Tag Archives: Motorcycle Touring

BMW launch new SoulFuel Escape guided motorcycle tours

BMW Motorrad Australia
‘SoulFuel Escape’

BMW are offering motorcyclists a chance to join them on a 4-day / 5-night Roadtrip on a BMW R 18 or R nineT, with a relaxed motorcycle touring experience while exploring some of the best regions of Australia.

Ride your own R 18 or R nineT or hire a bike from the R 18 range to discover heritage road cruising at its finest.

Enjoy a reprieve from the daily grind with an event designed to transport you to back to the basics, with nothing but a motorcycle and the road ahead on your mind.

Taking in incredible scenery, fantastic riding, and a bunch of great experiences along the way – this is the perfect event to discover the R 18 range for new customers or stretch the legs on your current BMW heritage bike.

The Motodevelopment team behind the iconic BMW Safari events have prepared a fantastic route for our first event, cruising from the Hawkesbury Valley & Bathurst up through the Hunter Valley to Port Macquarie from the 2nd – 6th March 2022.

BMW’s first SoulFuel Escape will have a limited capacity with 12 x R 18 Bike Hire places and 18 places for customers riding their own R 18 or R nineT.

Bookings go on sale Thursday 27th January at 9am AEDT

EVENT #1 – NSW

The Details:

  • The SoulFuel Escape – A BMW Motorrad Heritage Bike Roadtrip
  • Event #1 NSW – Windsor > Port Macquarie 2nd – 6th March
  • 4 Days Riding / 5 Nights’ Accommodation + Experiences along the way
  • 30 Customers (12 x R 18 Hire Bike Places / 18 x Owned R 18 or R nineT Places)
  • Guided Road Motorcycle Touring with Motodevelopment
  • Bookings Live from Thursday 27th January at 9am

The Route:

  • Day 1 – Windsor > Bathurst
  • Day 2 – Bathurst > Hunter Valley
  • Day 3 – Hunter Valley > Tamworth
  • Day 4 – Tamworth > Port Macquarie

Pricing:

  • Single Package: $3,999
  • 2-Up Package: $4,899

Package Inclusions:

  • 5 Nights of Premium Accommodation
  • Daily Planned Routes with Lead & Sweep Riders
  • Full Event Support including Tech & Luggage Transfer
  • Personalised Event Rider Pack
  • All Breakfasts & Dinners Included
  • 2 Custom Experience Activities

Bike Hire

4 Day Bike Hire Cost = $1,000. Available fleet for Event #1 will include

  • 3 x BMW R 18
  • 3 x BMW R 18 Classic
  • 3 x BMW R 18 B
  • 3 x BMW R 18 Transcontinental

Bookings go on sale Thursday 27th January at 9am AEDT

Source: MCNews.com.au

Riding Ohio’s Triple Nickel

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Ohio State Route 555, also known as the Triple Nickel, has for a long time been a beacon, calling single riders or large groups from all corners to experience its challenge. (Photos by the author)

No more than 10 miles from where I learned to ride a motorcycle is one of our country’s finest set of twists and turns. Prejudiced, you may be thinking, but these are not just my thoughts. They come straight from Car and Driver magazine, which in 2020 published a list of the dozen best driving (and riding!) roads in America. First on their list: Ohio State Route 555, also known as the Triple Nickel.

It’s a throwback, a two-lane highway built in another era, originally a gravel road for farmers and small-town folk to get to the big cities of Zanesville or Belpre, back in the Depression years when you might find a Hudson or Studebaker puttering along its 63 miles, the driver cursing every twist and turn that today make it a destination for car and motorcycle enthusiasts.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
The Triple Nickel has the feel of a time long ago. Some may think it has a nostalgic charm, but don’t be deceived. There’s attitude-a-plenty along its miles. Photos by the author.

Nicholas Wallace introduced his Car and Driver piece by writing about the mystique of the best places to aim your car, or in our case, motorcycle: “Looking for an adventure – even if only in your mind? Let these treks take you away. Maybe it’s the fact that, despite constricting responsibilities and busy schedules, the car still stands as a beacon of freedom in our daily lives. It would take us hundreds of pages to list every great road, so instead we’ve brought you twelve of the best. Twisty, scenic, dangerous, and remote, these routes offer a lifetime’s supply of variety. So pack your stuff and head out – we promise it will be worth it.”  

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Pick a direction and at some point the highway will take you there, but rarely in a straight line.

Our motorcycles offer us that same beacon of freedom. Starting just south of Zanesville, I’ve been down our great Ohio highway many times, always on something made for scraping footpegs, not that I still have that kind of nerve. But today was to be different. For this ride I’d be on three wheels, on my brother’s Can-Am Spyder. It was to be my maiden voyage, my first time on his trike, soon to be mine. Chuck had warned me about an adjustment period, the time it would take to get comfortable on a machine so different from the two-wheeled motorcycles that have carried me for over half a million miles.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel

Click here to view/download the Triple Nickel route on REVER

But my life had changed. Two vertigo attacks within three days had forced me to open my eyes to what might come next. The first bout had been when riding my Beemer on a western Ohio county road. In an instant I simply lost all sense of balance, going left of center and crashing in a farmer’s front yard. Luckily, I was unhurt and there was little damage to my bike. The second attack, when in my car, sealed the deal. For nearly a year since my crash, I’d been without a bike, until today.

The three-wheeled cycle, a 2014 model, had been Chuck’s pride and joy, the best bike he’d ever owned, he told me. Riding it that day was bittersweet. It should have been Chuck out on his Spyder. But his life had taken a turn of its own. For half of his 66 years he’d been plagued with muscular dystrophy, the disease slowly eating away at his ability to get around. It had finally gotten the upper hand, relegating Chuck to a walker and a wheelchair.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Dozens of American flags lined a long section of the highway, quickly out of view over the next hilltop. Around Halloween, there are small pumpkins on display.

But he had not gone quietly into his new solitude. Over the previous several years, Chuck had a single focus: to get his Spyder to 200,000 miles. He’d pushed hard, riding hundreds of miles every day. Only three years earlier he’d ridden over 43,000 miles in 12 months, with every year but the last tallying well over 30,000. But last June, at the height of the riding season, his body told him it was finished. It was done. (You can read more about Chuck’s high-mileage pursuits in “Chuck’s Race”.)

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
There are reminders along the highway of other eras, with Ohio’s famous highway having outlived them all.

Chuck had put up a valiant fight, but there are some things a human being simply can’t overcome. That last day, when he parked his trike, its odometer was frozen at 188,303 miles. But now, on this day – my day – it was to move again. It had fresh oil and a full tank of gas, so all I had to do was to check the tire pressure. Chuck had kept his Can-Am road-ready all winter, sometimes visiting and sipping a beer or two, reminiscing about the good old days, sometimes firing it up, simply to listen to the Spyder’s engine quietly humming along.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Farms, some owned by the Amish, thrive in the area, most found on hilly terrain, our motorcycles carving along their boundary lines.

The Spyder had been waiting, patiently, for nearly a year for its next adventure. It had waited long enough. Me too! For his trike, this was to be a new spring with a long summer ahead. There were miles to be ridden, new places to explore, with me holding the grips.

It was to be a careful ride. It was me that had to be broken in. Chuck watched as I rode up and down his rural road, getting my first feel of the Spyder. I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. He knew it would be my goal to get his Spyder’s odometer in motion once again, to get it past 200,000 miles. His trike was not meant to sit as a quiet monument to its past glory. What Chuck knew, in no uncertain terms, was that the road was where his Spyder was meant to be. And maybe, hopefully, this year it would take me along other top-ranked riding roads.  

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Near the highway’s northern beginning, the Triple Nickel Saloon has a sign out front asking everyone to “Look Out For Motorcycles.”

With both Chuck’s and my limitations, this three-wheeled cycle was meant for where I was heading. True, on a road meant for many to be a test of their riding talents, maybe riding the Triple Nickel wasn’t my wisest decision. There would be a learning curve, that I knew. But what better road was there to get the feel for the Spyder, to accelerate that learning curve, than where others went to challenge themselves. And for my Sunday ride, this highway, one of Ohio’s least traveled, was perfect.  

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
The Triple Nickel Diner is in Chesterhill, the prettiest of the small communities along the highway. Some who ride the highway consider dining there mandatory.

“While not the most technical course,” Wallace wrote, “the Triple Nickel’s combination of high-speed sweepers and tight, low-speed corners means there’s something for everyone.” Granted, the other 11 highways in his story may have offered something more unique, a view of the Pacific, or the northern tundra along the Top of the World Highway, or the relentless craziness of the Tail of the Dragon. Of the nine highways on the list I’d ridden, the Triple Nickel, with its twists and turns, may have more closely resembled Mulholland Drive in California. But as I rode on, there was no question that Ohio State Route 555 fit right in.  

This ride offered me the solitude I needed. This was a reawakening for me, a bridge from my past to a new future, to again feel the wind and see the road surface blurring beneath me. But respect for the highway was in order. The riding rules had changed. The undulating highway surface beneath me, not my natural sense of balance when on two wheels, set all of the rules. There was an initial element of uncertainty, with me in an unsettled place, somewhere between riding on two wheels and driving a car.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Words to live by, found at the Pleasant Hill M.E. Church Cemetery, the church founded in 1889 but long ago abandoned.

