Blog | Rider Magazine https://ridermagazine.com Rider Magazine features the latest motorcycle reviews, news, and videos. This is Motorcycling at its Best. Thu, 19 Jan 2023 16:05:55 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.1.1 Living with an ‘Iron Barrel’ Royal Enfield Bullet 500 https://ridermagazine.com/2022/11/30/living-with-an-iron-barrel-royal-enfield-bullet-500/ https://ridermagazine.com/2022/11/30/living-with-an-iron-barrel-royal-enfield-bullet-500/#comments Wed, 30 Nov 2022 16:49:16 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=70229 Why on earth did I recently pick up a 2006 “iron barrel” Royal Enfield Bullet 500? In a word, nostalgia. The last bike I had to kickstart was a used 1970s Honda Trail 70 that I got on my 10th birthday. It was loud and burned oil, and I terrorized the neighborhood’s backroads at a […]

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2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
My time machine: a 2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500. (Photos by the author)

Why on earth did I recently pick up a 2006 “iron barrel” Royal Enfield Bullet 500? In a word, nostalgia.

The last bike I had to kickstart was a used 1970s Honda Trail 70 that I got on my 10th birthday. It was loud and burned oil, and I terrorized the neighborhood’s backroads at a blistering 30 mph. That bike was life, and it made me feel like Evel Knievel. Some of my friends’ parents thought I was a bad seed as a result, but I was just having fun and caught the adrenaline bug early (and some of the suit-wearing dads were probably jealous).

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500 / Honda Trail 70
Look out world, here I come!

My first streetbike was a used 1989 Honda NT650 Hawk, which was fast in its day and a real performer, and I’ve craved that rush ever since. Fast forward to today, and I’m riding a supercharged Kawasaki Z H2 that doesn’t disappoint.

I guess I’m about to age myself, but it’s been 33 years since I last kickstarted a bike (at 15) and here I am kickstarting a streetbike in 2022 – a new-to-me 2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500. That sounds fairly new, but these bikes are anomalies as they’re basically 1955 designs. India had strict tariffs for decades that kept foreign competition out, so there wasn’t an urgency to update what became a timeless design. It’s like a Volkswagen Beetle on two wheels.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
The first Royal Enfield Bullet was built in England in 1931. The last one was built in India in 2020.

The first Royal Enfield motorcycle was built in 1901 by the Enfield Cycle Company of Redditch, England. In 1931, Royal Enfield introduced the Bullet, a single-cylinder motorcycle available in 350cc or 500cc displacements. The iteration of the Bullet introduced in 1948 was produced nearly unchanged in the UK until 1966. Like many other British manufacturers at the time, Royal Enfield suffered a slow, ignominious decline and finally went belly up in 1970.

Related: The Royal Enfield Story

In 1955, India’s Madras Motors was granted a license to build Bullets, and Royal Enfield India was established as an independent company. It thrived, outlasting its English cousin and growing into one of the world’s largest motorcycle manufacturers, headquartered on India’s southeastern coast in Chennai. Bullets were produced essentially unchanged for more than five decades until they were upgraded in 2008 to an all-aluminum unit construction engine (UCE) with fuel injection. Bullets continued to be produced until 2020. In 2022, the iconic Bullet styling was reborn in the Classic 350.

Related: 2022 Royal Enfield Classic 350 Review

Why Subject Myself to This?

The pre-UCE Bullet’s reputation is interesting; it’s a quirky, no-frills, underpowered bike with quality control issues and bizarre maintenance needs, but it’s also one of the most iconic models in history. In fact, it holds the claim as the longest-running motorcycle model in continuous production: 90 years, from 1931 to 2020. It beats the venerable Harley Sportster, which was produced for 66 years (1957-2022).

Related: Evo Sportster | End of an Era

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
The breezy engine room of my “iron barrel” Bullet 500.

Technicalities aside, no other bike from the 21st century provides such an “old world” experience as an Royal Enfield Bullet with cast iron cylinder barrels in an aluminum head. Even Harley changed to all aluminum engines in the mid-1980s to keep up with foreign competitors. I just had to know why a traditional Bullet is such an icon. Or to think about it another way: What was it like riding in my grandfather’s day? (Hint: horrible.)

This particular bike is a solid runner, but it has multiple issues and took many nights in the garage to get it where it is today. There’s some piston slap (likely an issue with bearings), the timing gears are a bit worn, and the transmission is so sloppy that every gear change is a potential false neutral. Finding actual neutral is challenging enough that it could qualify as an Olympic event. Since operating this bike is more art than science, I wear old sneakers so I can really feel the shifter.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
The neutral light is like my North Star.

Kickstarting a bike that’s loud, obnoxious, and problematic takes me back to the Honda that my dad rolled into the kitchen when I thought a pair of shoes and jeans were my only 10th birthday gifts. 

I’m Not Embarrassed

When I’m on my Kawi Z H2, I feel kinda cool. It looks futuristic, sounds amazing, and is almost always the fastest bike on the road. Only a handful of other naked bikes can compete – Ducati V4 Streetfighter, Aprilia Tuono V4, Triumph Speed Triple 1200 RS, you get the idea. It’s never about image and always about having fun, though on rare occasions I do pretend to be Batman (minus the cape). What can I say? When stopped at lights, people sometimes stare and even ask questions. It’s just one of those bikes.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
What are you looking at?

My Royal Enfield Bullet, however, elicits different kinds of stare. Some people think I’m broke and desperately trying to get somewhere on an old, loud, crappy bike. Others give me a nod of admiration. Some recognize it for what it is, while others simply appreciate vintage bikes – or a motorcycle built in 2006 that looks like it was built in 1955.

Related: 2010 Royal Enfield Bullet C5 Classic Review

Let’s back up for a second. Like I said, it’s not about image, but this bike just screams for attention. The exhaust is already loud, and there are rattles and knocks that would scare an antique chainsaw. When I can tune out the clatter and hear the distinctive thumping of the 500cc Single, however, it starts to make sense. There’s a legit icon underneath the proverbial rust (although there’s some real rust too). The noise tends to quiet down in 4th and 5th gears, and having a sense of what bikes were like in the mid-20th century is kind of cool. When parked, I’m amazed that so much ruckus can come from such a small bike. It’s like a rabid chihuahua.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
Classic analog gauges served motorcyclists well for decades. We don’t need no steenking TFT.

Riding the Mean Streets of L.A.

Los Angeles is an interesting place to ride. Some of the best motorcycling roads are located within reach – the Pacific Coast Highway, all the legendary Malibu roads (Mulholland, Latigo, Piuma, Stunt, Decker, etc.), and the Angeles Crest Highway, to name drop just a few. But cruising through the city is a different experience entirely. Traffic is notoriously bad, as are the drivers, but a bike like the Bullet 500 is designed for this. Have you ever seen the chaotic car, motorcycle, bicycle, pedestrian, and animal traffic in India? It’s pure mayhem.

That said, I’ve never ridden a streetbike like I do the Bullet. I’m more focused on engine noise and when to shift and am hesitant to exceed 50 mph as the engine complains in no uncertain terms. I already feel like a hospice caregiver forcing my patient to jog, so pushing it to a sprint is probably ill-advised.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
Ye olde kickstarter.

