber wealthy.

For the merely faux wealthy, it could easily be read as 'Uber debt.'

If you are a motorcyclist, you have to appreciate the lack of enthusiasm and utter lack of customers hanging around bike shops these days anywhere in North America.

Most shops, and I'd say nearly all, are so dead, you could hear a wrist pin drop in the service bay.  The showrooms are devoid of buyers and even the perennial tire kickers have vanished.

Motorcycles magazines are paper thin, many are rehashing the same old stuff.

Everybody seems extremely tired.  When you walk into a dealership, sales people don't even rush out to greet you with a handshake.  If you can even find one, (you may have  ( to search with the skill of an SAS special forces guy) perhaps you'll find somebody scouring the want ads for some type of dependable employment.

Joke...

At the parts counter, you're more likely to see more guys/gals in dealership shirts than clients!

What is wrong with that picture?

For years dealers were selling bikes faster than the back room 17 year old could slap them together while the shop charged the customer $400 in Pre delivery inspection fees. 

When my buddy Rock was buying a new DR 650 at Bert's Cycle Mall in L.A.  one of several 'business managers' had somehow tacked on over 1200 bucks in additional charges!  Made the advertised sales price somewhat of a joke.

When I pointed out to him that charging 412 dollars for set up and PDI done by those same aforementioned teenagers, getting paid a flat 50 bucks to do it... and including $350 for freight when US Suzuki had it's warehouse and headquarters barely 20 miles distant and besides, the distributor for all major brands typically ship at no charge, buying extended warranty on a DR or pretty much anything was a waste of money, and that two hundred ninety nine dollars for 'documentation fees' was pretty excessive seeing as Rock was handing over cash on the barrel head, etc... all the explanations he had were as hollow as Lindsay Lohan's brain!





He eventually walked out of there with all those ridiculous charges reduced by 2/3!

Demanding a customer pay $120 per hour to change oil is asinine.  Charging in some cases 50 and 100% over MSRP for parts is simply greed and hiway robbery.

Let's not forget how often I heard from Harley Dealers charging thousands more per bike than the factory suggested retail, and to hear these same guys saying simply,

"If you don't take it, I have buyers lined up that will.."

How that's changed... there are discounted non current* HD's pretty much anywhere you look!



I'm not even going to mention that stupid fad of selling non ride able 120 c.i. 'custom' choppers for a hundred grand... sheer and utter idiocy.

Indian Larry is dead (rip) and hopefully that fad is too.



Get to the point Frank, I hear you guys saying... well here it is.  It's no secret that the industry has been hard hit by the ripple effect of the World wide mortgage meltdown.  After all when you're losing your job, your home and in many cases, you're family, everything you have created debt for... are you really interested in shopping for that must have big cruiser?  Me thinks not. 

Everybody that knows me, knows that I am a die hard rider.  Motorcycles have been a huge part of my life for more than four decades.  When I rode across Canada at age twenty, you were lucky to see another bike on the road all day long.  Of course we waved to one another!

Buying a new CBR/GSRX/XYZR etceterRR every 6 months... is foolish.  Spending 40K on a bike you can't turn in a medium sized parking lot has never appealed to me. 

Maybe on a Vincent or Velo...

Spending/leasing a top of the line Benz or Beemer just to show the World (and we know they do really care about you) that you've 'arrived' is lunacy.  When you are borrowing money to do it is lunacy times twelve!

Look what I ride. 

My largest displacement bike is an 885cc triple.  I also own a couple of 50's, a couple of 70's, a ninety, and various bikes up to 600cc (excluding the Triumph)  I've owned Wings and Ventures and even a Bimmer, but for the most part they've all been little wee bikes laddy! 

John Campbell, my friend and editor of Canadian Biker harks on what fun my various adventures on tiddlers have been!

Fact of the matter is, you don't need a 2300 cc motorcycle, nor even an 1800!  And as a manufacturer, you sure as hell don't need to sell them.

Funny how China, a burgeoning industrial and consumer society of gazillions, and the largest market for two wheelers in the world... somehow survives on iddy biddy bikes.




For those of you that have been around and remember what a Super Hawk was like, you know what I am talking about here.

Your choice... go ahead and ride a mega cruiser, you are so cool... or try and think back to when you began on a 250 and moved up to a 500!  How much fun it was to ride it with your main squeeze (of the week) on that flat back seat, to the Dairy Queen... in





Jasper! 
When a dirt bike was simple as a DT.  Light, lots of power, air cooled and manageable.  I would not be stretching the truth if I said many of my race bikes were way better than I was!  Do you really think you can out ride that KX450F or that GSXR 1000?