At one of my stops, local resident Tom Collins, who had seen me ride by and knew of this highway’s history all too well, summed up its danger in only one sentence, reminding me that, “For every mile of highway, there are two miles of ditches.” Riding buddy Mac Swinford added, “The 555, especially between Ringgold and Chesterhill, resembles a paved footpath constructed by a drunk who hated people.” 

Cannelville, then Deavertown and Portersville, were first in line, three tiny towns forgotten as soon as I rode beyond them, reminded of their names only by looking at my map. Then Chesterhill, a quaint and attractive community, and Bartlett, where you can find lunch if you know where to look. You can get gas just north of Chesterhill on Ohio Route 377, and in Bartlett a half mile to the east on Ohio 550, another great ride by the way, but nowhere else

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Judy Pletcher’s front porch message in Deavertown, something I had to stop and ask about. It was something she had seen and liked, and a gift from her daughter, Martha.
Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
Russell Pletcher, a Vietnam veteran, with one of his pride and joys, a ’64 Chevrolet Impala SS. Russell scored 15 points for the York Tigers basketball team in their February 12, 1965, 171-point record performance, a record that still stands today.

The highway draws you in, encompassing you in a unique way. Then all too suddenly, once after little Decaturville, then into Fillmore and near Little Hocking, the highway ends. One minute you’re on the highway, and then the next it’s over, finished. There’s not even a sign. Every time I ride this road there’s an immediate sense of disappointment, wishing there was more.

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
A new chapter opens for Chuck, from two wheels to three and now on four, where he can still feel the breeze against his face. He installed a GPS unit in his new golf cart to keep track of his speed, and naturally his miles driven. What else would you expect? Chuck’s race continues.

If it hadn’t been for my brother’s Spyder, I doubt I’d ever have ridden again. At 72 years of age, I might have simply allowed myself to leave behind the joy of riding I’ve known from before my adult years. Chuck sensed it too. He wanted me to ride toward a sunset he could no longer enjoy. There are always new highways, singular places we need to find, known and unknown to us. This day I was being introduced to the Spyder that would take me to many of them.  

This highway is worthy of its #1 ranking, with its endless array of ups and downs and arounds, where not long ago I might have stretched my limits. But that was not my purpose this first day on the Spyder. By the end of my ride, I knew Chuck’s trike a lot better. I knew after the Triple Nickel’s 63 miles it was something I could get used to. I should know better by the time the odometer rolls over 200,000 miles.  

Ride on! 

Riding Ohio's Triple Nickel
The Can-Am felt right at home. It had been here before. But for me, on my first Spyder ride, it was slower going, calling for caution and patience

The post Riding Ohio’s Triple Nickel first appeared on Rider Magazine.
Source: RiderMagazine.com

Parker Discovers America

Parker Discovers America
This feature was published in the August 2021 issue of Rider. (Photos by Eric Trow)

I was doing a valve adjustment on a vintage BMW at home in southwestern Pennsylvania as my then 13-year-old son Parker looked on. “You know, Park, 20 years ago I rode a bike like this one across the country.” Pause. “Maybe I should take a 20th anniversary ride to the West Coast and back.” Without hesitation, Parker replied, “Make it the 25th anniversary and I’ll go with you!”   

The thought of traveling across the country by motorcycle with my son was a fabulous notion. But, while such an adventure with Dad might seem fantastical to a kid, surely new priorities would squeeze out this plan by the time he turned 18. Yet, Parker continued to research the trip, propose routes, and suggest must-see attractions. We pored over maps and travel books. We read Blue Highways – him for the first time and me for the third – about the wonders of traveling America’s two-lane highways. This whimsical idea was evolving from abstract to absolute. 

Parker Discovers America
After five years of planning, father and son are ready to embark on their epic journey to discover America.

Click here to view the REVER map of Eric and Parker’s route

We still had his mother to convince. I reassured her Parker would first get the requisite training and emphasized how this trip would allow the boy to develop his skills while under my constant observation. I would avoid setting firm daily destinations and, instead, we would stop when we got tired. Or sooner. We would send her updates from the road, and she could track our progress through the Spot satellite tracker software. Disapprovingly, she gave her approval. 

Parker Discovers America
Parker kept a journal to document the experience. It began on the first night of our journey after we set up camp in Indiana.
Parker Discovers America
After three days riding across the Great Plains, the mountains were a welcome sight.

After years of preparation, the faraway date arrived. Family, friends, and a couple neighbors I don’t think I’d ever met gathered to give us a proper send-off. Parker and I slipped the bikes – him on a Triumph Bonneville Thunderbird and me on a BMW R 1150 R, both heavily laden with luggage – into gear and eased onto the road, leaving family and friends waving in the mirrors. The made-for-TV moment was made a little less dramatic when I had to ride back for my wallet, but it was still pretty cool. 

Parker Discovers America
Eric and Parker Trow, as they cross into Colorado.
Parker Discovers America
Blue highways took us through small-town America.

Escaping the familiar landscape of Pittsburgh, we picked up U.S. Route 50 west heading into unknown territories for Parker. After nagging technology issues, we abandoned the bike-to-bike radio comms and went old-school. Although we were traveling just a few bike lengths apart, we would experience the road individually. Later, when we stopped for gas or food, or at the end of the day, we would recall what we saw and thought about. I’d nearly forgotten how special such conversations can be. It was satisfying to see how much Parker was enjoying the experience and connecting with the magic of back roads and small-town America. 

Parker Discovers America
We always though of West Virginia as “almost heaven.” Colorado provides some tough competition for that claim.

A pivotal moment was when we stopped in historic Madison, Indiana, for a bite. As we strolled the sidewalk in search of a coffee shop, an older gentleman approached from the opposite direction. “Good morning!” he said joyfully. It was a standard social exchange except for one thing: instead of continuing to walk on by after the polite acknowledgement, the man stopped. We stopped. And right there, we began an impromptu conversation. 

Parker Discovers America
Silhouetted cowboys on horseback welcomed Eric and Parker to Dodge City, Kansas.

I think the scene threw Parker off for a moment, but he quickly embraced it. The man asked about our journey and listened with interest. He told us about his town and his life there. And, as we paused to engage with each other, strangers became acquaintances. The gentleman undoubtedly went on to tell others the story of the father-and-son two-wheel travelers he’d met, and Parker and I have shared the story of this kind and interesting man as well. This is the small-town friendliness and hospitality I was drawn to as a young solo traveler, and it was wonderful to see Parker discovering it as well.

Parker Discovers America
Carrying a tremendous sense of responsibility, I devoted a good bit of my attention to making sure all was well with Parker behind me.
Parker Discovers America
In each town we would eat local and order what the locals ate. In Syracuse, Kansas, the favorite was lengua tacos. That’s cow tongue, for the unfamiliar.

That brings to mind another encounter. A man on his riding mower waved enthusiastically to Parker and me from his front yard as we rode by. We waved back with matched enthusiasm. About a mile ahead, Parker and I made a U-turn, deciding to circle back to explore an interesting store we’d passed. As we rode back by the mowing man, he was waving just as fervently as before. We waved again. Following our store visit, we traveled past the man and his mower for a third time. Sure enough, his arm was high in the air. That’s when Parker and I realized our new friend was a mannequin that had been placed on the riding mower, its arm propped in a permanent welcoming wave to passersby. 

Parker Discovers America
We waved to this guy each of the three times we passed by the property. By the third time we recognized it was a mannequin placed to welcome travelers.

I’d ridden the interstate through Missouri and Kansas in the past and have little to recall – the super slab isolates travelers from the local culture. Parker and I rode into the heartland instead of past it. No rest-stop plazas for us; we visited family-owned restaurants and sampled the local flavors, like lengua (tongue) tacos at El Rancho in Syracuse, Kansas.  

Traveling across the endless Great Plains gives one abundant time to think. Or get mischievous. Recognizing it was time to update Parker’s mother, we paused to take photos of each other performing “stunts,” including standing on the seat and riding without hands on the controls. We texted her the pictures with greetings from Kansas. In reality, the bikes were parked securely on their centerstands at the shoulder of the road, but the camera cropped out that little detail. Mom was not as amused as we were.  

Parker Discovers America
Kansas left us abundant time to be creative. We posed for pictures to send as travel updates to Parker’s mother. For the record, the bike was parked on its centerstand along the shoulder of the road.
Parker Discovers America
When the landscape goes unchanged for hours, one gets silly ideas when something fresh and different pops up.
Parker Discovers America

Eventually, the Rocky Mountains rose before us, and Parker had an opportunity to apply his training as we took to the demanding mountain passes of Colorado. I threw in a favorite 36-mile scenic dirt stretch known as Colorado River Road to show Parker the joys that can be found down a dirt road and to build his confidence riding unpaved surfaces on a loaded streetbike. We went on to conquer Independence Pass and, from there, got every penny out of the Million Dollar Highway, as we negotiated its daunting twists, turns, and drop-offs in the rain.

Parker Discovers America
Out West, dark skies like this can linger for hours and present the rider with intense weather and tough decisions.