Let’s start on a typical cold November morning. The kickstand is missing, so it’s a centerstand-only affair, although that’s ideal for kickstarters. The bike originally came with a points ignition system, but somewhere along the line it was upgraded to an electronic ignition. That’s a more reliable system but negates a traditional way to kickstart the bike. You want the piston at top dead center, and with points, the ammeter (next to the speedometer) can signal this position. It doesn’t work with an electronic ignition, so I just go by feel and when it seems close enough. I’ve reached a point where it starts within three kicks when cold. That sounds positively archaic, but prior to getting my Bullet truly road worthy, it could take 10 or even 15 minutes to start. I don’t care what kind of shape you’re in, that’s exhausting.

After a few minutes of questionable rattles and knocks, it’s warmed up and ready to roll. I maybe use 50% of the throttle as I again don’t want to push it, and that makes an already slow bike even slower. We’re talking about 23 hp (when new). There are drum brakes front and rear, so I plan stops accordingly as it’s like slowing a freight train.

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
Going nowhere fast but having fun.

Lane splitting is easy as the bike is loud and narrow, but overtaking cars just isn’t a thing, and those ubiquitous pay-as-you-go electric Lime scooters can easily pass me. It’ll comfortably cruise at 50 mph and blend in as a bona fide motorcycle, though. Honestly, I’d be miserable if this was my only bike (see supercharged Kawasaki Z H2 above), but as a second or third bike, it’s entertaining, and I’m no longer concerned it’ll leave me stranded. It even handled a recent 25-mile ride like a champion asthmatic senior Great Dane with hip dysplasia.

Night Riding is a Lesson in Improvising

Everything works during the day (relatively), but things change after dark. The headlight turns on (you can also turn it off), but it draws too much power and tries to stall the bike. It’s an aftermarket unit and the battery charges fine, so I’m not sure if it’s an alternator thing or just the wrong third-party light. The speedometer doesn’t light up at all, although that’s likely just a blown bulb. Thankfully the motorcycle gods have left the neutral light intact because if that didn’t provide its faint green glow, the already difficult transmission would be nigh impossible to deal with. It’s important to ride this bike often to keep it healthy, as even parking it for a week can cause issues, including oil settling (called wet sumping). Therefore, I’m forced to ride at night on occasion. 

2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500
Night rider.

My current solution is to (allegedly) use a very powerful handlebar light for mountain bikes. It’s brighter with a wider spread than the stock headlight and designed for rough terrain, so the heavy engine vibrations aren’t problematic. I’m not sure about the exact legalities, which is why I allegedly do it. And it allegedly works very well. The beam even lights the speedometer on its way to the street. The permanent solution is either a stock headlight or new alternator, and I’m hoping the former is the answer.

Is It Worth It?

Back when my bike was new, Rider tested a 2006 Royal Enfield Bullet 500 ES Electra X, which is an upgraded, premium edition. Things were a little problematic even then, so you can imagine what the years, multiple owners, and almost 20,000 miles can do to a very old Indian design. It amazes me that this Bullet was sold new in 2006, but I also appreciate it. It’s not for everyone – and I’d only recommend it as a second bike – but the overall experience is unlike anything built after the early 1970s. Build quality is questionable, regardless of mileage or abuse, and as mentioned earlier, it’s quirky by even the most charitable standards of today. I also have a 2022 Royal Enfield Continental GT 650, which is basically a 1960s cafe racer without the headaches, and it might as well be from a different manufacturer. Royal Enfield has come a very long way, and the Continental can (kind of) rival a modern Triumph.

2022 Royal Enfield Continental GT
My 2022 Royal Enfield Continental GT is a looker and a runner.

So, is it worth it? Yeah, but only for the right person. This is all about riding a historic model, understanding its shortcomings, and appreciating how far motorcycles have come. It’s a snapshot of the 1950s, not the 21st century, which is an important distinction. Don’t let “2006” fool you. If I didn’t have my other bikes, I’d likely hate the Bullet, but as a niche ride that doesn’t have responsibilities (as in, actually getting me somewhere fast), this iconic piece of British-Indian engineering will always have a home in my garage.

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https://ridermagazine.com/2022/11/30/living-with-an-iron-barrel-royal-enfield-bullet-500/feed/ 27 1 a:0:{} 1 Erik Slaven Contributor Erik Slaven shares his experiences owning and riding a 2006 “iron barrel” Royal Enfield Bullet 500 in Los Angeles, California. a:1:{s:11:"td_subtitle";s:88:"Riding around Los Angeles on a temperamental relic from India shows how far we’ve come";}
Things People Say to the Motorcycle Guy https://ridermagazine.com/2022/09/12/things-people-say-to-the-motorcycle-guy/ https://ridermagazine.com/2022/09/12/things-people-say-to-the-motorcycle-guy/#comments Mon, 12 Sep 2022 20:18:10 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=68965 Back when BMW’s R nineT motorcycle had just been released in the U.S., I got to take one for a test ride. The iconic Boxer motor, nicely sorted chassis, and fabulous brakes impressed me through some sweet curves along Scantic Road and Crystal Lake Road in north-central Connecticut. The bike’s crisp neo-retro style caught the […]

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Ep. 41: Rider Magazine Insider Podcast Scott A Williams motorcycle
Scott A. Williams, Rider contributor, smiles with his BMW on a dirt path.

Back when BMW’s R nineT motorcycle had just been released in the U.S., I got to take one for a test ride. The iconic Boxer motor, nicely sorted chassis, and fabulous brakes impressed me through some sweet curves along Scantic Road and Crystal Lake Road in north-central Connecticut. The bike’s crisp neo-retro style caught the attention of pedestrians when I stopped to take pictures. But two guys in a highly modded Honda Civic were most impressed.

Waiting on their left at a traffic light, I noticed they were laughing quite hysterically. The driver pointed at the bike and called over to me. “Where’d you get the BMW logos?” His question was punctuated by more laughter.

“They must have put them on at the factory in Germany,” I said.

“Yeah, like BMW makes motorcycles.” “Right, since before they made cars.”

They were still laughing when the light turned green.

There’s anecdotal evidence that many people aren’t aware BMW makes motorcycles. I was shopping in my hometown grocery store, and as is often the case, I was wearing a baseball hat. This one featured a BMW roundel with “BMW Motorcycles” embroidered underneath. In one particular aisle, I had stopped to compare items on the shelves when I heard quiet laughter. I looked around to see what I was missing.

“That’s funny,” said the only other shopper there.

“Excuse me, what’s funny?”

“Your hat.”

“What’s funny about my hat?”

“BMW doesn’t make motorcycles.”

“Actually, BMW has been making motorcycles longer than cars.”

“You’re kidding!”

“They make sportbikes, touring bikes, adventure bikes, cruisers, you name it.”

On my phone I pulled up a picture of my R 1200 RT. “Here’s mine,” I said, zooming in on the BMW roundel on the side panel. “See?”

“Oh, my god, you’re serious! I can’t wait to tell my husband. He isn’t going to believe this!”

Related Story: BMW Announces Updates to Select 2023 Models

Scott A. Williams motorcycle
“You write stories about riding a motorcycle? Who would read those?”

