Baked with Love

Was out for a quick ride the other day and came across the Bimbo Bakeries truck. The website states that their products are "always baked with love." I couldn't stop giggling in my helmet. Hmmmm....I wonder if they take custom orders?

Twist of the Wrist

I've recently realized that I'm not well connected to any form of motorcycle community. When I examine my own riding history and style, I find I've been that way most of my riding life. I usually ride alone. A benefit to solo travel includes being able to stack on as many miles as my skinny butt can handle without having to worry about my fellow riders stopping 300 miles before I'm ready. I've always written off some of the drawbacks to my anti-social tendencies. I'm talking about the loneliness that only a lone rider feels standing at 5,000 ft. on the Cherohala Skyway in March watching the clouds sift through the skeletal trees. Cheery, ain't it. Truth be told, I've never much cared for the company of other human beings, even my own kind. Riding the Ninja 650 doesn't exactly attract those motorcyclists in whose company I'd genuinely feel welcome. Most riders mistake it for a sport bike when it's really a standard with some plastic for show. As a result, I frequently draw the attention of the squids, whose vacant heads annoy me, who can not exercise restraint in spinning that yarn about how they crashed their precious GSXR-750 on the interstate while pulling a wheelie at 90 mph and can't wait to try the stunt again next week.

"Just as soon as I get another bike," they say, eyeing my 650 in a way that always makes my heart drop a little.

Another disadvantage to my lack of communion with the motorcycling general populace is that I often miss events like the one night only opening of Twist of the Wrist: Louisville Art on Motorcycle Culture. It just so happens that while screwing off....err....surfing the net at work last Thursday, I came across an article in the cyber version of the Louisville Eccentric Observer detailing the opening of the show and the lives of some of the artists exhibiting. The motorcyclists and artists interviewed for the piece described their love of vintage machines in particular. Having owned several quirky old bikes myself and cultivated a wallflower's interest in two-wheeled culture, I decided that this was something that I had to check out.

Now, I'm not going to wax poetic on the virtues of modern art or the reflection of society such art provides. I just don't have it in me and, frankly, I really don't care. Vintage bike society intrigues me while vintage bike artist society I find somewhat aloof and unreachable. While I'm not one of those riders to sit around and discuss the shaping effects of motorcycles on rebellion in our modern culture, I can appreciate a stunning photograph of a laced wheel strung with cobwebs as the machine to which it's attached slowly rusts into the forgotten ground of a motorcycle salvage yard. It appeals to the lonewolf in me. Sarah Lyon, a female rider, mechanic, and photographer, contributed the most stunning piece in the show, her bronzed pair of leather motorcycle harness boots, which witnessed 30,000 miles of Sarah's travels on two wheels. All of the small imperfections immortalized in those boots spoke to me in a way that reached past my intellect and kicked me somewhere in my gut.

And even this anti-social got a chance to practice his communication skills a little bit. Here's a few photos from outside the show that capture one of those rare moments when my keepers let me out from under the stairs.

Here I am discussing a Honda C350 project with another attendee

Gives new meaning to the term Iron Butt

Assorted scooter trash discussing the shaping effects of motorcycles on rebellion in our modern culture

In the end, for me, it's always about the bikes

Murder Cycles

Lounging in the cool dark of my local cinema for a matinee screening of Terminator Salvation, I witnessed the debut of several new Terminator machines. Among these killers are the moto-terminators, an automated, two-wheeled death dealer based on Ducati's Hypermotard platform.

Preview...Postview...Whatever

Back in August, my wife and I attended a special screening of Long Way Down, the two-hour director's cut, in a local theater. Unfortunately, I wasn't a subscriber to the channel on which the entire series aired starting later that same evening. I thought I'd post the preview from that series here. Enjoy.

Long Way...Through?

As a big fan of the original book and television series, Long Way Round, I was excited to learn that Ewan and Charlie planned another epic adventure. This time, the pair planned to ride from the point farthest north in Scotland to the furthest point south in Africa, a trip of nearly 15K miles. They rode in the shadow of the pyramids, cruised along the Nile, and dodged elephants in the deserts of Namibia. The two visited several charities throughout the trip, including Unicef and Riders for Health, an organization of motorcycle riders delivering medications to those without access to those medications throughout rural Africa. The friends stopped in Rwanda to visit the sites of horrific genocide. As usual, they sampled the cuisine of each country through which they passed.