Just beyond Four Corners (the juncture of Arizona, Utah, Colorado, and New Mexico) an ominous black cloud loomed overhead. Afternoon Western storms can be severe and sometimes move slowly, an  d, in this open territory, there is no place to duck for cover. I knew such storms were often isolated and this one appeared to be small, so with just one path available to get us to where we needed to go, we leaned toward the darkness and into an intense, blinding downpour. We emerged just a couple minutes later into sunny skies. I pulled over to make sure Parker was okay and to talk about the experience. He asked if I’d seen the other rider who had pulled over in the downpour to wait it out. With such a slow-moving storm, the guy was likely to get pelted for another hour or more.  

Parker Discovers America
They call it the Great American Desert. Yet this little patch is the only sand we saw.

Our path took us to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon and then over to America’s Mother Road, old U.S. Route 66. We wheeled into Seligman, Arizona,  as night fell where an abundance of neon signs and classic American roadside attractions were abuzz. The next day, our kicks continued on Route 66 over to Kingman. Thinking Parker would enjoy seeing Las Vegas, we detoured north. 

Unfortunately, my gamble on Vegas was a bust. Bumper-to-bumper traffic on the Strip plus 110-degree heat dealt us a bad hand. With no air movement, the heat inside our riding gear was unbearable. My air-cooled BMW’s valves rattled in protest each time I twisted the throttle. It wanted out, Parker wanted out, and I was more than willing to oblige. Without exploring a single casino, we fought our way back to the desert highway. We had taken a four-hour detour just to sit in Vegas traffic in sweltering heat. That’s when I learned just how much my son dislikes being hot.  

Parker Discovers America
After days of straightline riding across the Plains, the curves and elevation were a welcome sight.

It was 114 degrees in the desert. At 70 mph I opened my faceshield to get some relief from the heat inside my helmet only to meet a blast furnace of even hotter air. At a stop, I paid a fortune for two large bottles of water. After drinking a couple swigs of mine, I poured the rest onto my shirt to soak it down for evaporative cooling. Good idea had I not been wearing a moisture-wicking shirt. The water sluiced off the shirt and onto the hot pavement where it evaporated instantly. Parker laughed, and that was all it took to lighten the mood.

Parker Discovers America
Years ago I had taken the same photo with my brother when I arrived in California. I was thrilled to emulate the pic with my son 25 years later.

In contrast to the open desert highway, we went on to navigate the frenzied L.A. freeways and then we surfed the rad canyons of the Santa Monica Mountains above Malibu, ultimately winding our way back to U.S. Route 101. A right turn and we were tracing the coastline northward. 

One night, with limited lodging options along a remote stretch of Highway 1 and daylight gone, we set up camp in the pitch blackness at a roadside pull-off. We could hear the ocean, so it must have been a prime spot. Come daylight, we found we’d pitched our tent less than 10 feet from the edge of a sheer cliff with a hundred-foot drop to the rocks below. Thankfully, neither of us stepped out to relieve ourselves in the middle of the night. 

Parker Discovers America
We set up camp in the blackness of night. By morning we realized we’d pitched our tent less than 10 feet from a cliff high above the rocky ocean shore.

We stumbled upon Laguna Seca Raceway in Monterey and watched vintage sports cars practicing for the weekend’s races. We had the best eggs benedict breakfast ever in Carmel (Katy’s Place), rode on to San Francisco, did the Golden Gate Bridge thing, and then worked our way east away from the hustle and bustle into the serenity of the Eldorado National Forest and Lake Tahoe region. We’d seen countless small towns by this point, but none as small as Kyburz. A sign outside an old hotel read, “Welcome to Kyburz. Now leaving Kyburz.”  

From Reno, we ventured onto “The Loneliest Road in America,” the endless stretch of U.S. Route 50 extending forward to the ends of the earth. No traffic. No animals. No gas stations – a disconcerting notion when the fuel light comes on and there is no sign of civilization for miles ahead and at least 120 miles to the rear.

Parker Discovers America
With no vehicles or people for miles in any direction, U.S. Route 50 through Nevada is aptly named The Loneliest Road in America.

Some 400 miles later, the wide-open nothingness eventually transitioned to the otherworldly landscape of Utah as we rode State Route 24 to Hanksville, where we established camp. A friendly dog warmed up to Parker and followed him everywhere he went, even tailing our bikes for a quarter-mile as we rolled out the next morning toward Moab.  

Paralleling Interstate 70 on the more relaxed U.S. Route 6 back through Colorado was our blue highway choice. It’s amazing how different the experience is even a hundred yards off the interstate. We then crossed I-70, took a few more mountain passes to the north, and rose to 12,000 feet at Rocky Mountain National Park, ultimately wrapping the day in Cheyenne, Wyoming.  

Parker Discovers America
From the moment they arrived at the campground in Hanksville, Utah, a dog attached itself to Parker and followed him everywhere he went.
Parker Discovers America
This is what 700 miles on I-80 can do to you. And all he could recall seeing were trucks, cornfields, and rest stops. It was a sharp contrast to the sensory-rich experience of America’s back roads.

The casual travel and spontaneous side trips made for an unforgettable experience, but the time window of our journey was closing. Somewhere around Ogallala, Nebraska, we shifted from lazy blue highways to the frenzied Interstate 80 for the return stretch across Iowa, Illinois, and points east. Although we logged more than 700 miles one particular day, when asked what he saw throughout that day’s ride, Parker could only list cars, cornfields, and truck stops. A sharp contrast to the sensory-rich secondary roads we’d been enjoying previously.

In one giant protracted real-world riding session, Parker discovered an America unknown to many. An America that is still kind, compassionate, welcoming, and helpful. He also discovered more about himself, his values, and his character. As a traveler, Parker discovered how to handle a wide variety of riding and weather conditions and successfully navigate a traveler’s challenges. The experience made him an infinitely better rider, a more passionate traveler, and a true lover of small-town America.   

Parker Discovers America
Heading into Arches National Park.

Over our roughly 9,000-mile ride, we also learned a great deal about each other. We bonded over discovery and adventure. When we weren’t talking about bikes or travel, we talked about life. We discovered new aspects of each other and grew our mutual respect. Motorcycles have a way of bringing people closer – even those who are already quite close.

Parker’s Perspective

A month on the road with your dad isn’t what most 18-year-olds have in mind for the gap between high school and adult life, but for me this was like a second graduation. It was the nod from my dad that I was ready to dive into the unknown. It was a sign of trust, but also an invitation to share in a lifelong passion. A welcoming to the club of discovery and the joys of no set plans, time for reflection, and seeing how much diversity this country has to offer while simultaneously learning what ties us all together.

Parker Discovers America
A little dampness couldn’t dampen the spirits of riders discovering incredible new terrain and spectacular vistas.

There’s no way I could have known at age 13 that a few weeks after graduating high school was the perfect time for a trip like this. At the intersection of “my house, my rules” and total freedom was an opportunity to force a perspective shift. To reflect on who I wanted to become as an adult. To evolve my relationship with my dad. To put into perspective the sheer scale of this country I’d lived in for 18 years but had yet to experience. And to challenge myself, testing newly learned skills, and building my confidence to move from the passenger seat to the saddle, in more ways than one. 

Over the course of this trip, I finished reading Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, a classic book about a father-and-son motorcycle journey. I was incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to do a trip like this and am grateful that my dad had the gumption to follow through and make it all happen. I had no clue the impact this trip would have on me as a rider, a son, and a person. Fourteen years later, Dad and I could still spend all day talking about the things we experienced together on this trip – leaving enough time, of course, to plan where we will go next. — Parker Trow

The post Parker Discovers America first appeared on Rider Magazine.
Source: RiderMagazine.com

2022 Kawasaki KLR650 | Top 10 Review

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
Riding the new Kawasaki KLR650 Adventure in New Mexico. (Photos by Drew Ruiz)

I just spent the last five days riding over 1,000 miles on Kawasaki’s legendary dual-sport icon, the KLR650, newly updated for 2022. Our on- and off-road journey started at the RFD-TV Ranch, located about 100 miles east of Albuquerque, and spent two days riding through New Mexico’s stunning forests and mountains, including rocky passes, sandy gulches, and a nerve-testing silt track. 

No assessment of the KLR would be complete without loading it up with camping gear, as many of its potential owners will do, and heading off into the wilderness. On the morning of the third day, I set my sights west toward Los Angeles, enduring a huge thunderstorm on the Arizona border and 120-degree temperatures in the sprawling Mojave Desert, the details of which will follow in our upcoming road test review. To whet your appetite, I’m sharing the top ten highlights of the 2022 KLR650.

First released in 1987, the KLR was cutting edge for its time. Its single-cylinder engine had four valves. It came fitted with a 5-speed transmission and a front disc brake. The KLR received its only major update in 2008, followed by a minor update in 2014, and was anything but cutting edge, which remains true of the latest model. However, it has received some significant improvements without altering the core attributes that have earned the KLR a reputation for reliable, durable, and cost-effective travel.