Then there was the brief conversation I had a few years ago with a teenager doing his best to look cool while pumping gas into a minivan. His parents and siblings were in the van, a potentially embarrassing situation for a teen, but he took control of the situation by calling over to the motorcycle guy.

“Hey, man, nice bike!”

“Thanks,” I replied as everyone in the van turned to see.

“What kind is it?”

“A Honda ST1300.”

“Wow…really? I never knew Honda made motorcycles. Pretty cool.” He hung up the nozzle, gave me the slightest nod of acknowledgement, and hopped in the van.

My motorcycle brand philosophy is “Two wheels good,” but I’m more than happy to return a little shade thrown my way. While stopped on my ST1300 and waiting to turn right, a Harley-Davidson Ultra pulled up next to me in the left turn lane. The bike had gleaming two-tone paint and acres of spotless chrome. The couple on board sported matching leather jackets with flowing fringe. The rider looked over at me and shook his head. “Nice scooter,” he laughed, with obvious satisfaction. Witty guy.

I raised my visor to reply. “Thanks, man. Nice tractor.” His passenger laughed so hard I thought she’d fall off the bike. Slack-jawed, the guy turned his gaze away and waited for his opportunity to turn left.

Related Story: Perceptions | Being a Good Samaritan Motorcyclist, by Scott A. Williams

At that same intersection one sizzling summer day, a young woman in a doors-off Jeep Wrangler pulled up on my left. She looked over at me, dressed as I always am in an armored, all-weather riding suit, and announced, “You sure look hot in that suit.”

“Thanks a lot!” I replied with a thumbs up. She seemed confused at first by my response, then laughed, looking a little embarrassed at her unintended double entendre.

Sometimes it’s the motorcycle passengers who initiate a conversation. While I waited in Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, to board the ferry to Maine, the cold gray sky poured a drenching rain. A ferry terminal worker directed a group of bikes to the staging lane at my right. I exchanged waves with the riders and passengers. Despite the wet conditions, the only “raingear” I could see was on a couple of passengers who had cut out head and arm holes in large plastic garbage bags to fashion rain vests. One of the passengers called over to me, “Are you dry in that suit?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Warm too.”

She thwacked her rider on the back of his helmet and commenced a tirade of I-told-you-so’s.

On a much drier day, I approached the old (and structurally deficient) Lake Champlain Bridge between Chimney Point, Vermont, and Crown Point, New York, and an official-looking woman wearing a uniform and high-viz vest signaled for me to stop. “Good morning, sir,” she began, “I’m conducting a survey for the DOT that will inform the design of a new bridge at this location. Can I ask where you are going today?”

“Calabogie,” I replied.

“Excuse me…where?”

“Calabogie, Ontario, Canada.” I said it was located on a lake west of Ottawa and, pointing to my GPS, explained that my planned route would take me through the Adirondacks and into Canada via the ferry from Cape Vincent.

“Calabogie,” she said, making a note on her clipboard. “That is going to be an outlier. Enjoy your ride!”

I do enjoy my rides, sometimes made more memorable by the things people say to the motorcycle guy.

This column from longtime contributor Scott A. Williams originally appeared in the September issue of Rider.

Related Story: Scott A. Williams | Ep. 41 Rider Magazine Insider Podcast

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https://ridermagazine.com/2022/09/12/things-people-say-to-the-motorcycle-guy/feed/ 45 a:0:{} 1 Longtime Rider contributor Scott A. Williams relates the amusing things people say to motorcycle riders (especially those on BMW motorcycles). 1
Perceptions | Being a Good Samaritan Motorcyclist https://ridermagazine.com/2022/07/19/perceptions-being-a-good-samaritan-motorcyclist/ https://ridermagazine.com/2022/07/19/perceptions-being-a-good-samaritan-motorcyclist/#comments Tue, 19 Jul 2022 22:03:01 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=68210 Each of us has likely been advised not to judge a book by its cover, but my experience as a motorcyclist confirms that those of us who ride are routinely judged in that manner. It doesn’t help that media and pop culture frequently portray motorcycle riders as noisy bad-ass bikers or reckless crotch-rocket squids. But […]

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Perceptions Being a Good Samaritan Motorcyclist
Would you accept an offer of help from this man? Are you sure? (Photos by the author)

Each of us has likely been advised not to judge a book by its cover, but my experience as a motorcyclist confirms that those of us who ride are routinely judged in that manner. It doesn’t help that media and pop culture frequently portray motorcycle riders as noisy bad-ass bikers or reckless crotch-rocket squids.

But that’s not who I am. Friendly, slight of build, and respectful, I am the definition of non-threatening. Have a question? I’m all ears. Need a hand? I’ll help.

When I’m riding, I make a concerted effort to be an ambassador for everyone who rides. I stop for people crossing the road, let other vehicles pull out, and give extra space to those with dogs or horses. Off the bike, I hold open doors, especially for old folks and families with kids. I leave generous tips for waitstaff. I say hi to people in uniform. Honestly, it doesn’t take that much effort, and if non-riders get a good feeling about someone they meet who is riding a motorcycle, the next time they think about a motorcycle they’ll be able to associate it with something positive.

Check out more of Rider‘s features

Consider a couple of cases in point. Rides in my home region of Massachusetts often find me at Quabbin Reservoir. One particular day in March, the sky was cold blue crystal as I motored through the reservation. Water cascaded over the 400-foot-long stone spillway, indicating that the reservoir was at capacity. I continued up Quabbin Hill Road and, at the rotary, curved right toward the Summit Tower. From there I could enjoy splendid views of the valley and the mountains beyond. The unpaved parking area was a muddy mess, so I parked at the paved road’s edge behind the lone car there.

As I walked up toward the tower, a little girl, probably five years old, turned sharply at the sound of her name, looked back at me, then scampered to hide behind her parents. I offered a friendly hello, but my presence was clearly met with suspicion.

Though I gave them space, I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation: The girl was asking her mother for a quarter so she could look through the coin-operated binoculars. “Sorry,” her mom said, “I didn’t bring any quarters.” A hopeful look at her dad was also answered with “Sorry.” The girl’s expression switched from anticipation to disappointment.

Perceptions
Can a quarter change one person’s perception of another?

I had a quarter. I fished it out of my pocket and held it up for the mom’s approval. Looking a bit surprised, she nodded her consent, so I offered the coin to the girl. The youngster flashed a grin and thanked me.

“My daughter is a few years older than yours,” I told her parents. “She always liked looking through those binoculars.” They smiled. Twenty-five cents had changed me from someone best avoided to someone with a daughter.

Stopping to be a good Samaritan has long been my practice, although it has not always been met with appreciation. Several summers ago, while riding in Vermont’s remote Northeast Kingdom, I came upon a minivan parked on the shoulder. A tire was flat, so I pulled over to see how I could help. A young woman and her kids were in the van. I parked my bike ahead, removed my helmet and, keeping back what I considered a respectful distance, offered to help. The driver held up her hands: No! She didn’t know me or whether my intentions were honorable, so I couldn’t blame her.

My family was expecting me back home in a few hours, and I could have just left, but my fatherly instincts were telling me this young family was vulnerable. Another dad who rides once shared with me his story of simply staying on-site until proper help showed up, so even though this driver didn’t trust me to help, I decided to wait until help she did trust arrived.