(insert chuckle here) 

Pride and oneupmanship, fostered by the suppliers of debt, have mislead us and believe me when I tell you, I am being very kind. 

How is it that no one has been prosecuted over the crime, and I do mean crime... that put so much of the world into this mess. 

Just like a gun doesn't kill people they say, neither are you forced to leverage your meagre existence ten fold so you can fill you garage (that you can't afford) with toys you haven't the skill to use!

I don't know what the answer to the financial woes of the planet are, but I do know this.  As an independent financial adviser for a dozen years, I can say... just as the saying goes,

"There's no substitute for cubic inches" so does the saying, "Don't bite off more than you can chew..."

*unsold previous years models.

The Autobahn...

     THE  Black Benz flashed by me so fast... I had to look down to see if the decals were still on my tank!

After warming up at McD's, I was heading south towards the Czech republic on the Autobahn. 

I'd passed several wind farms reminiscent of PEI or southern AB.

     FOR a time I was riding in the right hand lane, with occasional foray's into the middle lane to pass a slower vehicle.

Slow is a relative term of course.

Next to a hare, a tortoise is slow.  Compared to a hare, a gazelle is fast but next to a Cheetah, maybe not so much.

     GLANCING at the speedometer, I noticed my road speed hovering near 190 kph.  Pretty near the max for the Divvie.  I rode like this for about 50 kilometers, feet on the rear pegs, head under the bubble.

Big German sedans flashed by me in the left lane threatening to suck the paint off the bike.

     MY best guess is most of them were travelling at least 220 plus kph.

There were no sports cars although later on in Italy, I would see plenty... just big, expensive Audi's, Mercedes, and BMW sedans.

NO flashy colors, just grey, white or black.

     AS the miles rolled by and the cool air began penetrating the various openings in my riding gear, I'd had my fill of travelling at maximum velocity, and slowed to a more sedate 120-130 kph.

Maybe a Hayabusa or Big Ninja would be a better mount, but even such high speeds do not long entertain.  At a hundred and eighty miles per, things are no more than a blur.

     MY thoughts drifted back to 1985, I'd just uncrated and serviced one of the first if not the first RZ 500 Yamaha in Canada.  I rode that bike (and GPZ Turbos etc) around on the back roads of the Maritimes, often at road race speeds.  There was one time on route 225 as the speedo was nearly 240, the engine began a sudden stutter.  The fuel was getting low and I needed to switch to reserve hurriedly.  Funny how a two stroke V4 guzzles when those flat slides are yanked open :)

    THAT meant having to reach for the fuel valve which was near my left thigh, this meant having to move my leg outboard of the lower fairing slightly.



No sooner than I did this, a motion that took perhaps 1.75 seconds, the bike immediately began to wobble!  Badly!!!


Badly enough that a lesser man may have filled his Calvin Kleins!

As soon as my leg was tucked back in, the wobble ceased.

    
RIDING at high speed is great... on a race track!

Here on one of Germany's many autobahns, with a heavy 35L trunk high up and far back... not so much.

In my 7 months riding Europe, I would have plenty of time to stretch Piroska's 600 cc DOHC air cooled 6 speed legs!

Autobahns.
Autostradas.
Autopistas.
Autofast!

I tried to find accommodation in Prague, but there was none available at the hotels I stopped at.



     ONCE past the city of Brno, I came across a major traffic jam just a few miles from the Moto-GP circuit.

Believing there was some type of race or event going on, I was thinking of looking in.

It was getting late in the day and truthfully, I was quite tired.

     TRAVELLING long distances on motorcycles especially in unfamiliar places (and was this EVER unfamiliar to me!) can be quite tiring. 

The wind, traffic, the noise (I wear earplugs), rain... all conspire to wear you out.




The Diversion, like my Seca back home, is actually very comfortable for a multitude of riding conditions but after 9-10 hours in the saddle, you are pretty much bushed.

     SITTING in gridlocked traffic I soon noticed bikes moving through the cars and lorries between lanes or along the armco.*





I followed suit (when in Czech right!) and apart from some experience with lane splitting in L.A. this was the first I'd done this in Euro.

Cars were surprisingly very courteous, some even moving slightly to allow me to pass.

     IT took me about 20 minutes to weave slowly amongst the five or six kilometers of creeping vehicles and we (the other bikes and myself) were through.  An infrequent collision had been the source of the hold up. 

Rounding a bend among the low laying mountains that make up a good deal of the country, I found a service station that also had a camping park and hotel.

Thirty eight Euros bought me a hot shower, a comfy bed and a peaceful and restful night. 