1. Electronic Fuel Injection

While some of the KLR’s faithful fans will lament the passing of the Keihin carburetor, even they will appreciate the reliable thump following every push of the starter button. We tested the new KLR at 8,000 feet in New Mexico’s mountains, and at just 400 feet in the searing heat of the Mojave Desert bowl, and the single came to life with ease every time. A cutting-edge fuel atomizer also ensures you get the best bang for the gallon, and Kawasaki claims increased low-end torque. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The single cylinder engine is now equipped with EFI.

2. Upgraded Brakes Including ABS 

The 2022 KLR650 now includes ABS as a factory-installed option, and at $300, a great many will choose to include it. We tested the KLR with and without the ABS to compare braking in on- and off-road conditions. The setup works very well, and although it was difficult to detect its intervention on the ABS-equipped model, I noticed its absence in the dirt on the non-ABS model. Happily, I was still able to lock up the rear wheel on the dirt when I wanted to. The front disc is now 300mm, 20mm larger than the outgoing model, and provides a much-needed improvement in stopping power. The rear disc is now thicker, and less prone to fading.  

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The front disc is 20mm larger.
2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The rear disc is thicker and less prone to fade.

3. Increased Load Capacity 

By making the subframe an integrated member of the main frame, Kawasaki has increased the KLR’s torsional rigidity and load capacity, which is also managed by a slightly longer swingarm. These updates result in improved stability and make for more predictable handling on loose surfaces, especially when the bike is loaded with gear.  

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The subframe is now integrated with the main frame for increased stability and load capacity. (Photo by the author)

4. Adjustable Rear Suspension 

The rear suspension now includes five clicks of adjustable preload and stepless rebound damping, which is adjusted via a screw. On a middleweight adventure bike like the KLR, this is a welcome addition, as many owners will want to take it on serious tours, which require loading a considerable amount of kit. For the two nights I spent camping, I had loaded about 70 pounds on the KLR, keeping the heavier gear in the side bags. After adding a click of preload and a full turn of rebound, the resulting handling felt impressively similar to the unloaded KLR. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
Adjustable damping and preload for the rear suspension is a welcome addition.

5. Adjustable Windscreen 

The new windscreen is 2 inches taller than the old model and is now adjustable. The standard low position provides good wind deflection, even for loftier riders. For longer tours, to reduce fatigue or combat cold conditions, the windscreen can be adjusted by removing the four attaching screws and remounting it another inch higher. Nonetheless, it is still a sport-sized windscreen and it offered little respite from a drenching thunderstorm I encountered in the Gila National Forest in New Mexico.

2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review
The new windscreen is taller, and can also be adjusted (shown here on the Adventure model, which is also equipped with auxiliary lights).

6. Battery and Generator 

The new KLR has an upgraded battery that’s fully sealed, low maintenance, and smaller and lighter than the old one. To complement the battery, and to power a new line of accessories and charging ports, the KLR has also been equipped with a new 28-amp generator.

2022 Kawasaki KLR 650
The Adventure model we tested comes with factory installed auxiliary lights.

7. Accessories Bar and Electrical Ports

It may seem like a minor item to include in the top-ten list, but we think the nifty accessories bar that Kawasaki has included on the new KLR is a great addition and should be a standard on adventure bikes. Rather than load up your handlebars with phone, GPS, and camera mounts, and all the associated wiring, these can be easily mounted on the accessories bar, and powered via the available USB or standard DC 12-volt power socket. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review
An accessories bar adds practicality.
2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review
A 12V DC socket is now standard.
2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review
A USB socket has also been fitted.

8. Stronger Load-Bearing Points 

The key points supporting the KLR’s suspended weight have all been strengthened. Both front- and rear-wheel axle diameters have been increased, now 2mm and 3mm thicker, respectively. The rear swingarm pivot has also received a 2mm upgrade and adds to the KLR’s long-term dependability and ability to handle the increased load capacity and overall weight. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR 650 | Top 10 Review
The base model, shown here in Pearl Khaki.

9. Bodywork and Styling 

All new cowling and more aggressive styling subtly improve the new KLR’s overall appearance. The 2022 model retains the old shape, but is a little more angular, and looks somewhat taller. The base model is complemented by a Traveler and Adventure model, and the latter comes equipped with engine guards and cowling guards, adding to its rugged, off-road credentials. The base and Traveler model is available in Pearl Lava Orange or Pearl Sand Khaki colorways, and the Adventure comes in Cypher Camo Gray. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The Traveler model in Pearl Lava Orange.

10. Digital Display 

The 2022 KLR has a new all-digital LCD. Now larger and backlit, the new instrument is easier to read and works well in all lighting conditions. The information is still limited to the basics, but that is what the KLR is all about. A digital speedometer, odometer, dual trip meters, clock, and finally, a proper fuel gauge. 

2022 Kawasaki KLR650
The new LCD instrument panel is larger and includes a proper fuel gauge.

The post 2022 Kawasaki KLR650 | Top 10 Review first appeared on Rider Magazine.
Source: RiderMagazine.com

Favorite Ride: Lapping the Appalachians

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
Father and son on the the Tail of the Dragon, Tennessee. (Above photo by 129photos.com; other photos by the author)

Dad’s first sojourn through the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, and West Virginia needed to be grand. Dad is a desert dweller from southern Arizona and has never ridden east of Texas. We agreed on a short list of must-haves: Blue Ridge Parkway, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and Tail of the Dragon. Everything else – the fall foliage, the swollen creeks and runs, the rural country roads, the morning fog – would be an added bonus.

There would also be pancakes. Lots of pancakes.

We picked up Dad’s Triumph Tiger Explorer at a motorcycle dealership in northern Virginia, where he had it shipped from Arizona. We rode south and entered the Blue Ridge Parkway west  of Lynchburg. The parkway is aptly named, with smooth, graceful curves, well-manicured roadsides, and plenty of parking areas to admire the view. A word to the wise, as I learned as point man: pay attention to mile markers. I missed the country road that the kind ladies at Explore Park said would lead us to Mount Airy, North Carolina, our first stop for the night and the birthplace of actor Andy Griffith.

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
Lush valleys provide a stunning backdrop to the Blue Ridge Parkway, Virginia.

Dad’s Explorer has heated grips and a larger fairing than my Triumph Sprint GT, so he was better prepared for the chilly 40-degree temperatures during our ride. For most of the morning, we enjoyed relative seclusion, clear skies, autumn colors, and beautiful farm country. In one short span, the view of the valley below on my left was stolen by a patch of trees and granite outcroppings only to be returned over my right shoulder. It was a literal tennis match of competing landscapes – valleys of farm country on one side and ridgelines stretching to the horizon on the other.

Traffic increased the farther south we traveled, and overflowing pullouts often prevented us from stopping, so, we leaned back and enjoyed the ride. We left the parkway at Asheville, having decided on Maggie Valley for our overnight stay.

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
The author’s father posing with their motorcycles on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

A steady downpour and tornado warnings nixed riding the second day, so we covered the bikes and took a taxi to Wheels Through Time. While walking through the museum – home to more than 300 interesting and rare motorcycles – Dad shared stories of his older brother’s 1950 Harley Panhead and their shenanigans on it back on the farm in Iowa. One involved the bike, loaded with three riders, being chased by a dog that gave up the hunt after my uncle retarded the spark for a spectacular backfire. Dad hunted the base of many a cylinder barrel, searching for a stamp that would identify the same year as his brother’s, but to no avail.

Tourist traffic in the lush Great Smoky Mountains National Park slowed our progress. We found a place to park the bikes at Newfound Gap, a 5,049-foot pass on U.S. Route 441, allowing us to stretch our legs. Traffic in the park paled in comparison to the carnival of tourism we saw in Gatlinburg, where we found the Little House of Pancakes.

Dad tucked into a stack of blueberry pancakes, and I gorged on sweet-and-spicy apple pancakes. Between bites – and doing our best not to drip syrup on our map – we sketched out an alternate route back to Maggie Valley. We tested our pioneering skills on Tennessee State Route 32 in search of secluded switchbacks. Any concern about traffic was dispelled by a large red diamond-shaped sign that warned “Do Not Enter, Your GPS is Wrong” a few miles into the alternate route.

Littered with wet leaves and twigs from the previous day’s storms, Route 32’s pucker factor was off the scale, especially when I felt the front wheel push over some wet leaves at the apex of a turn. I rarely engaged 3rd gear after that. Pavement turned to hard gravel at Davenport Gap, where we crossed back into North Carolina on Mount Sterling Road. We found blacktop again at Waterville Road along Big Creek, and after a few miles, under cavernous trees and crags, we came upon Interstate 40 and our path back to Maggie Valley.

Compared to Route 32, the Tail of the Dragon’s 318 curves in 11 miles were not as technical, nor as precarious. The roads in this part of Tennessee, which arc around the southern side of Great Smoky Mountains National Park, plunge into valleys, rise to bluffs overlooking man-made lakes and hydroelectric dams, and hug the steep sides of tree-blanketed mountains. After a full day of Appalachian curves, we stopped for the night in Middlesboro, Kentucky, just a stone’s throw west of Cumberland Gap.

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
Another sweeping view along the Blue Ridge Parkway.