Perceptions
Sometimes the good Samaritan arrives on a motorcycle.

“I’ve got a family and I’d hate to think of them stranded,” I told the driver, keeping back at that respectful distance. “I’ll just stay here by my bike until a cop arrives.” She was looking right at me but didn’t respond. I went back to my bike and reached into the tankbag for a snack.

It was sometime later when a Vermont state police cruiser, with its distinctive green livery, came into view. I waved my arms and the lights flashed on. The trooper pulled over next to me and got out immediately.

“What’s happening here?” he demanded.

“I saw the van had a flat and stopped to help,” I explained. “The lady said no, but it’s just her and the kids, so I decided to stay until help she trusts arrived. My family is expecting me home in Massachusetts, so I really need to go now.”

The trooper pointed an authoritative finger at me. “Wait here.” He walked to the van, spoke briefly with the driver, then came back. “Thank you for staying,” he said. “Ride safely.” The lady waved at me from the van. I waved back and she smiled. The motorcycle guy had changed from an untrustworthy character to that thoughtful dad who stayed until help arrived.

It rarely hurts to be friendly, especially when we’re out riding motorcycles. That way, people who do not ride might appreciate that those of us who do aren’t outlaws or hooligans by default. They just might realize that motorcyclists aren’t all that different from them. We just prefer to ride.

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https://ridermagazine.com/2022/07/19/perceptions-being-a-good-samaritan-motorcyclist/feed/ 5 a:0:{} 1 Perceptions of motorcyclists by non-motorcyclists are not always fair, but having a friendly attitude and being a good Samaritan can go a long way toward changing people's minds. Scott A. Williams
Longhaulpaul: Ep. 15 Rider Magazine Insider Podcast https://ridermagazine.com/2021/06/25/longhaulpaul-ep-15-of-the-rider-magazine-insider-podcast/ https://ridermagazine.com/2021/06/25/longhaulpaul-ep-15-of-the-rider-magazine-insider-podcast/#respond Fri, 25 Jun 2021 15:08:53 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=63660 Our guest for Episode 15 of the Rider Magazine Insider Podcast is Longhaulpaul (Paul Pelland), a long-distance motorcyclist who is Chasing the Cure: riding one million miles to raise money and awareness for multiple sclerosis (MS). Paul is a two-time Iron Butt Rally finisher (2001 and 2003). In 2005 he was diagnosed with MS, and […]

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Episode 15 Longhaulpaul - Paul Pelland Rider Magazine Insider Podcast
Longhaulpaul (Paul Pelland) and his Yamaha Ténéré 700 on the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah.

Our guest for Episode 15 of the Rider Magazine Insider Podcast is Longhaulpaul (Paul Pelland), a long-distance motorcyclist who is Chasing the Cure: riding one million miles to raise money and awareness for multiple sclerosis (MS). Paul is a two-time Iron Butt Rally finisher (2001 and 2003). In 2005 he was diagnosed with MS, and in 2012 he began his mission to document riding one million miles. In the past eight years he has ridden 450,000 miles, raised $200,000 for charity, set three world records, and shared his story at over 250 events across the U.S. In July he will embark on his Nut on a Bolt ride: riding coast to coast in 50 hours on a custom Yamaha Star Bolt chopper. You can meet Longhaulpaul at all nine Progressive IMS Outdoors events in 2021. You can follow, donate, or support him via his website.

You can listen to Episode 15 on Spotify, SoundCloud, and iTunes, or via the Rider Magazine Insider webpage. Please subscribe, leave us a 5-star rating, and tell your friends!

Check out previous episodes:

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https://ridermagazine.com/2021/06/25/longhaulpaul-ep-15-of-the-rider-magazine-insider-podcast/feed/ 0 a:0:{} 1 Rider Magazine Staff
‘The Bad Editor: Collected Columns and Untold Tales of Bad Behavior’ | A Biased Book Review https://ridermagazine.com/2021/05/09/the-bad-editor-collected-columns-and-untold-tales-of-bad-behavior-a-biased-book-review/ https://ridermagazine.com/2021/05/09/the-bad-editor-collected-columns-and-untold-tales-of-bad-behavior-a-biased-book-review/#respond Sun, 09 May 2021 15:00:36 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=63205 We all fight a battle between our opposites selves, between good and evil, between our inner demon and our inner angel. No one is all good or all bad. It’s the vast area in the middle where things get interesting. When it came to reviewing Peter Jones’ new book, “The Bad Editor: Collected Columns and […]

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Peter Jones The Bad Editor

We all fight a battle between our opposites selves, between good and evil, between our inner demon and our inner angel. No one is all good or all bad. It’s the vast area in the middle where things get interesting.

When it came to reviewing Peter Jones’ new book, “The Bad Editor: Collected Columns and Untold Tales of Bad Behavior,” I knew I would be biased. I know Peter. I like Peter. We’ve shared lots of laughs and drinks over the years at motorcycle press launches. When I took over as editor-in-chief of Rider, Peter reached out to me and offered to help. Now he writes a monthly column in Rider called “The Moto Life.”

So I asked Denis Rouse, Rider’s founding publisher and a guy who loves reading as much as he loves riding, to review Peter’s book. Denis doesn’t know Peter. Denis is unfiltered and likes controversy. He’s also been in the trenches of the motorcycle industry. Who better to review a book called “The Bad Editor”?

But after reading the review Denis sent me, I knew we needed to zoom out, to take a wider view.

We need interesting people in this world to save us from the khaki-slacks and white-Camry dullness that will swallow us whole if we don’t pry open its jaws and kick out its teeth. Interesting people are complicated. As Whitman would say, they contradict themselves, they are vast and contain multitudes.

Peter Jones The Bad Editor
Peter Jones with his 2006 Suzuki GSX-R1000 Bob-Job.

Peter is interesting. He has a degree in fine arts and used to work in a museum. He started road racing in his 30s. He had a engine throw a rod between his legs at 199 mph on the Bonneville Salt Flats, just missing his chance to join the 200 MPH Club (and luckily escaping without grievous bodily harm). But he later joined the club, clocking 202.247 mph from a standing start on a naturally aspirated production motorcycle at Maxton AFB. Peter has written for every major motorcycle magazine and worked for Pirelli, Öhlins, Kymco and Nitron. He’s written academic papers on philosophy and an as-yet-unpublished book about risk. He’s working on a graphic novel. He’s restoring a 1962 Benelli Sprite 200. Peter also an eclectic taste in shoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear the same pair twice.

You get the idea.

Peter’s new book has a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde quality to it. The first 150 pages are devoted to 30 columns he wrote between 1996 and 2002 for Sport Rider, Motorcyclist, American Roadracing and Motorcycle Street & Strip. Many of the columns are about road racing — the mindset of racers, crashing, backmarkers, G-forces and so on.