Bonus... the restaurant served excellent low cost supper and breakfast.  No McD's for me this night!

*Armco - those metal barriers that separate highways.

BERLIN

One of the best meals of my entire European adventure.

AFTER putting Piroska to bed in the Hotel Berlin parking compound, I checked in.  For 46 Euro's I got a simple, compact but modern room for myself.  It was barely the size of a large bedroom with a tiny desk and washroom built in.


Waitress and Chef

THAT evening I wandered the immediate vicinity, stopping for what turned out to be one of the very best meals I'd had in all my travels.  The restaurant had been run by the same family for nearly 100 years and even though business was slow due to some construction (all of Europe seems to be under construction!) and the world wide recession that was just gathering speed, it was a pleasant evening.



This is the Smart for two, we should have got!

 BY the time I arrived back in my room at the hotel, I was pretty much wiped out.  It had been a long day's ride, full of excitement including the near collision!  I planned to get up early Saturday morning, and with tourist guide in hand, make a trip downtown to see some of the most famous Berlin sights.


City Hall at 6 a.m.

 WHEN the wake-up call came in from the automated service at 4.30 a.m. I could barely lift my head from the pillow.  I realized that I was getting close to pushing my travel limits, the combination of cool weather with rain squalls, hard riding without proper gear and the simple awe of what my senses were experiencing, were all conspiring to do me in!  But, for all that, I was pumped, hell... I was in Berlin! 

For a simple two day overnight ride... this was turning into a marathon adventure!


One view of the massive Berlindome.

ARRIVING in the dark at the center of the city, I had to use my headlamp to read my 'Mickey Mouse' over sized tourist map.  Berlin city hall was just to my left, I waited until exactly 6 to snap my first photo of the day, shivering in the dampness and coolness... I was surrounded by statues, memorials and famous landmarks of what is one of the premiere historical cities of the entire World.  You couldn't do it justice to describe the history and architecture, much of which of course was bombed into rubble during the sustained allied air offensive and the subsequent Russian invasion.

Kaiser Wilhelm.

EVEN though most of us are familiar with the post war occupied Berlin, especially the infamous "wall", the city is truly quite beautiful and dates back to 500 B.C. when the area was home to early Germanic tribes.  In more recent times of course, the city and country is famous for Mozart, Bach and Beethoven.  It was also the birthplace of one Karl Marx! 

How ironic is that?


Piroska at the Brandenburg Gate! I've taken Berlin!!

 THE Brandenburg Gate has been the historical entrance to the city, first constructed in the late 1700's and rebuilt as recently as 12 years ago after suffering the same fate as much of the rest of the country.  Much of Germany's cities were reduced to bombed out rubble by the concentrated air war of the 1940's.

Reich stag.

THERE are few landmarks more recognizable within the city center as the Reich stag.  Anyone that has ever seen any movie footage of the second world war, will remember the scenes of destruction around this government edifice.  I can recall a hundred motion pictures over my lifetime of this Grand building pockmarked and riddled with shell fire and bomb blasts...  Today, as you can see, it has been completely rebuilt and once again stands proud.


After WW2, the "Liberating" Russians left their mark.

MOST people know little of the Russian army advance from near defeat at Moscow followed by such turning points in history as Stalingrad, but the truth is, the German military led by Hitler, were soundly trounced by the strength of the Allies and especially the Red Army.  In amongst the historic monuments are latter day, post war reminders of the stunning victory of the Russkies.  Little time was wasted in memorializing their occupation of the city and defeat of the once mighty Wehrmacht.


Including a mounted T 34

GIVEN the early Saturday morning ride throughout the city, I found myself pretty much all alone.  I could ride my bike right up to the steps of the Reich stag, across wide Blvd's onto sidewalks for the best photo ops.  It wasn't until I began the trek back to the hotel that traffic began it's daily frantic pace.  By then I had seen much of the must see tourist destinations and for a guy that read so much about European and world war history in my lifetime... a significant event it had been indeed. 


and of course the famous "Victory" memorial.

ONCE back at the hotel, I packed my rather meagre possession's into my tank bag, tail bag and Givi trunk.  The hotel was just off the freeway that took me out of the city and back onto the autobahn.  


Kaiser Wilhelm Cathedral.

 COLD forced me off the road and into a well lit, warm and inviting McDonald's an hour south of the city.  After a mega cup of coffee and some McMuffin thing or other, I was ready to tackle what came next.  Remember, my overnight plan had disintegrated days ago and I was well beyond the boundaries of that simple day trip... I was on the road in Europe!