I am packing for 12 to 13 weeks of intensive contract work. RE is being attended to and getting his new parts installed.
Here is the blow by blow of it all.
In response to a request by my good friend Allen and fellow vintage British bike lover, I made my presentation to a SF Bay area riders group. I found that most (unlike Allen) were surprised that I would even consider riding an Indian RE on such trips. These guys are solid HD, BMW, KTM, Moto Guzzi and large displacement Japanese bike riders. But tonight HD appears to be the majority. The majority of the bikes in the parking look brand new. Some look well ridden, but they are clearly the minority. Even the BMWs and KTMs laden with huge box panniers glitter. To them anything under 1000 cc is a mini bike. They pull RE by over 100hp. A few own a KLR or BMW single, they say for their wives or girlfriends. They are referred to as “girlie bikes” and sewing machines. (Iron Butt riders will disagree). Some actually ride hard, go to exotic places and rack up high mileage every year. And I give them credit for that. A lot of credit. Alaska to the tip of South America. Huge! They get my vote! I respect them.
There is no shortage of $30,000 motorcycles in the parking lot. This group represents the crème of the Bay area motorcycle riding professionals. You ride with them by invitation only. Don’t hold your breath for an invitation either. Many bikes are professionally detailed. They have made Arlen Ness and HD Specialty Vehicles branch rich.
My presentation is; Backroads Only and Super light. I have about twenty minutes to present to group of about thirty-five riders. At mid-point it is evident that I am either impoverished and can’t afford a decent bike or quite mad or both as I give them a brief overview of my trip. A Royal Enfield 500??? So, damn small. And dangerous, no power. Do they still make those things? What??? Why??? I may as well be a Martian. But as I continue they listen, and finally get engaged into the presentation. It is evident this is not what they are used to hearing. I did not shame Charlie Borman or his Moto Guzzi spokesperson sidekick. But they see my point….. It seems. They ask a fair amount of questions and we go over a bit. To a person they were amazed RE did with no problems and I carried so little gear.
One guy sitting on the front row gives me body signals that he thinks the whole thing is absurd. Finally, he cannot contain himself. It is evident that he is important (somewhere) and used to talking and being listened to by his subordinates. He tells the group “I could have done the whole damn trip in three days. If I wanted to get to Canada, I’d not choose those roads, way too long.” Was he listening? I reminded him; “getting to Canada was not the point. It was only a destination, the point was the ride to Canada.” And that the Enfield “was a means to experience the basic elements of riding a motorcycle, of riding a machine, not an appliance. (Boy did that hit a sour note). To bring texture to the fabric of life. (That little bit of philosophy was completely lost on him).” He began to tell me how unreliable they were. Much like the damned Urals. They fall apart as your ide them. Leak oil as well. “How many times did you breakdown?” I then mentioned the two (UCE) higher mileage examples from the RE forum that indicated otherwise in terms of perceived reliability. “Look, I can get on I-25 North and blast to the North Pole and back in the time it took you to get there and without parts falling off. Makes no sense.” I figured either you get it or you don’t, he does not.
I see this is going nowhere, so thank him for his keen insight and close, and hand it over to the next presenter and leave. My friend Allen, who is also a very successful investment banker, motioned for me to stop by the bar on the way out. He surprised me completely when he said; “stick around there a few guys who would really like to talk to you.” Half an hour later about six guys are really drilling me more about the trips. Out of thirty or so, not bad. All admitted that of late the trips were very predictable and that they were not having the fun that I expressed on and about my trips. We talked about routes. I had only one rule no Interstates. I reminded them that, Interstates in my opinion, numbed our senses. No memory of the trip, numb going, numb returning….nothing. Certainly necessary for commerce, but not for riding. That to me riding, true riding was found elsewhere. Motorcycles are about enhancing the sensory input of life, not a dose of Novocain to the brain short-circuiting every sensory nerve ending. I added that my Royal Enfield was not perfect and neither am I. It reflects imperfection. But in that imperfection is a grace and honesty that stirs the senses. Yes, it may fail, but so do we. But that the ability accomplish something with imperfection is far greater than to do it with a guarantee of success. I knew the bike had limits and I worked and molded those limits into a successfully endeavor. You can’t do that with $25,000 to $30,000 bike as it is too isolated form the riding experience. There is no gut wrenching emotion or uncertainty or involvement. I much prefer riding that requires you to create the success. It is certainly not in the bubble and out safely three days later. The Enfield asked you to be a co-participant in the event. And rewards you for it.