As Denis puts it: The chapters on road racing are excellent, in particular the one in which our man describes riders of unworldly skill who walk a track before a race and engrave the geometry in their minds to achieve a subconscious sense, some say even a spiritual sense, to negotiate the course at terrifying speeds and lean angles and braking forces that bend the science of physics. Then there’s this painful chapter on expiating guilt that deals with the time Jones crashed his bike in a road race, causing the rider just behind him to do a career-ending crash, that rider being Stewart Goddard, who despite being paralyzed from the chest down as a result of an early moped accident, was doing well enough on the circuits to be an icon at the time. I’m human. I know guilt. How does Jones handle it? I remember how Graham Greene defined its opposite, innocence, as “a blind leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.”

There are also columns about lane-splitting in Los Angeles traffic, being mesmerized by a Supercross race in Las Vegas (a city he fears and loathes), “The Art of the Motorcycle” exhibit at the Guggenheim, owning a clapped-out CB350 and why you should never try to ride a motorcycle with 15 pounds’ worth of brake rotors in a bag slung over your arm, all of which are well-written, thoughtful and entertaining.

Dr. Jekyll is the good guy, the responsible one. He’s not the interesting part of the story. It’s Mr. Hyde’s 19 “Untold Tales of Bad Behavior” that people really want to read.

According to Denis: Jones stirred memories of my own from years as Rider’s publisher of which I’m not particularly proud. Like the time we drove a rental car on the beach in and out of the salt of the surf wash during Daytona Speed Week. Like when I was drinking Lone Stars with tequila shooters at the bar in Gilley’s during the Houston Motorcycle Show and became convinced by colleagues and Harley execs that I could ride the mechanical bull at gringo level without a serious get-off. And the time we were seated at an entertainment club featuring female impersonators, and one of the entertainers came to our table and, well, I won’t go on here, it’s Jones’ book not mine, but there’s related dubiousness in it that’s plenty familiar to me.

What enthusiasts often want to know is, “What really happens at motorcycle press launches?” They don’t care about the 48 hours of travel to spend 36 hours on the ground in Spain to ride a motorcycle for 100 miles. They aren’t interested in how many photo passes you had to do to get the shot, or that you had to ride a motorcycle with DOT tires on a track in the rain. They want the trench coat opened and the naked truth revealed.

Because Peter has a solid moral core, is not out to settle scores and doesn’t name names, his tales of bad behavior feel restrained. The tales lack the prurience we all crave. Peter is self-effacing, humorously pointing out his own foibles and errors in judgment, but the veil of anonymity that protects the not-so innocent left me hungry for more details, for the who, what, when, where and why of what transpired.

Where Peter is more open, though again without pointing fingers at a particular person or brand, is about the delicate balance motojournalists maintain to serve different masters: editors, publishers, readers, advertisers, manufacturers and themselves.

Back to Denis: What rings especially true in the book, and it’s a subject Jones deals with eloquently on several levels as an insider, is the pressure advertisers put to bear on the shoulders of a motorcycle journalist to retain integrity (read: honesty) in the test reporting of machines and related accessories and riding equipment. Advertising is important. The ship goes down without it. But Jones knows it sinks faster when readers no longer trust it.

Motorcycle magazines (and websites) are enthusiast publications. There is a symbiotic relationship between all parties involved, yet the rules of that relationship are not written down or set in stone. As Peter told me in our recent podcast interview, when journalists are reviewing the advertisers’ products, there’s an inherent conflict of interest. Readers want motojournalists to be honest, but only when that honesty aligns with their own biases. When a reader’s favorite motorcycle doesn’t win a comparison test, the reader will sometimes accuse the editors of the magazine of being “in the pocket” of the winning manufacturer, rather than accepting the conclusion that the motorcycle in their garage isn’t the best/fastest/coolest.

As I know from personal experience, no staff editor at a motorcycle magazine gets rich doing their job. It’s a labor of love. Sure, free helmets are involved, but try paying rent or buying groceries with a used helmet and let me know how it turns out for you.

Peter isn’t a bad guy, not in a moral sense, but he has found himself in bad situations.

Denis: The ironic capper comes in the last chapter of the book in which Jones leads several police officers in a life-threatening chase on the Blue Ridge Parkway. He was speeding way over the posted 45, in a national park no less, when he caught the pursuant attention of the law. The deal ends at a dead end, and Jones is promptly arrested, ordered to lie prone on the ground with his hands cuffed behind him, with an officer’s knee planted on his back. Off he goes to the Graybar Hotel. End of book. 

Was a felony conviction added to his resume? He says no but more detail to come in Volume II of “The Bad Editor.”

I’m just jonesing for it.

We need people like Peter Jones in the motorcycle industry. We don’t pay him enough to write his monthly column. So buy his book. Buy two and send one to a friend.

“The Bad Editor: Collected Columns and Untold Tales of Bad Behavior” is 250 pages, and is available in paperback for $18.55 or as a Kindle e-book for $7.99 on Amazon. To read sample chapters and find out more about Peter Jones, visit TheBadEditor.com.

The post ‘The Bad Editor: Collected Columns and Untold Tales of Bad Behavior’ | A Biased Book Review first appeared on Rider Magazine.]]>
https://ridermagazine.com/2021/05/09/the-bad-editor-collected-columns-and-untold-tales-of-bad-behavior-a-biased-book-review/feed/ 0 a:0:{} 1 Greg Drevenstedt and Denis M. Rouse
Exhaust Note: Werner Wachter (1943-2021) https://ridermagazine.com/2021/03/16/exhaust-note-werner-wachter/ https://ridermagazine.com/2021/03/16/exhaust-note-werner-wachter/#respond Tue, 16 Mar 2021 17:08:33 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=62773 It’s early in the 1980s. Rider magazine is beginning to show promise as a motorcycle monthly devoted to the touring market. I’m working a motorcycle show in Cincinnati. Here comes this ebullient Austrian guy with an infectious smile who says, “Hi, I’m Werner Wachter, Edelweiss Bike Travel, and I’d like to invite you to go […]

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Werner Wachter
Warner Wachter, October 4, 1943 – January 16, 2021. Photos courtesy of Edelweiss Bike Travel.

It’s early in the 1980s. Rider magazine is beginning to show promise as a motorcycle monthly devoted to the touring market. I’m working a motorcycle show in Cincinnati. Here comes this ebullient Austrian guy with an infectious smile who says, “Hi, I’m Werner Wachter, Edelweiss Bike Travel, and I’d like to invite you to go on a riding adventure with us for a story in your magazine.” My mama didn’t raise any dummies. So shortly thereafter I’m with Werner and an impassioned platoon of Moto Guzzi riders from the States touring the Alps in Italy and France during one of the coldest, snowiest, wettest springs on record and loving every second of it. The record of my initial joyous Edelweiss scoot was published in the September 1983 issue of Rider under the headline “Der Flug der Ganse,” subtitled in English, “The Flight of the Geese,” together with photos of wintry riding conditions that still give me, uh, goosebumps under my thermals.

Werner Wachter
Werner was a fabulous guy who brought joy and mirth everywhere he went. Through hard work and passion, he built Edelweiss Bike Travel into the world’s largest motorcycle tour company. In 2010, Werner and an intrepid group of riders embarked on a trip around the world.