With our bellies full of pancakes, we rode east on U.S. Route 58 through southwestern Virginia under crisp, blue autumn skies, with ridgelines on our left marking the border with Kentucky. We continued northeast on U.S. Route 19 for our next overnight in Princeton, West Virginia, and we awoke the next morning to find frost on our bikes. Despite the cold, the scenery from Princeton to Elkins on U.S. Route 219 was a moving feast of fields, pastures, valleys, woodland, creeks, rivers, and quaint towns.

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
This route map is available on the REVER app in the Rider Magazine community.

Link to Appalachian tour route on REVER

A section of U.S. 219 we traveled along is known as Seneca Trail. A pleasant surprise around one bend was Indian Creek Covered Bridge, which was completed in 1903 at a cost of $400. The rest of the morning was spent passing farm after farm, including writer Pearl S. Buck’s birthplace in Hillsboro, West Virginia. For pancakes, we recommend Greenbrier Grille and Lodge, overlooking its namesake river in Marlinton.

Our last day involved riding from valley to ridge to valley. We followed curves along various creeks and branches of the Potomac River that snaked their way through the Appalachians. Eventually we had to leave the winding roads behind and hop on Interstate 66 to complete our multi-day loop. For Dad’s first ride east of the Mississippi, he was proud to see his tripmeter roll over 1,504 memorable miles.

A Father and Son Tour the Appalachians
The Indian Creek Covered Bridge on West Virginia Route 219.

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Source: RiderMagazine.com

Highway 61 Remastered: Riding Along Minnesota’s North Shore

Rider Minnesota North Shore Lake Superior
The North Shore of Minnesota may look all pretty. But don’t let it fool you. Billions of years of violence sculpted this land. (Photos by the author and Sahlee Grace Kotoski)

If you go when the snowflakes storm
When the rivers freeze and summer ends
Please see if she’s wearing a coat so warm
To keep her from the howlin’ winds

— Bob Dylan, “Girl from the North Country”

I had forgotten about that feeling of violence that rises up through the ancient volcanic rock of Minnesota’s North Shore, where Highway 61 carves a thin rivulet of asphalt against a dead mountain range that descends into deep, dangerous water.

Rider Minnesota North Shore REVER map

REVER Route — MN North Shore: Duluth to Gunflint Trail via Highway 61

The sun had yet to rise. The air was cold but there was no frost. Cars with bright lights and loud trucks with loads of lumber cut through the darkness on their way to the Canadian border. My mind wandered, from Bob Dylan’s youth to the geologic time scale to the warm, soft bed my wife and I had just left.

My wife was huddled, bundled tight, hiding from the wind in a wave-carved basalt pocket. Besides a flashlight and the burning ember of my Newport, it was completely dark. Slowly the sun rose, turning purple, red, orange, and finally yellow. The lake turned blue again, and behind the lodge, the forest that covered the mountain came alive with color. It had been over 10 years since I had looked clear to the horizon over Lake Superior.

“It’s hard to believe this place is real,” Sahlee said.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited
Regal riding on the Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited.

We were on the third day of a four-day motorcycle trip along Lake Superior to capture the peak autumnal colors before the heavy Minnesotan winter tightened its grip. And it was our first long ride together in many years. We started our journey at St. Paul Harley-Davidson, where we borrowed an Ultra Limited in Vivid Black — a beast of a machine in both weight and power, a 900-pound workhorse designed for regal riding. It turned heads, and with a 114ci Milwaukee-Eight V-twin, it chewed up miles without hesitation.

We had checked into the historic Cascade Lodge, located between Lutsen and Grand Marais — a ski resort and a bohemian art enclave, respectively — shortly before dark the night before, following a 100-mile brisk ride north from Duluth. The lodge was established in 1927 to serve affluent Duluthians and wealthy socialites. Profiting from fishing, forestry, mining, and trade along the Great Lakes, some had predicted that Duluth would rival Chicago. F. Scott Fitzgerald, a Minnesota native, would have fit in well there. Thom McAleer, who has run the Cascade Lodge with his wife since 2017, said business was good year-round, with plenty of motorcyclists in summer and snowmobilers in winter.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Cascade Lodge
The historic Cascade Lodge catered to the wealthy and elite during the early 1900s, now it welcomes motorcyclists and snowmobilers.

The geology of Lake Superior has always fascinated me. It is a history of violence that can still be felt today. Long before human barnacles — from the ghostly-white Scandinavians to the soiled French fur trappers on down to the spirits that guided the Ojibwe — clung to life on this rocky, inhospitable shore, billions of years of primeval and powerful forces created, shaped and sculpted what we see today: the world’s largest freshwater lake that has claimed thousands of mariners’ lives and at least 550 ships, including the Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank in 1975. 

As we rode into Grand Marais (French for “big swamp”), we followed advice we received the day prior from Andy Goldfine, founder of the legendary riding apparel company Aerostich, and scanned the sky, hoping to see a congregation of seagulls darting at a skiff loaded with fresh herring.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Andy Goldfine Aerostich
The wise and wonderful Andy Goldfine at the Aerostich factory in Duluth, where Roadcrafter suits are made.

“If you sneak behind the Angry Trout Cafe, you can find fishermen cutting up the day’s catch, and freeze packing them to be sent to a rabbi in Chicago to make them kosher,” Goldfine told us.

When we met Goldfine the day before at his factory in west Duluth, we were greeted by a short, thoughtful, balding, and bespectacled man. Andy and I commiserated over our time at the University of Duluth, albeit decades apart, him with his philosophy major and English minor, and me with the exact opposite. As our conversation moved from topic to topic, from technology and its effects on society (good and bad), to the absurdity of the global fashion industry as satirized in the movie “Zoolander,” to the history of Duluth’s post-WWII economy, to global trade and how America has become a consumerism-driven throw-away society and finally trends in motorcycling, it became clear that Goldfine was not just an inventor, but a sage.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Highway 61
The road along the North Shore has few curves, but the scenery is beautiful.

He started Aerostich in 1983, when Duluth was in an economic recession and on the verge of becoming another hollowed-out Rustbelt town. U.S. Steel closed its coke plant in 1979. A decade prior the Air Force shuttered the base that housed the 11th Fighter-Interceptor Squadron, a secretive Cold War defense outpost that housed 2,500 to 3,500 servicemen tasked with aircrafts that would be deployed in the event of a Soviet invasion.

When I was living in Duluth 16 years ago, the west side of town was rundown and largely abandoned. Tourism, college kids with bar money, and gentrification have revived the area, with craftspeople, brewers, and restaurateurs operating in clean, modern industrial spaces like you’d find in Brooklyn. Goldfine observed all of the changes to this historic part of town. What hasn’t changed is his philosophy regarding Aerostich’s Roadcrafter suits, which have been an integral part of the riding community for decades.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited
With leaves past their fall peak, winter is coming.

“Our customers are everyday riders because Aerostich makes equipment. Just like a farmer’s overalls, a carpenter’s pants, a lawyer’s or banker’s suit, it is the equipment that these professions invest in, not fashion,” Goldfine said. “Our logic is that our products are sacrificial. [A Roadcrafter] keeps you safe from the elements, and say you crash going 60 and you are okay, it did its job.”

We toured Goldfine’s factory, met with his tailors, and checked out his waterproofing testing equipment and impact armor fabrication set-up. When we left, he wished us a happy marriage and I felt better knowing that guys like Andy Goldfine are so dedicated to their craft.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Lake Superior
Sunrise along the North Shore somewhere south of Grand Marais.

From Grand Marais, we rode north and then northwest, 15 or so miles up the beautiful Gunflint Trail Scenic Byway that, further north, terminates at the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness — a 150-mile stretch of hard-to-reach pristine lakes along the U.S./Canada border that skirts the Laurentian Divide, which separates water flow from either going down to the Gulf of Mexico or up to Hudson Bay. Starting in the 1600s, voyageurs would make a special stop here to collect flint from chert deposits for their rifles.

A loaded lumber truck with two blown-out wheels partially blocked our path up the Gunflint, so we turned around and returned to the lake, thundering down the road on the mighty Ultra Limited as a kaleidoscope of fall colors became a blur.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Split Rock Lighthouse
A 1905 storm that wrecked 30 ships prompted the construction of Split Rock Lighthouse. (Photo by John Steitz)

“The Lake Superior Basin … sits dead center over an ancient rift [that] was active 1.1 billion years ago when Minnesota was really the center of the North American continent,” wrote geologist Ron Morton, in his 2011 book A Road Guide: The North Shore of Lake Superior on Highway 61. “Hot molten magma rose upward from deep within the earth, and as it approached the surface, it caused the crust to arch or bow upward, and then split like an overcooked sausage,” he added. A heavy, miles-deep pancake of basalt lava spread across the region, with larger eruptions piling pyroclastic rocks around the edges of what today is the rugged Lake Superior shoreline. When the volcanic activity stopped, the weight of the lava started to sink the earth.

Rider Minnesota North Shore
Morning coffee at a rustic family cabin.