So why am I not as satisfied with Long Way Down as I remember being when finishing my read of Round? I picked up and read Round as a paperback before I watched the TV series. When I finally purchased and viewed the actual video series, I was doubly amazed with the magnitude of the journey. With Long Way Down, I'm already aware that the series for television exists. The book, constructed in the same manner as Round, that is, Ewan and Charlie alternate as the narrator of their tale, served merely to whet my appetite for what I believe will undoubtedly be another monumental piece of motorcycle film making.

I cite only minor annoyances with the book. At one point, Ewan's wife, Eve, visited the pair and traveled with them for about one week. The book's narrator's continue unaltered in their telling of their tale, though they separated following Eve's arrival. I would like to have seen entries in the book by Eve, as she becomes such an integral part of the story for a short while. While the pair do little to acknowledge the effect of Eve's arrival on the overall mood of the journey, it's clear that she acts as a sort of antagonist against the two friends. Permitting Eve to use her own voice as a narrator could perhaps have diminished her standing as an outsider. It also would have created structurally in writing what occurred thematically in the book.

Though I found the book to be a slower read than the first time I experienced Ewan and Charlie's writing, Long Way Down's worth the read. In the least, it peaks the interest and may act as a primer for the video series. I spent most of this last weekend watching the Round series again and hoping that Long Way Down would live up to the legacy of it's predecessor. What I truly enjoy about the books and the series is that it steers readers and viewers away from the stereotype of the biker as an American outlaw. We can ride long and hard, be free in the wind whether on this continent or another, sleep under the open sky, and still retain our sense of compassion for one another and the human race in general.

Every Now and Zen

I'll be the first to admit that I've never read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance in it's entirety. I've picked it up several times and worked my way into it's pages only to pull away when my admittedly short attention span became entranced by something requiring a little less work to enjoy. Thanks to Mark Richardson's book, Zen and Now: On the Trail of Robert Pirsig and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, I know I'm no longer alone in that sentiment. In his book, the author makes reference to having begun Zen and the Art several times before cultivating the discipline to complete the read and then returns to Pirsig's book a second time in order to develop an enjoyment of the work.

It is following this second passage, completed on the author's 41st birthday, that Mr. Richardson begins to plan his own motorcycle journey. He will retrace the Zen route, planning to remain as true to the original work as possible. The author has done his research through referencing several guidebooks and by communicating via letter with the Pirsig family. Just prior to his 42nd birthday, Mr. Richardson sets off on his Suzuki DR600 to follow Pirsig's narrator west from Minneapolis to San Francisco. The author transforms into what his book refers to as a Pirsig Pilgrim or Zen Pilgrim. In his travels west, the author stops at locations mentioned in Zen and the Art and contacts persons depicted in the original work.

As Mr. Richardson will tell you, Zen and the Art isn't really about motorcycles at all. Robert Pirsig used the journey by motorcycle of son and father as a metaphore for investigations philosophical. Zen and Now isn't really concerned with motorcycles either. Following the original route, Mr. Richardson examines how the Zen and the Art philosophy impacted his own life. The author reflects on his relationships with the people closest to him, mainly his wife and children, and contemplates the Quality of his life. The meaningfullness of the writer's life parallels the autobiographical text in Zen and Now on the Pirsig family. In the end, it's not so much redemption offered up by Mr. Richardson as the opportunity for enlightenment, both for himself and the reader's view of the Pirsig family.

While the book contains no photos of the journey, for it doesn't truly require any, pictures from the author's journey can be found at the companion website, Zen and Now.

Video with a Twist

Looking for something to chase away the winter doldrums? Discovery Turbo Channel offers motorcyclists the opportunity to view several series of videos taken from popular television programs aired on the Discovery Channel, including the American Chopper and Biker Build-Off series. While I do enjoy watching the production of a chopper, there's only so much dysfunctional family drama centered around American iron I can take.

Of particular interest to this rider was the Twist the Throttle series. Twist focuses on the manufacturers from around the world, including a few Japanese, Italian, and British companies. The episodes provide a brief overview of each company's history, such as Kawasaki's start as a shipping company or Bimota's beginning as a heating and air conditioning business. Each episode progresses through how and where that particular brand of motorcycle is manufactured to an enticing exploration of a brand's iconic models, such as Honda's CBR1000RR.

With limited riding time through the colder months, I'm always looking for methods of keeping my wanderlust in check. A few good books and a series like Twist keep me dreaming of open highway, dry pavement, and the sun on my back.

Happy New Year!

Here's the video of Robbie Maddison's New Year's Eve jump in Vegas. Yup, gravity still works.