There was a tie that bound Werner and me from the start. We both shared the background of beginning our professional careers working for our fathers, mine in RV magazine publishing, and his in medical electronics. There couldn’t be two more disparate fields of endeavor, but boyhood cases of motorcycle fever are usually incurable and so we both took the old advice on the T-shirt: Ride to Live, Live to Ride. The frames of wonderful memories that ensued two-wheeling around the world with the inimitably fun-loving Werner through many years are definitive, including that warm evening in Novgorod, Russia, when we danced with a couple of local girls to Johnny Mathis crooning “Chances Are” on the player, and when we strolled outside, chances went south when a horde of mosquitoes had us slap dancing and laughing uproariously in our shorts. And that shoreside dinner on the Sea of Galilee in Israel, when I ordered catsup to douse on my St. Peter’s Fish, Werner with mock horror grabbed the bottle and threw it thirty yards into the storied lake. And poignant times, too, like when we were hosted for lunch in China by a local motorcycle club, guys with small machines and big hearts, and we realized for the umpteenth time during our international forays that, borders and politics aside, people are people, and that all riders seem to be in the best sense a brotherhood.

Godspeed, Werner. 

Werner Wachter
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Riding 740 Miles in 2 Days on a 34-Year-Old 250 https://ridermagazine.com/2021/02/19/riding-740-miles-in-2-days-on-a-34-year-old-250/ https://ridermagazine.com/2021/02/19/riding-740-miles-in-2-days-on-a-34-year-old-250/#comments Sat, 20 Feb 2021 02:06:53 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=62037 “What?! You’re crazy, son. I can’t believe it,” said my dad after he heard my story. He should know. He’s owned and customized 1,000cc Kawasaki speed machines forever. I’ve seen them in the garage on stands, rear wheels floating in repose like Achilles’ wings waiting to hit redline after redline as they run up through […]

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Steven Sysum Suzuki GS250
The author’s trusty ’81 Suzuki GS250 with route map taped to gas tank.

“What?! You’re crazy, son. I can’t believe it,” said my dad after he heard my story.

He should know. He’s owned and customized 1,000cc Kawasaki speed machines forever. I’ve seen them in the garage on stands, rear wheels floating in repose like Achilles’ wings waiting to hit redline after redline as they run up through the gears.

But, I didn’t ride one of his bikes from Santa Barbara to Mammoth Lakes, California, for a friend’s weekend wedding in 2015. I didn’t have the experience. Instead, I took the only motorcycle I had — a recently acquired 1981 Suzuki GS250 with low miles and all original parts.

A bike-savvy friend saw an ad for it and said, “Buy it. For $500 it’s a deal.” And, it was!

A local shop gave it a once-over and I told them, “I’m going to Mammoth, please make sure it’s safe.” With an oil change and fuel system flush they gave their blessing. They didn’t seem concerned about the old tires, chain and brakes.

With a duffel bag and a backpack I left Santa Barbara Friday at noon in late August. Door to door this trip is 370 miles, around seven hours with stops. My route started south on Highway 1/U.S. 101 along the Pacific coast until I turned inland at Ventura. Riding through the dense orange groves in the Santa Clara River valley on Highway 126 filled me with ecstasy. Fruity smells wafted through my vented helmet. My eyes kept drifting to large eucalyptus, creekside sycamores and brown wrinkled hills.

Fellow riders along U.S. Highway 395.

Thankfully I remembered the advice from my motorcycle safety training course: “You go where your eyes go.” To avoid hitting those lovely trees I pulled my eyes back to the highway. I was full of optimism until I penetrated the inland heat as connecting to I-5 south at Magic Mountain.

An hour into my ride I’m parched, and I pull off at a strip mall to hydrate. Sitting and sweating under the oppressive sun, I began questioning my choice to travel alone through the California desert on this small motorcycle during a severe heat wave. It was 105 degrees. So much for paradise.

I rationalized my decision, telling myself “this is a rare opportunity” and “I promised my friend I’d go.” So, I made a plan. Fill my bike up with gas and myself up with water every 60 miles. Don’t exceed 65mph. I’ll get there when I get there.

Steven Sysum Suzuki GS250
Reaching Inyo County on Highway 395 in 110-degree desert heat.

There I was, cruising along Highway 14 through the Antelope Valley, clenching with every crack and pothole the Suzuki bounced over. Then I felt it. My hands tingling from the high revs buzzing through the handlebars. Should I slow down, possibly making myself a hazard to drivers? Or should I tough it out for the next 220 miles? I decide to endure the discomfort to make time.

After the desert crossroads town of Mojave, I began to wonder how far apart the gas stations were. When I connected to Highway 395 and rode north along the Eastern Sierra Scenic Byway, I fought fears of disaster with appreciation for the scenery. From my seat in the open air I took in new details not seen from a car. Desert sage, sandy soil and fluttering birds are all more vivid, close enough that I could almost touch them. Here I finally felt like I belonged on my motorcycle. I was making good progress.

Until the climb.

Steven Sysum Sierra Nevada
Small helmet, big mountains, blue sky.

Bishop, a burg within the Owens Valley, sits at 4,100 feet above sea level. Mammoth Lakes, where I was headed, is at nearly 8,000 feet. Me and my little 250 needed to climb nearly 4,000 feet in a little over 40 miles. And I was behind schedule and the sun had dropped behind the jagged Sierra peaks. Though the incline was moderate, it was steady and put the Suzuki to the test. As I went up, the speedometer needle went down. The engine sounded fine. But 200 pounds on top of a 348-pound bike with 36 horsepower meant that 40 mph was the best I could hope for.

Remember that scene in “Dumb and Dumber” when Lloyd and Harry, riding two-up on a mini bike, finally made the climb to Aspen with a long line of cars trailing behind them? Yep, that was me, minus the frozen snot.

Steven Sysum Owens Lake
Owens Lake at sunset.

My feet finally touched down in Mammoth around 9:30pm, the hot engine crackling in the cool mountain air. My hands felt like tuning forks, ringing out their own frequency after nine hours of tingle. My back was sore from the backpack. Hell, everything was sore. And my stomach growled in protest because all I had eaten were protein bars.

But, all of these perturbations ceased once I entered the lit banquet room where my friends and their loved ones reveled in excitement for the wedding tomorrow. My friend was ecstatic to see me! We sipped beer and wine by fireside. Plates of food were everywhere. Laughter and stories from filled the night air.

I made it. I actually made it.

Steven Sysum
The author before the wedding atop Mammoth Mountain, with the route he climbed behind him.

Saturday came and the outdoor wedding in the mountains was majestic. I took film photos. I met beautiful people, ate great food and danced wildly into the night. It was perfect, and I wished the day would never end. Laying in my bed that night, however, the elation was counterbalanced with one foreboding thought: I must make the same trip home TOMORROW.

Sunday morning I said my goodbyes after breakfast. Before taking off I remembered to check the Suzuki’s oil level. Dry. Good thing I checked. With hands still tingling from Friday I topped off oil and gas and headed out. Despite the day-after-the-day-after back soreness and numb hands I was thankful to be alone with my thoughts. Same plan, same route. Same heat wave.

The heat consumed me. In the open air I could detect subtle temperature changes. It was hot. How hot? Nearing Mojave I sensed the temperature drop maybe five degrees. While filling up I checked the temperature: 108. But it’s a dry heat, they say. It’s a hot heat, I say. And, it stayed that way, all the way to the seaside surf town of Ventura.