At this point they think I am either mad or a mystic. To counter I simply said “I am all about riding and getting the maximum experience from it. Remember when you were younger, the fun you had? The magic of it all? Well the Royal Enfield recaptures that feeling.” Now they get it…I hope. One guy said, “OK, OK I get it. How about we setup a vintage run? I have a BSA A10 twin.” Others agreed, “that is something I’d like try. Sounds like fun.” I agree to consider the idea with Allen and get back to him in a week or so. Trust me their idea of a vintage run and mine are likely to be poles apart.
But what I really wanted to ask them was;
Have you ever stopped at a country store, started a conversation with the store owner and enjoying each other’s company been invited to his home for lunch? His home is two story log cabin.
Have you ever paused to enjoy a view so beautiful that your eyes ache, and have a rancher stop by and once talking, ask where you planned to stay? And be invited to say in the bunkhouse with a few hands? After a great steak. Simply because, “we don’t get much company out here.”
Have you ever given his 13 year old daughter her first motorcycle ride blasting down the mile long drive way to the mailbox at all of 30 mph? While she screams with delight and joy.
Have you had breakfast with a ranch family and when leaving have them hug you and say, “Please come back this way. And oh, here is lunch.”
Have you ever stopped at a stream of mountain run off in the spring time and put your bare feet in water so cold you all but go into shock. But feel ever so happy and instantly refreshed.
Have you ever ridden all day on roads so twisty you lose all sense of direction and then find a valley deep in the mountain so remote that it seems as though time were reversed a hundred years or more?
Have you ever ridden on a road that instead of conquering the terrain is actually molded to it? A road that allows you to feel every subtle nuance, dip, rise, hollow and temperature change? And feel the torque of a big single pull you along. Almost counting the beats as the cylinder is firing up to the top of each rise?
Well, I have. And it was not anywhere near I-25. Nor did we discuss our portfolios. Ever.
But I did not ask, for then I would have been discounted as completely crazy.
I admire this group especially the real riders for the most part. They love motorcycles as much as I do. But, I am not my processions. The $30,000 or more HD is not a motorcycle, but a piece of jewelry that says, I can afford this!! When the Rushmore engine was released, the HD market was glutted with “old” bikes. You can’t be seen riding yesterday’s status symbol. A new current bike is very necessary for them to reestablish who they are in the where they fit into the pecking order of this group. Am I still noticed, visible, or even relevant? Group dynamics will not allow anything but the high end. You must make a statement or perish.
For the most part I try to have little personal identity with the objects I own, for they are tools as is money. Tools are to be used. I seek an identity that speaks not of my job, position, income or station in life. But of my joy of life and living. I admire success, often seek it, but choose not to be captive of it. My Royal Enfield is not my identity, but a very special tool.
But despite all I’ve just said it does make a statement, just as the HD or BMW does. Objects, despite all of our misgivings, and resistance, do make statements about us and our choices in life. Marketing proves and pursues this axiom. Gratefully in the case of the Enfield, it states that I am apart from the herd. I am not following a pack to garner an identity. Or a place in the pecking order. I am completely out of order.
Some, but most certainly not all of these guys, worry more about their image, their profile, than who and what they are as human beings. Easy to spot and pick out. Enough of black boots, black T-shirts, designer jeans with sleeveless denim jackets and three days of stubble on the face. All artfully tailored to look authentic. You are all in the same uniform…….you rugged independent individualist. ENOUGH!!l Same with BMW and unsoiled synthetic riding gear. Enough! And the around town Adventure Bikes. No you are not going around the world un- supported. You are going to McDonalds. Your panniers are for burgers and fries. Easy to spot.
Do you have courage? Not the testicular abundance it takes to ride a motorcycle well over time and miles. But the courage to leave the herd, to forge your own identity and to be confident that you are not being like-minded with the mass and actually desire that. To literally walk your own walk? You see, the Royal Enfield reminds me that the path less traveled is the most abundant in life experience. That less, is nearly always more. It is the portal to a much richer perspective. Riding an Enfield brings your senses alive like no appliance can ever hope to. I hope I can live up to the image.
Topic: Bay area riders group talk. (Read 3073 times)