But long before that, a massive mountain range — larger than the Alps or Rockies today — had formed. As the mountain range eroded over eons, the sinking basin filled with sediment, creating a swampy plain. Then came what’s known as the Last Glacial Period, starting a mere 115,000 years ago. Thick sheets of ice covered the land and pushed southward, violently scooping out the basin like excavators. The earth warmed, the glaciers melted and a lake was formed — the world’s largest in terms of area, third-largest in terms of volume. Geologic instability causes the south and southwestern sides of Lake Superior to rise a few centimeters each year, raising the waterline on the Canadian side.

From Grand Marais, we drove up to the Lutsen Mountains Ski and Summer Resort, where we paid $24 each to take the gondola up to the summit for impressive and expansive views of the landscape. From a western outlook hundreds of feet above the valley floor, the trees were dead brown and red, a couple of days past peak, while to the east, yellows, oranges, and reds mingled with the green, winter-hardened conifers.

Rider Minnesota North Shore Palisade Head
The rhyolitic red rock of Palisade Head and the Tettegouche area is the legacy of ancient lava flows over 1.1 billion years ago.

Our final sightseeing stop was Tettegouche State Park to see Palisade Head, a large rock formation with staggering 300-foot sheer cliffs that end in a jumble of jagged rocks along the shore. I remember coming here when I was in college. The wind would whip so hard it felt as if it would blow you right off the cliff edge, creating a mix of fear and excitement. Palisade Head and I have both aged. It looks and feels the same. Can’t say the same about myself.

Biting cold wind meant that Old Man Winter would arrive soon. Time to get back down to St. Paul to return the Harley and hunker down.

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Source: RiderMagazine.com

Edelweiss Bike Travel Survey: Chance to Win Norway Tour

Edelweiss Bike Travel Norway Touring Center

Edelweiss Bike Travel is conducting an anonymous online survey about motorcycling travel and touring in 2021 and beyond. The survey takes only about 5 minutes to complete.

At the end of the survey participants can enter a raffle that includes one spot on Edelweiss Bike Travel’s Norway Touring Center including motorcycle rental, or one of 5 travel vouchers worth 250 Euro each.

Click the link below to access the survey:
https://de.surveymonkey.com/r/33BYFH5

For those who are interested in Edelweiss Bike Travel motorcycle tours, which take place all around the world, check out dates, locations, pricing and more at edelweissbike.com.

Rider Magazine has teamed up with Edelweiss Bike Travel for a special “Best of Greece” tour, October 10-23, 2021. For more information, click HERE.

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Source: RiderMagazine.com

Favorite Ride: Space Coast to the Smokies

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
The morning sunrise on the Intracoastal Waterway. Palm Bay, Florida. Photos by Randy Norton.

You really couldn’t tell that it was the first day of fall in Palm Bay, Florida. The forecast called for lots of sun and 90 degrees. With a beautiful sunrise to my right, I headed north on I-95 toward Daytona Beach on the Harley-Davidson Road King, planning to meet my old friend Bob in Robbinsville, North Carolina the next day. He was riding down from Ohio on his TriGlide. After that it would be Smokey Mountain touring for a few days. 

Leaving I-95 I exited on West Granada Boulevard and headed east to Florida State Road A1A. I was looking forward to a beautiful cruise along the ocean and was not disappointed. Between Ormond Beach and Flagler Beach I stopped at an interesting historical site — a coastal watchtower from WWII used by spotters to monitor German U-boat activity and watch for enemy aircraft. More than 15,000 of these towers were erected along the U.S. coastline after the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies

I continued to cruise north on coastal FSR A1A until I rolled into St. Augustine over the Bridge of Lions. The historic lighthouse in the USA’s oldest town came into view and made for a great place to take five. Still a working lighthouse with a museum on the grounds, many structures like it in St. Augustine are reputed to be haunted, but the only spirit I was interested in was a cold beer at the end of my riding day. So, I crossed back over the Tolomato River as soon as I could to pick up coastal FSR A1A and rode on to Jacksonville.

Heading west on Beach Blvd., I left the ocean behind and grabbed the I-295 Loop to avoid downtown Jacksonville. Exiting on U.S. Route 23 I aimed for Callahan, Florida, a much needed break and a fuel stop, looking forward to passing through small towns and riding through the countryside.

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
North of Folkston, Georgia you will find the Okefenokee Swamp Park.

Crossing the Florida/Georgia border, soon I was in Folkston, and more than one sign reminded me that this is the gateway to the Okefenokee Swamp. After a bite I continued north on Route 23 through Waycross, cruising country roads past classic old farms, red dirt side roads, cotton fields, old barns and even Vidalia, home of those famous sweet onions! Holding to Georgia Route 15 brought me to Sandersville, Georgia, and a Quality Inn on the main drag.

Early on Sunday morning I kept rolling on 15 through Georgia. Sparta is a classic old southern town founded in 1795 that is full of historic buildings and sits in the heart of old plantation country. I stopped at Monument Square, where the courthouse dates back to 1882, then pushing on and ever northward I rolled through the Oconee National Forest and skirted around Athens on the U.S. Route 441 Loop.

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
I was naturally drawn to all of the Harley displays but this whole place is amazing.

Finishing off Georgia on Route 23, soon I had the North Carolina Mountains on the horizon. It was an easy decision to drift up to Cherokee before riding west to Robbinsville to meet my friend Bob. Early Sunday evening I pulled into the Phillips Motel, our home base for the next three nights, a clean and comfortable spot with covered parking for our machines. 

Up before the sun, we took a warm-up ride south of town before leaving on our much-anticipated ride to Maggie Valley and the Wheels Through Time Museum. I was scouting photo ops and enjoying the cool mountain air when a big bird flying way too low came out of the trees. Just before I ducked, I saw the owl’s two large eyes, a beak and lots of feathers, and heard him bump my windshield. Luckily for both us it wasn’t a solid hit, and we both went on our way….

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
A post WWII motorcycle shop is replicated in this Wheels Through Time Display.

After breakfast at Southern Gals Restaurant, we were off to Maggie Valley, riding North Carolina Highway 143 and hooking up with U.S. Route 19. The beautiful mountain roads led us to Dale Walksler’s Wheels Through Time Museum. If you dig vintage bikes and automobiles this place is a must see. The friendly staff has a wealth of information that they are more than happy to share. The museum staff steered us to Pop’s Place for lunch. My Road King was gaining miles, I was gaining weight!

Our Tuesday plan was to ride the Cherohala Skyway Loop. Rain suits and wet roads were the theme that morning, with a fine mist lingering. As we climbed the twisty mountain road Mother Nature tossed in some thick fog, and wet leaves on the road made me even more cautious. The Smokies were really living up to their name and I wondered if there would ever be any visibility at the scenic overlooks we kept passing!

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
The Deals Gap tree of shame is adorned with plenty of broken bike parts.

After a few miles the fog lifted and we began to see breaks in the clouds, and those overlooks started to live up to their reputation. Sunshine, scenic vistas and dry roads were more than welcome. We ditched the rain gear at an overlook and cruised across the Tennessee line to Tellico Plains. After a home-cooked lunch at the Telicafe, I was thinking about what lay ahead — the infamous Tail of the Dragon, 318 curves in 11 miles that would close out our ride. I was thinking, “I’ve already scraped a floorboard or two on these mountain roads, how much more twisty can this Dragon be?” The answer is “a whole bunch more!” It’s exciting, challenging and even dangerous, with 11 miles of hairpin, switchback, and floorboard-scraping turns. Once it was behind me, I stopped at Deals Gap, the motorcycle oasis at the south end of the Dragon, and waited for Bob and his TriGlide. We topped off our day just a couple miles south of Deals Gap at the Historic Tapoco Lodge, dining at an outdoor riverfront table while reliving the day’s ride.

The next morning, I headed for home just ahead of the rain, bidding my friend good-bye and safe travels the night before. I was treated to one last ride through the Smokies before heading south outside of Ashville, already thinking of my next trip up here and all of the Carolina roads waiting to be explored.

Favorite Ride — Space Coast to the Smokies
A beautiful dinner time view from the Historic Tapoco Lodge.

Favorite Ride: Space Coast to the Smokies Photo Gallery:

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No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
Opposed twin, parallel twin, and v-twin. Top right: U.S. Route 212 Beartooth Pass, Wyoming. Bottom right: Riding in the Dinosaur National Monument, Colorado. Story and photos by Michael Palmer.

At a rest stop, a lovely young lady walked slowly, allowing her old dog to keep pace. The dog stopped in front of me, and she said, “He’s 118 in dog years. He’s gentle, you can pet him.”

Without thinking, I said, “One last road trip?” Her eyes welled with tears, and I turned my head so she wouldn’t see mine. I quickly said, “Hey, it looks like you two are having a great time.” She smiled and lifted the old guy into the well-padded backseat of her SUV. The sad part of owning dogs is, they don’t live long. Likewise, the only bad thing about being a motorcyclist is, we don’t last long enough to ride all of the roads out there. But, dadgummit, I’m gonna ride all of them that life will afford me.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams

The coronavirus pandemic be damned (while following safety guidelines), three lifelong friends in our sixties set out for parts of the country we’d never been on a 2008 BMW R 1200 GSA, 2002 Suzuki V-Strom 1000 and 2017 Yamaha Super Ténéré. In a little more than 7,000 miles and 19 days, we covered 12 states, grew thoroughly tired of sharing a hotel room and rode some of the best passes in the world. From Arkansas, we crossed Oklahoma and the panhandle of Texas to the resort town of Red River, New Mexico. Snow skiing is the main attraction, but summer fun includes hiking, mountain biking, riding the ski lift up and down the mountain, which we did, and horseback riding, which we did not. We like two wheels under us.

