I have two motorcycles, a 2021 BMW R-Nine-T, which is a 1200cc cafe racer that I have no business riding too far since my knees are tucked up and it has no wind fairing other that a small shield covering the front light. I bought it to have a spare bike for when my son Thomas comes out and and wants to ride or if another riding friend (fewer and further in between) comes to stay for a few days. I use it to scoot around the local neighborhood, but would never want to take it out on the highway for very far. The other motorcycle is a 2019 BMW R1250GS Adventure, which is by far the most ubiquitous model of motorcycle in the entire world. At five years old, it is a perfectly seasoned ride with only 15,000 miles on the odometer and not lacking in any features I would want or need on a bike. Is is what they call an all-terrain bike that is built to be ridden either on or off the road (usually with different tires unless you get a dual-purpose tire). It is a tall bike, which is good for me and it is a substantial bike that maneuvers perfectly with wide handlebars and a smallish windshield that is enough to direct wind over my head and therefore be easier to ride on the highway. It is decidedly not a touring bike with all the aerodynamic fairing protection that is easier to ride for hundreds of of miles on the highway with almost no untoward wind impact, but as a general purpose motorcycle it really does the trick. I often say that it is by far the best bike I have ever owned in my 57 years of riding.
I bought the R-Nine-T on a whim, but the GS I bought from a riding friend and colleague Lee, who had had a very bad bicycle accident (broken hip and concussion) that had given his wife and daughter cause to force him to urgently sell anything in his garage that had only two wheels. He pleaded with me in the midst of COVID in 2020 to take it off his hands for him. I low-balled an offer of $17,000 for what had been a fully-loaded $30,000 bike since I knew it would be a hassle during COVID to ship it from New York out here. He accepted the offer gladly (Lee does not lack for money) and helped me arrange shipment and it arrived in April, 2020. Since then I have put on most of its mileage with various roadtrips around the Southwest, most notably to Utah, Arizona and New Mexico. But mostly, I drive it locally around all the magnificent roads here in San Diego County, where the riding is nothing short of spectacular…and only minutes away from this hilltop in what we call North County.
I’m sure if I charted my mileage on my GS, I would find that I have been riding it successively less each year since 2020. I don’t do that math simply because that is the sort of information that would do nothing but bother me as an indication of either complacency or gradual aging out of the sport. I have had zero thoughts of selling my motorcycles and calling it quits. There are some activities that are simply too woven into the fabric of who we are to place an absolute prohibition against engagement. I recently spoke with a neighbor who says he has two bikes and that he rides, but that his son handles his bikes for him and both his son and his wife don’t want him to ride and are keeping him off the bikes by making up excuses that they are not mechanically sound at the moment. Listening to that made me feel that it was a pathetic excuse for not riding. I have known people who have consciously stopped riding (like my friend Lee, who, strangely enough, is now back to riding as he has totally healed and gotten his family off his back), and that is OK as a personal decision. It saddens me to hear it because it feels like giving up, but I have very little sympathy for guys who make up excuses that imply that they are being forced by other to not ride.
The whole basis for riding is the sense of personal freedom it provides. There is something very liberating in just throwing a leg over a machine and braving the elements a bit by hitting the open road. Life is never perfect, and there are things that can and do go wrong ranging from a spill to a breakdown that leaves you in a quandary about what to do next, but that uncertainty is a part (admittedly these days a very small part due to the great bike technology) of the adventure. I am sure it is very much like the freedom men in the old west felt about jumping on their horse and just setting out onto the prairie or high desert. We all know that the cowboy life was less wonderful than the movies have projected, but the image of the Marlboro Man bearing up under whatever duress life in the saddle held for him is a great American icon for strength and honor. That is the feeling I have always gotten while riding around, especially in the last thirty years of riding out here in the west.
Right now is the perfect weather for riding. The sky is cloudless and the sun is shining. Visibility is basically forever. And the temperature is cool, in the upper sixties at midday, so you can reasonably don your protective clothing and feel 100% comfortable in the wearing. That all makes the ride that much more invigorating. In addition, at moments like this when I have no pending work assignments and no personal issues I am wrestling with, my head is clear of any distractions and I can do what you should always do on a motorcycle, stay focused on the road 150 feet in front of you. Motorcycling may be the best analogy for a happy life I can imagine. If you stay in the moment you will always be OK and in great spirits and will always get through whatever presents itself in your path.
As I awoke this morning and considered my mid-week, pre-holiday week, I felt like each day of this week was blending into the next. At least yesterday I had a short scheduled work call, but today my dance card is completely open. My landscape lighting refresh has gone as far as it can go until I get the bulbs and risers I have ordered. They are due to arrive later today. Had they arrived last night I would feel differently about the day since there would at least be some small chore awaiting my attention. But there is literally nothing I can do today other than make up some back hillside maintenance to do since I have already prepped the landscape lighting in several spots in anticipation of the missing parts. the added point is that I have time to kill tomorrow as well and that means today is literally wide open after I finish this story.
So, I have decided that my spiritual batteries need recharging and that I should go outside into the garage and prep my GS for a day trip up Mount Palomar. The scenery is always spectacular and I know I will come back refreshed and feeling both vital and ready for whatever the world has to throw my way. We are taking a roadtrip on Friday to go up to Solvang for the Christmas Market. We will pick up Gary and Oswaldo and stop for lunch with Kim’s sister Sharon and her husband Woo. We will bed down for two nights at the Buellton Hampton Inn in the lovely Santa Ynez Valley and enjoy the refined yet folksy pleasures of the local holiday festival. I expect it will be somewhat crowded but not unpleasantly so. What it wont be is invigorating and solitary, which is what I will get out of today’s ride up the mountain and back down. Time to recharge.
P.S. I’m at the Lake Henshaw Cafe, my usual lunch spot on this route. I just had a great ride up the switchbacks of S6 to Mount Palomar and the down the sweepers of S7. Other than passing one truck and seeing one knee scrapper coming up S7, there was literally no one else on the road. What a delight for 90 minutes of skin-tingling riding. What made it extra special was encountering the San Diego County Sheriff’s motorcycle drill team at Castle Creek Road. They turned right in front of me in perfect 13-bike formation. What’s a guy supposed to do but tuck in behind them and follow them up the country road heading to Valley Center. It was particularly cool to shadow them for 12 miles on the switchbacks when they broke into single-file formation to take the curves at speed (we hit 80 once, but I figured they couldn’t nab me for following their lead so long as I stayed a hundred feet back). This encounter was like recharging on a 480 Volt supercharger.