I felt the ocean’s lovely coolness and moisture. The heat was gone and I was fully enveloped within the low-70s coastal comfort. North onto Highway 1/U.S. 101 and I’d be home in another 30 minutes. I made much better time and arrived at 7 p.m., just in time to watch the slowly setting sun. I took my exit and stopped at the intersection.

Steven Sysum route map
The author’s 369-mile route from Santa Barbara to Mammoth Lakes, California.

The immensity of what I just accomplished washed over me. I rode alone 740 miles through triple-digit heat in 2 days on a 34-year old 250cc cruiser with all original parts. And no disaster befell me! Not only did the bike survive, but I survived too. Bike and body, pushed to their limits. How many cc’s am I made of? So many thoughts swirled in my head as I entered my driveway. The one that brought me the most delight was, “I can’t wait to tell my dad what I just did!”

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https://ridermagazine.com/2021/02/19/riding-740-miles-in-2-days-on-a-34-year-old-250/feed/ 35 Steven Sysum To attend a friend’s wedding, new rider Steven Sysum hit the road on his 1981 Suzuki GS250, riding 740 miles round-trip, from the cool coast into the frying-pan desert and more than a mile up into the mountains. Check out this story about the little bike that could and the guy behind the bars! 1 a:0:{}
Inspiration from an Old Gent Driving a Buick https://ridermagazine.com/2021/02/16/inspiration-from-an-old-gent-driving-a-buick/ https://ridermagazine.com/2021/02/16/inspiration-from-an-old-gent-driving-a-buick/#comments Tue, 16 Feb 2021 20:44:43 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=61904 In western Connecticut, State Route 20 curves around the northern end of Barkhamsted Reservoir and down to Riverton. Traffic is scant, the scenery sublime and the road full of sweeps and undulations. One beautiful fall day, I pointed my BMW that way. After making the River Road loop through Peoples State Forest, I reversed course […]

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Your humble scribe endeavors always to be an ambassador for the motorcycling community. When someone else sends good vibes to me on two wheels, it feels great. Story and photo by Scott A. Williams.

In western Connecticut, State Route 20 curves around the northern end of Barkhamsted Reservoir and down to Riverton. Traffic is scant, the scenery sublime and the road full of sweeps and undulations. One beautiful fall day, I pointed my BMW that way. After making the River Road loop through Peoples State Forest, I reversed course toward home. At the bridge by the old Hitchcock Chair building, a flagman signaled “STOP.” Ahead was a well-preserved Buick of late ’90s vintage, with two passengers of significantly older vintage up front. When the flagman waved us through, the Buick turned left … where I was headed. 

Curves on this road limit the view ahead and opportunities to pass safely are few. To my delight, the Buick’s right blinker flashed and the driver waved me around. I sped by and returned the wave, back on that delicious winding road for some Buick-free motoring. 

Near the top of the reservoir, I pulled into a lay-by for a break. Later, as I prepared to carry on, that same Buick pulled in. The old-timer got out and opened the door for his lady friend. I said hello and thanked him for letting me pass back there. He looked me in the eye and grinned. “It’s too nice a day and too nice a road for a young guy like you on a nice bike like that to be stuck behind a Buick!” He was right, of course, and we shared a knowing laugh. Continuing home, I realized the old gent and I had the same plan: enjoy a beautiful day. 

Recently, I stopped at the same lay-by overlooking Barkhamsted Reservoir where I met that old gent driving a Buick.

Often, a great day of riding is made better by folks who let those motorcycles by to enjoy the winding road. This happened frequently on a recent visit to New Hampshire’s White Mountains region. It also happened in the Wilds of northern Pennsylvania, where winding back roads and dense forests conspire to limit sight distances. More often than not, slow-moving drivers waved us around. 

In Massachusetts, a box truck ahead on the meandering Mohawk Trail pulled into a scenic view parking area. I rode on by and the truck pulled right back onto the road. I understood why and waved my thanks. The driver flashed high beams. Further on, a car pulled over at the start of the Mount Greylock Scenic Byway, right where the road begins miles of twists and switchbacks to the summit. The driver and I exchanged waves. In Vermont, I experienced similar courtesy along a 200-mile route made up almost entirely of roads no one saw the need to pave.

Recently, I was riding the same stretch of Connecticut 20 where I met that old gent in the Buick. To you, kind sir, and to the other courteous drivers out there, this motorcyclist waves his thanks. 

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Safe Post-Ride Entertainment in the Time of Covid https://ridermagazine.com/2020/12/30/safe-post-ride-entertainment-in-the-time-of-covid/ https://ridermagazine.com/2020/12/30/safe-post-ride-entertainment-in-the-time-of-covid/#respond Wed, 30 Dec 2020 19:17:04 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=60733 Over the years, I have penned many Rider articles about entertainment opportunities that can enhance great rides. I’ve written about riding to a Pearl Jam concert in Montana. I have traced my way on the tarmac and in print from watching “Hamlet” in Oregon to “Much Ado” in Utah. I love mixing concerts and theater […]

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Southern Arizona motorcycle road
Wide open spaces and winding roads highlight southern Arizona.

Over the years, I have penned many Rider articles about entertainment opportunities that can enhance great rides. I’ve written about riding to a Pearl Jam concert in Montana. I have traced my way on the tarmac and in print from watching “Hamlet” in Oregon to “Much Ado” in Utah. I love mixing concerts and theater with motorcycle travel.

While riding is clearly a great social-distancing activity, you may think that the post-ride entertainment aspect has been nullified by Covid. To some extent, that is certainly true. However, responsible and creative venues and organizers are finding ways to stage safe theatrical and musical events.

Southern Arizona wine country
Southern Arizona’s wine country is a mix of grasslands and grape vines.

On a recent tour through southern Arizona’s mine and wine region, I found two such events at the end of lengthy days in the saddle. Both were entertaining and, most importantly, I left each feeling public safety was prioritized and well-planned.

Tucson Blues

After carving through the historic mine country of south central Arizona, I spent a night at the historic Hotel Congress in downtown Tucson. It so happened that there was a Blues and BBQ event being staged at the hotel. The outdoor concert filled my post-ride afternoon and evening with a nice diversion.

Hotel Congress Tucson Arizona
Blues, BBQ, and public safety at the Hotel Congress in Tucson.

Masks and social distancing were mandated, and the happy audience willingly complied. Interestingly, I was not the only motorcyclist attending. A couple of riders rolled up on Indians, pulled off leather jackets, and immediately pulled on masks.

The musicians were great, the BBQ was delectable, and the social consciousness was refreshing. The Hotel Congress has an intimate indoor concert room that will surely be vacant until the virus is held in check, but their outdoor courtyard venue will continue to allow for safe, small gatherings.

I had a chat with the hotel’s general manager, Todd Hanley, about his concerns in re-opening the hotel and staging limited entertainment opportunities. It was clear that he was carefully balancing public safety with some return to normalcy for the business. He had a meeting planned that afternoon with city officials on how to continue that balance.

Phoenix Music Theater

The second day of my adventure, I traced the southern Arizona wine region and border towns. After five hours in the saddle, I ended my day in central Phoenix. I again found something to get me out of the hotel room.

