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March 27, 2008
No One Ever Crashed When We Rode
I heard from KB yesterday for the first time in years. He and I go way back. We met through friends and a common café in San Francisco right around the time I acquired my Lambretta SX200. He remembers (or should remember) when I graduated to "big wheels" and bought first the Honda CB350, then the BSA A65 Lightning, and ultimately the Morini 500. He And he respected my decision to stand by the little wheeled members of the stable.
We used to ride together every couple of weeks, first meeting for coffee and discussing the route then riding either north south or east of San Francisco to the coastal mountains and river valleys. We shared some other interests: fine art, wine, food, real estate, etc, but it was and is motorcycling that formed the real bond between us. I liked riding with Kent because when I tired of riding on large sweeping curves where the Guzzi's 2:1 advantage in displacement became evident, he never complained when I insisted on super-twisty roads where the Morini's flickableness and the road's narrowness prevented his passing me.
At one point, he shared a South of Market flat (with enclosed carport) with my Morini-friend TC. Though that particular arrangement did not work out in the long-run,* the three of us did once manage to ride to Yosemite. The ultimate object was Mono Lake, which happens to be the caldera of a dormant volcano. Walking back from dinner to the little housekeeping cabin, we felt the unmistakable rumble of an earthquake. The next morning we learned that all the roads in and out of the park, save one, were closed due to rock and mudslides. Thwarted in our attempt to photograph Mono Lake, we rode our bikes back to Healdsburg, where my future bride served us dinner.
KB has managed to hang on to his Guzzi CX100 Le Mans the entire time I've known him. He has made some substantial upgrades to his own fleet, adding a Guzzi 750 Sport (euro-model), a Le Mans 1000 (which he keeps in OR for Left Coast riding), and a 850 Le Mans. He was always more ready than I to suffer four-wheeled passion than I and has acquired since I've known him several Alfa-Romeo's, Porsche's, and most recently an Audi A4 Quattro. This last vehicle he deems a nod to practicality, since he needs a reliable way to get from Long Island City to his cabin up in Connecticut.
We talked about riding together again some time, perhaps near his place in the Adirondack's, perhaps in New Mexico. With the 851, he says, I might be able to finally keep up with him.
* After all, as Keynes famously said "In the long run, we are all dead."
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March 1, 2008
Reflections on a Garage Full of Motorcycles
I like having multiple motorcycles. Even more disturbing, I enjoy the thought of having even more. I understand that ownership and upkeep on a veritable fleet is difficult for non-collectors to understand, and indeed I struggle with the idea myself. One rationalization for having several bikes is that they serve different needs. I can ride my Trail 90 to work and back comfortably, since the traffic flow speed between there and home seldom exceeds the 90's top speed. (Every once in a while, I am slowed by a headwind.) However, I wouldn't dare ride the 90 to Cuba and beyond, much less Taos. I have reported here that it is nice to have a spare for a guest to use while they are visiting. This means that a pair of the bikes have to be suitable for the same kinds of roads.
Some bikes (in my case, the Benelli 250 SS and the Morini) simply deserve better than they have now. The Benelli I purchased as a potential lightweight commuter, and the Morini has served me for so long that getting rid of it now would seem more like a divorce than a business arrangement. Come to think of it the Morini has been with me longer than my wife, and it was hardly new to me when we were married. The Maicoletta is my retirement project, should I ever be so lucky as to (a) retire and (b) find the source of its mysterious inability to downshift.
So each bike in the fleet has its purpose, right? Of course not. I can ride only one motorcycle at a time, and as anyone who has bikes (plural) will tell you, there is one bike that ever gets the real miles put on it. In the past year, that is the 851. On the other hand, if I kept the 851 and ditched the others, the battery would go flat, the tires square, and it would seldom get beyond second gear. And rationalizations as above are no help in figuring out why I feel the need to compulsively review the eBay listings for F1's (too expensive so far) and early 90's 900 Supersports.
I will tell you this: When I walk through the garage, snaking between the bikes, I am thrilled in a beaming-smile-on-my-face kind of way. And that is worth something, I think.