Our next destination was Dinosaur National Monument, located in both Colorado and Utah. U.S. Route 550 was the scenic route we took out of Durango. Anyone who has ridden 550 knows of the climb to more than 10,000 feet on Coal Bank Hill Pass and the descent to Silverton. The Million Dollar Highway between Silverton and Ouray includes the 11,075-foot Red Mountain Pass. Neither written words, nor brilliantly composed photos can do justice to the beauty along these roads. One must see it personally, from a motorcycle. Route 550 becomes U.S. Route 50 going north, where we caught Colorado State Highway 139 just north of Grand Junction and on to Dinosaur, Colorado. Dinosaur National Monument was open, and with various points of interest to ride to like the Josie Morris Cabin, it’s well worth a visit. However, due to COVID-19, the Quarry Exhibit Hall was closed. I suspect Covid killed the dinosaurs. We had Yellowstone National Park on our minds, and the lovely U.S. Route 191 north out of Vernal, Utah, took us there.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
Summit — Beartooth Pass, Montana.

We arrived a couple of hours before sunset, traffic was sparse, and we saw Old Faithful blasting over the treetops as we topped a hill. Four-legged road hazards are everywhere, but the worst, and the one I almost nailed, was the two-legged kind standing in the middle of the road, gazing through a camera at a moose. As I got off the brakes and rode slowly around him, I said, “Dude, buy a postcard.” We found plenty of lodging in Gardner, Utah, just above Yellowstone, allowing us an entire day to explore the park, ride through herds of buffalo and to the summit of Beartooth Pass, where at 10,948 feet, snow remains well into the summer. We then rode back, west, and hooked up on Wyoming Highway 296 to Cody and to the southeast entrance of Yellowstone National Park. I highly recommend 296. The pavement is smooth and grippy with plenty of curves and vistas, and we joyfully experienced one of those rare golden rain showers in the sunshine. Motorcycle touring doesn’t get any better.

Montana lived up to its nickname, Big Sky Country, as we rode U.S. Route 89 on our way to Glacier National Park. We planned to go north to Saint Mary and take the Going to the Sun Road through Glacier Park. But, travelers strictly warned us, the Blackfoot Nation was serious about having no visitors and if we entered Saint Mary, we’d likely be arrested. Had we ridden so far only to face another COVID-19 disappointment? To make the most of it, we took U.S. Route 2 west along the bottom of the Park. This turned out to be an excellent motorcycle road, and we picked up the Going to the Sun Road at West Glacier. However, traffic was thick, and we were forced to turn around at Lake McDonald. I might be like that old dog, on his last tour, but I’m going to do my best to get back to Glacier Park.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
More scenery on the climb to Beartooth Pass.

Staying on Route 2, we crossed the northern panhandle of Idaho and spent the night in Spokane, Washington. I’ve always dreamt of riding in Washington State, and Mount Saint Helens was on our radar. Would we find it closed, with COVID-19 as an excuse, and what kind of weather would we find? It had been perfect so far, and the weather was no different as we crossed eastern Washington, which, to my surprise, is desert. Leavenworth was highly recommended as a good lunch stop. It must be good; it was so crowded we could not find a place to park our motorcycles. We left and took U.S. Route 97 south to U.S. Route 12 west. Quite soon we had to put on warmer gear as 12 took us into the heart of Washington’s forest. We could clearly see snowcapped mountains in the west and south; one of them was Mount Saint Helens.

We spent the night at Randle, and then ventured south on Forest Road 25. The first thing one might notice is the “Rough Road” sign, and it is, but slow travel is necessary anyway if one wants to enjoy this rich rainforest of pine, cedar and fir trees. About 25 miles in, we took NT-99 into the clouds to Windy Ridge Viewpoint and just beyond to where the road ends. It’s at more than 4,000 feet but feels much higher. Mount Saint Helens had clothed herself in clouds, but once in a while, we’d get a glimpse of her hiding behind flowing curtains like a beautiful woman. Through the mist, we could just see Spirit Lake, still floating a huge number of logs put there by the blast in 1980. We had to — no — we got to ride out the same way we rode in, and it’s a stunning ride to I-5 where we turned north to the west entrance of the park.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
That’s me, staying young, on the east side of Mt. Saint Helens (Forest Road 99).

Spirit Lake Highway (Washington Route 504) leads up to Johnston Ridge Observatory, so named in honor of David Johnston, the geological survey volcanologist who was killed by the blast while on duty at the Coldwater II observation point. Amazingly, so much of the forest has regrown that it’s hard for an untrained eye to recognize that 150,000 acres of timber were destroyed. Douglas fir, maple, and pine, as well as elk and deer, have returned. We stopped at the Mt. Saint Helens Learning Center, to find the center and restrooms closed, due to COVID-19. From the parking lot, we viewed the Toutle River Valley, where the biggest of the mudslides occurred in 1980. We rode on to find the road closed just beyond Coldwater Lake, due to the pandemic. Our next goal, Oregon.

I had no idea Oregon has some 60 volcanoes. We avoided downtown Portland on I-205, and then took Oregon Route 224 and OR 22 south to U.S. Route 97. We were again awed by the scenery and cool temperatures as we passed Mt. Jefferson, Mt. Washington and the Three Sister volcanoes. From 97 we took OR 138 to the north entrance of Crater Lake National Park on the Volcanic Legacy Scenic Byway, my favorite part of our ride. Crater Lake is in the mouth of Mt. Mazama volcano with the surface at 6,178 or so feet, and is the deepest (1,945 feet) lake in the U.S., ninth in the world. The caldera (outer rim) is as high as 8,000 feet and one must take care walking about and taking pictures on the loose soil. There are hiking trails around, but the 1.1-mile Cleetwood Cove Trail is the only legal way to the water, where they say you can swim if you can handle the cold. Next, California and the Redwoods.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
Crater Lake National Park is a highlight of riding through Oregon. There are plenty of pleasant roads to explore and a hiking trail leading to the lake.

We made our way to the Redwood Highway (U.S. Route 199), and it seemed we were in the Redwoods before we realized it, then just as quickly, we exited the forest into Crescent City. Not a problem, because the next morning we were on U.S. Route 101 and in Del Norte Redwood State Park. We took our time, stopped and touched the forest giants, and hiked among them. We had lunch in Leggett at a food truck and, not knowing better, we missed Drive Through Tree Park, taking California Highway 1 toward the coast. No matter, as Highway 1, just off 101, was one of the best roads of the trip, and I don’t think the Pacific Coast has ever been so clear. We stayed on Highway 1 until just south of Jenner and took California Route 116 to CR 12. With my GPS set on motorcycle travel, and CR 88 as the waypoint, we were pretty well wasted by the time we reached Santa Rosa for the night. Our next destination, Lake Tahoe.

Carson Pass Highway (88) winds through mountainous pine forests with little traffic until it connects with U.S. Route 50, leading to Tahoe Valley, and CR 89 on the west shore of Lake Tahoe. Just into Incline Village, Nevada, we took the Mt. Rose Highway (Nevada Route 431). I highly recommend this 24.5-mile route that winds its way up to nearly 9,000 feet, then down to Reno. The next morning, we rode NR 341 south to Virginia City, another twisty road, and took 79 to America’s Loneliest Road (U.S. Route 50). In Utah, parts of 50 and I-70 are much like riding through the Grand Canyon. Just east of Gunnison, Colorado, we rode south on Colorado Highway 149 through a pleasant little place called Lake City and over the 10,898-foot Spring Creek Pass to South Fork. From there, we were going home.

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams
Toutle River Valley, below the west side of Mt. Saint Helens. Nature has recovered so well, it’s hard to tell this is where the largest mudslide occurred.

Kenneth, BR and I started riding together in the 1970s. We were furious competitors in motocross, enduros and hare scrambles, and, quite stupidly, on the street, too. It is a gift that the three of us are still healthy and able to do such a ride as this one. When I tell people about our trip, they say they’d love to do that, but just can’t find the time, or can’t afford it. I say, “Just pick a place, grab you credit card, and get on the motorcycle and ride. Because there is no promise of tomorrow.” That goes for all of us. 

No Promises of Tomorrow: Three Buddies Chase Sunsets and Dreams Photo Gallery:

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New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
The rugged nautical majesty of Maine’s historic Nubble Lighthouse on Cape Neddick frames the Chieftain Elite. Story and photos by Phil Buonpastore.

My cousin Jim Pace, an avid motorcyclist and native of New Hampshire, and I had long discussed touring New England from his home in Barrington, and our bucket-list ride was finally planned for last summer. Indian Motorcycles arranged for me to borrow a 2020 Chieftain Elite from Motorcycles of Manchester, so with all of the pieces in place, I flew to New Hampshire in July. The ride to Barrington gave me an opportunity to get accustomed to the bike.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
A stop at a scenic overlook on the ribbon-like Mt. Washington Auto Road.