Phoenix Theater Company
The Phoenix Theatre Company put on a great show for a socially distanced audience.

The Phoenix Theatre Company has found ways to stage a limited-attendance season. The production I attended was “Unwrapped: An Original Christmas Revue.” The email confirmation that I received after purchasing my ticket outlined the Covid precautions that would be implemented. There would be no tolerance of non-adherence.

The PTC has moved all productions outdoors to an adjacent church. The setting is a fantastic palm-tree-accented, open-air courtyard. Again, masks were required at all times, even when seated. Pairs of comfortable lawn chairs were widely spaced throughout the courtyard. Programs were viewed via Q-codes on the armrests, and contactless food ordering was accessed the same way.

The production was supremely entertaining, the sound system was top-notch, and the musicians were talented. Again, I left the show feeling totally comfortable with the safety and audience support of the effort.

There is a full season of entertainment scheduled at the venue, and I will certainly be back for the March production of “Ring of Fire,” as I am a big Johnny Cash fan.

Clearly, there are those who will argue that full isolation is the only responsible approach in this pandemic. However, my recent journey has reinforced for me that responsible and carefully-orchestrated events are both entertaining and safe. There are still options for motorcyclists who crave post-ride entertainment.

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A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging in the Time of Covid-19 https://ridermagazine.com/2020/09/11/a-safe-place-to-rest-your-head-lodging-in-the-time-of-covid-19/ https://ridermagazine.com/2020/09/11/a-safe-place-to-rest-your-head-lodging-in-the-time-of-covid-19/#comments Fri, 11 Sep 2020 17:44:51 +0000 https://ridermagazine.com/?p=59378 In these strange times, close human contact is a risky proposition. Covid-19 restrictions have rendered many hobbies and activities off-limits. However, motorcycling is an experience that is, and has always been, all about social distancing. On the open road, conflicts, concerns, and global viruses are marginalized and rendered innocuous. The problem is that we must […]

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A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

In these strange times, close human contact is a risky proposition. Covid-19 restrictions have rendered many hobbies and activities off-limits. However, motorcycling is an experience that is, and has always been, all about social distancing.

On the open road, conflicts, concerns, and global viruses are marginalized and rendered innocuous. The problem is that we must reenter the confines of society at the temporary intermission of a ride. Unless camping or back at home, that means a stay in a hotel.

As a travel writer, even in the time of Covid, I am still doing some distance riding. Here is a first-hand look at what several types of lodging are doing to assuage customer concerns and minimize risk.

The Boutique Mom and Pop

A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

The historic Park Hotel in Clarkdale, Arizona, is perfectly situated between the various mountain ranges of north-central Arizona. Winding roads head off in several directions from the quaint town, making this area a popular motorcycling destination. In fact, one of the best motorcycle roads in Arizona, Highway 89A over Mingus Mountain, is framed in the hotel’s second-story picture windows.

Owners Craig and Becky Backus superbly and painstakingly remodeled the Park Hotel’s seven rooms. Unfortunately, their passion project was completed with the coronavirus in full swing. It was in this time of trepidation and mandated restriction that I stayed at the Park Hotel. At that time, the owners were only renting out every other room.

“My husband Craig and I had a vision of creating a boutique hotel experience with classy chic rooms, bringing an amazing historic building back to life again,” Becky said. “With the impact of Covid, we decided to have a slow, safe opening in May, only allowing 50% occupancy to follow social distancing protocols. We also take every measure to protect our guests with sanitized rooms and lobby area, and by wiping down door handles and hand railing several times daily with commercial grade disinfectants.”

The Park Hotel will also feature a microbrewery when Covid bar restrictions are loosened.

clarkdaleparkhotel.com

The Upscale Resort

A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

On a trip through southern Colorado, I had the opportunity to stay at The Springs Resort and Spa in Pagosa Springs. As I descended the winding road off Wolf Creek pass toward Pagosa Springs, I was anticipating soaking in the resort’s cascading, natural hot springs pools. However, I was understandably concerned about close contact with strangers.

Upon my arrival, the resort’s well-defined protocols went a long way in calming those concerns. Shane Lucero, the property’s Director of Sales and Marketing, told me, “The health and safety of our community, staff, and guests remains the top priority for us here at The Springs Resort.”

A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

When asked about indoor cleansing measures, Lucero said that they have employed “the highest level of disinfectant cleaning across the property, using earth-friendly, peroxide-based cleaners and UV light sterilization in our guest rooms.” In fact, after the stunning view, one of the first things I noticed in my suite at the resort was the UV sterilization box conveniently located on the desk. Additionally, masks were required upon entering any common area indoor space at the resort.

So what about the resort’s main draw – those steaming hot springs pools? “In our outdoor hot spring pool area, we have posted capacity limits at each pool and ask that guests soak in travel or family groups, and to social distance,” said Lucero. “We want everyone, guests and staff included, to be and feel safe and comfortable during their stay with us as they naturally boost their immune systems with the gifts that nature has provided.”

pagosahotsprings.com

The Large Chain

A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

Over the last several decades of traveling, I have become a bit of a creature of habit when I select a chain hotel. Hilton has a reputation for quality that makes me comfortable. That is especially true now.

In this time of Covid, I have made stays at two different Hiltons – one in Durango, Colorado, and the other on Coronado Island, California. In both cases, check-in was handled by a masked desk attendant who was situated behind a plexiglass barrier. There were well-defined social distancing markers on the floors and frequent sanitizing stations in areas of required contact.

The Hilton chain has implemented a comforting visual cue upon arriving at the individual room door. That is a blue seal indicating the room’s completed sanitation. On both stays, upon breaking that seal, I found the remote control in a sealed bag and the rooms visually and aromatically clean.

Interestingly, Hilton has teamed with the Mayo Clinic to define and refine its cleanliness and sanitation efforts. “We are proud to bring Mayo Clinic’s expertise and knowledge to the Covid-19 response,” said Stacey Rizza, M.D., a Mayo Clinic infectious disease specialist. She continued that the Mayo Clinic is “working with Hilton staff and advising them on the program protocol and training.”

Other quality hotel chains are certainly taking their own sanitation measures. It is wise to check ahead of your stay.

hilton.com

Personal Precautions

A Safe Place to Rest Your Head: Lodging In The Time of Covid-19

Obviously, it is reassuring that hotels are taking sanitation and guest safety seriously. However, there is no substitute for personal responsibility. I ride with a mask and hand sanitizer in the top of my most accessible saddlebag and use them at any fuel, food or rest stop. I also carry a can of Lysol spray sanitizer and coat the door handles, bathroom fixtures and high-contact surfaces in any hotel room – even those as seemingly clean as those outlined above.

In the end, a hotel stay cannot be as guaranteed virus-free as the open road, but with efforts on the part of both the customer and the facility, unnecessary risk can be minimized.

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https://ridermagazine.com/2020/09/11/a-safe-place-to-rest-your-head-lodging-in-the-time-of-covid-19/feed/ 11 Tim Kessel In these strange times, close human contact is a risky proposition. Covid-19 restrictions have rendered many hobbies and activities off-limits. However, motorcycling is an experience that is and has always been, all about social distancing. Tim Kessel explores some hotel options for motorcyclists.