Not long after cousin Jim and I embarked on a loop ride around Lake Winnipesaukee. Leaving Barrington on New Hampshire Route 11, gradual sweepers punctuated by a few tight turns took us along the western side of Bow Lake. Here, towns and traffic gradually disappear and the road begins to elevate to the Lake Winnipesaukee Scenic Islands Viewing Area, cresting a high embankment revealing elevated views of Diamond, Rattlesnake and Sleeper’s Island in the lake below, with rolling foothill mountains in the distance.

New Hampshire-Maine rides
Map by Bill Tipton. (Compartmaps.com)

At Glendale, NHR3 and NHR25 wind for 26 miles along the western shore of Lake Winnipesaukee. The lakefront town of Weirs Beach, location of the annual Laconia Motorcycle Week rally that brings thousands of motorcyclists to the area each June, is also a popular spot for tourists. After stopping for some locally made ice cream and people watching, we continued northeast on low stress two-lane country highway through mild curves, rolling hills and forest until reaching NHR16, also known as the White Mountain Highway, then turned south through the towns of Ossipee, Wakefield and Milton. A detour on First Crown Point Road for a quick jaunt through Blue Job Mountain State Forest and it was back to Barrington, completing a 3.5-hour, 150-mile afternoon ride.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
An abandoned Indian Motocycles truck trailer offers a surprise photo-op in Milton, New Hampshire.

The next day’s plan was to ride 60 miles north on a loop that would encompass both the Franconia and Crawford Notches, the well-known valley passes through the White Mountains. Heading north on NH16 through scenic countryside, we passed through the town of Milton, and happened upon the most surprising photo op of the week — an abandoned truck trailer painted bright yellow, with the classic Indian Motocycles logo painted in red and a rendering of a 1940’s vintage Chief motorcycle. It was an absolute must stop for photos of the new Chieftain.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
A stop for a roadside break at the Ossippe River near the town of Effingham Falls.

At Union, NHR153 is the preferred route, offering taller hills and tighter curves than the highway. Once to Conway, we headed west on the must-ride Kancamagus Highway. The first 20 miles of the highway begins leisurely and sedate, paralleling the Swift River to the Sugar Hill Scenic Vista, featuring hiking trails and the opportunity to take a cool dip on a hot summer’s day. But the fun for a rider is in the second 20 miles, where the valley between Mount Hancock and Mount Osceola offer major changes in elevation and a sequence of increasingly challenging twisties, topped by a 200-degree classic hairpin turn around the Hancock Overlook.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
The Ride up the Mt. Washington Auto Road was blanketed by thick fog for most of the ride to the summit. Cousin Jim cautiously surveys the road ahead.

At the town of Woodstock, the Kancamagus ends. Turning north on U.S. Route 3, the Daniel Webster Highway is a relaxing ride that leads through Franconia Notch State Park, a focal point for hiking trails that go up to five mountains: Lafayette, Liberty, Flume, and the Cannon and Kinsman Mountains that surround the park. North of Franconia Notch, U.S. Route 3 goes east toward U.S. Route 302 and Mount Washington. Here the skies clouded, and intermittent light rain began to fall, putting a damper on the enjoyment of the day. A quick stop to don rain gear and take photos of the magnificent Mt. Washington Hotel on a cloudy day, and we continued through the Crawford Notch to Conway, where sunshine and blue sky returned. After a stop for bygone-era photos at the Conway Railroad Museum, we returned to Barrington through broken clouds, completing 205 miles and 4.75 hours of ride time. The loop was spectacular, but we would need another opportunity to fully enjoy the Crawford Notch and Washington Hotel in better weather.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
At the summit, the Sherman Adams Building houses the Mt. Washington Observatory and Museum, and chains anchor the Tip-Top House to the mountain. Wind velocities here have been recorded as high as 231 mph.

By midweek, the days had become sunny, clear and blue, perfect for a ride to the top of Mt. Washington State Park. Taking NH16 north for 75 miles brought us to the park entrance at about 1 p.m. After paying the $20 entrance fee and getting our “This Bike Climbed Mt. Washington” bumper stickers, we started up the very twisty, ribbon-thin 7.6-mile Auto Road to the top of Mt. Washington. The road is hardly wide enough for two cars, and the ride to the summit was made all the more interesting by a heavy fog that settled on the mountain about halfway up, sometimes limiting vision to less than 50 feet, with a road section under repair reduced to dirt and gravel. Keep calm, and keep moving. Still, I couldn’t pass up opportunities for ghost-like photos, with headlights appearing and disappearing as they passed in the fog.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England

At the road’s end is Mount Washington State Park, a 60-acre site topping the 6,288-foot summit of the Northeast’s highest peak, surrounded by the 750,000-acre White Mountain National Forest. Mt. Washington is famous for having the highest recorded wind velocity ever measured in the U.S., an astounding 231 mph, and the summit building built in the 1930s is chained to the ground in order to withstand the sometimes very high winds. On clear days, summit views extend as far as 130 miles to Vermont, New York, Massachusetts, Maine, Quebec and out to the Atlantic Ocean. Breaks in the fog allowed for some amazing views into the Tuckerman Ravine. The well-known Appalachian Trail also crosses the Auto Road about halfway up to the summit.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England

The Sherman Adams Building houses the Mount Washington Observatory and Museum, and the Tip-Top House, a hotel built in 1853 and renovated in 1986 for historic tours. While Covid-19 restrictions had closed these facilities to the public, the Mt. Washington Cog Railway was operating. Built in 1866 by Sylvester Marsh, these unique and beautiful period trains use a giant cog-style gear and rack system to pull railcars up the mountain at angles from 25 to as great as 38 degrees, transporting visitors from the Marshfield Base Station near the Mt. Washington Hotel to the top of the mountain.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
One of the few operating in the U.S., the colorful Mt. Washington Cog Railway uses a gear and rack system to operate on inclines from 25 to 38 degrees.

As rainy weather had previously kept us from experiencing the Crawford Notch and Mt. Washington Hotel in all their brilliant glory, we took a detour on U.S. Route 302 to make another pass through the notch and a get second look at the hotel. This time, we were not disappointed. Closing in on the golden hour, the late afternoon sunlight bathed the steep mountainsides in deep amber as we rode through the notch.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
The Crawford Notch runs through the White Mountains some 4,000 feet overhead.

The Mt. Washington Hotel is a massive and beautiful structure of the grandest design built in 1902. Its history boasts the signing of the agreement for the creation of the World Bank and International Monetary Fund in 1944, and the filming of scenes from the movie “The Shining,” as well as supposedly being haunted by a ghost named Carolyn, the wife of the hotel’s builder and first owner, Joseph Stickney. I am not sure, however, if any of this information recommends a night’s stay there! After a walk through the hotel to take in the building’s beautiful interior and the large semi-circular patio that overlooks the golf course and mountains behind, and we were riding once again.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
The spectacular Mt. Washington Hotel, built in 1902, has hosted presidents and world dignitaries.

Passing through the town of Freedom, we saw an old rustic barn with a sign reading “Freedom Farm” above its double doors, an obvious final photo-op of the day. With the afternoon spent on Mt. Washington, we arrived home after dark, completing a 225-mile loop.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
The “Freedom Farm” in the town of Freedom affirms both the New Hampshire motto and the rider’s resolve: “Live Free or Die.” Center: U.S. 1A, or Long Beach Avenue, runs through the seaside town of York, and within yards of the Atlantic Ocean.

The next day it was time for something completely different — a seaside ride on the coast of Maine. Taking NHR9 and Dover Point Road to Portsmouth then crossing the Maine border, we rode out toward the Atlantic coast on Maine Route 103, a lovely Maine low-country ride along small rivers and waterways and through coastal communities, serene and peaceful. MR103 changes road names from Shapleigh to Whipple to Tenny Hill to Brave Boat Harbor Road before crossing the York River, leading to a right turn onto U.S. 1A, also known as Long Beach Ave. Within a few miles, the road turns parallel to the coast and within feet of the Atlantic Ocean, often separated only by public beach and sidewalk. The day granted perfect riding weather — clear blue skies, low 80-degree temperatures and scattered cumulus. A detour on Nubble Road through spectacular oceanfront residences led to the Nubble Lighthouse, perched on its own island and picture-perfect. North of the lighthouse, we continued through the York Cliffs, Bald Head and Ogunquit areas, with the road becoming less populated as it reached the coastal Wells National Estuarine Research Reserve, then to the beautiful town of Kennebunkport, vacation spot of presidents. Maine Route 9A to New Hampshire Route 9 served for a fine open-country ride on the one-hour return to Barrington.

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
Built in 1879, The Nubble Lighthouse, also known as the Cape Neddick Light, is still in use today.

My arrangements with Indian included returning the motorcycle in Florida, and later that week I began the ride south. New Hampshire and Maine had been new territory for me, and there is a lot of riding there yet to be done. Looks like I’ll need a bigger bucket. 

New England Loops: A Bucket-List Ride in New England
Built in 1879, The Nubble Lighthouse, also known as the Cape Neddick Light, is still in use today.

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